Our pastor at church said we all need to share our personal rescue stories, even the ordinary. I have a completely ordinary story. He says ordinary stories are helpful to ordinary people. Deep breath. Here goes…

I grew up in a mostly non religious home. Both of my parents grew up in religious homes, so it’s not like we didn’t believe at all or never talked about God. Mainly God and heaven were talked about when someone died and we kids had questions. It was this easy, comforting answer to give to kids. Good people go to heaven, bad people go to Hell. We never went to church, except maybe on rare occasions or the odd Christmas service here or there. There was no reading of Scripture or much in the way of conversations about God or Jesus.

I had a very basic understanding of the important people in the Bible. I knew God was God and that Jesus was His Son. I knew about Adam and Eve and how they messed up everything for all of humanity, which I thought was unfair. I knew about Moses from watching the old movie that was on cable every year around Easter, I think it was called, The 10 Commandments. And this was my understanding too about how to be “good” or “bad”.Good people didn’t kill people or steal, or lie.

I was an oldest child, so your typical rule follower. I had no idea then, but my basic understanding of Christianity was the Old Testament or law way of thinking. I had to earn my way to heaven by following the rules.

When we start to grow up, the question of identity comes to the forefront of everyone’s mind. What is my identity? It may not be a question we’re consciously asking ourselves, but it’s there nonetheless in trying to find out where we fit in to the world. I happened to start running cross country in 9th grade at age 14, which turned out to be a crucial time for me. That’s where I found my identity as a runner. Specifically as a fast runner.

This summer I read Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone’s book, Far Beyond Gold: Running From Fear to Faith, on the recommendation of one of my best friends (who I met that freshman year running cross country). There was so so much in her personal story I could relate to. Even though she is a decorated, medal winning Olympian and I was just a winner of local races, I shared so many of the same fears she did. My 11 year old daughter read her book too, and finished it and read it again.

Running is a great hobby, but it makes a very terrible god. What I mean by that is that running is a very good thing. That’s partly what I mean when I say that my story is ordinary. I wasn’t caught up in addiction or embezzling or anything like that. Those stories are powerful, as they really showcase the power of God in transforming individuals completely.

For many of us ordinary people our idols aren’t in the extreme. We’re not rescued from the streets. Yet, we are saved nonetheless.

An idol is anything (that could be a very good thing) that you make it god in your life. It’s when you say, “once I have that, then I’ll be…complete, happy, valuable”, pick your adjective.

I found my identity in running and even more so in the success that came with it. When I performed well, I felt good about myself and I was happy. If I performed poorly, well, you can imagine I was really hard on myself. Who was I of value if I wasn’t a fast runner??

As time went on and my running performance proved a pretty unreliable idol to stack my whole identity on, I started branching into other areas. I tried to find my value in relationships, in my work ethic, in success in general.

As it always was with running, when my life looked good on the outside, I felt good on the inside. But what about when the deck of cards starts falling down? Broken relationships, not getting that promotion, indicators of failure left me confused. Life was full of winners and losers to me, and if I wasn’t a winner, I couldn’t be a loser!

As a result of my trying to always fix everything, I stayed in toxic relationships way too long, sacrificed my own happiness and health to at least appear successful, and used my running as a crutch to get me through when times were tough.

By my late 20’s, on the outside, I was a high functioning adult with a career and a husband and I even could add winning a marathon to my identity. It seemed only natural to have a baby, which plenty of ordinary people do. I could certainly do it.

Then motherhood happened, and if nothing in life will humble you, motherhood will.

Nothing about motherhood was easy for me. And of course, in my comparison game I played in my head, there were winners and losers and I couldn’t deny that I was a loser in this area. My oldest child had colic and screamed most hours of the day. I tried everything to help her and nothing seemed to work, or, work consistently. We went to the doctor, I tried pacifiers and rocking swings and driving her in the car. Eventually, the only thing that I could do was put her in a wrap, and pace around the house until she cried herself to sleep. Then, once she was asleep, my aching body would try to stop moving, to sit down and no sooner would I stop moving and she’d be up and crying again.

My social media feed was full of other moms with sleeping little babies, in their car seat or stroller. They actually took their babies places. I was confined to the house and it was wearing on me. One day, I did attempt to take her to Hobby Lobby for my own sanity and I remember we got there and she was screaming so I’m walking around holding her and people were staring and an employee came up to us to see if we needed help. My daughter had a good set of lungs, which seems to have come in handy now that she’s running too. I remember seeing another woman I knew from work in the store who was also on maternity leave with her peaceful baby in the store and I hid and left.

I felt so ashamed. I was failing at something that was supposed to come naturally to me as a woman.

Thankfully though, God had been there my whole life, trying to get me to find Him. When I look back, it’s many of the people of faith that were a part of my life that ultimately led me to finally answer His call. They wore their faith like a piece of them that they never took off. And when life was hard, they still clung to it. I wanted some of what they had.

I remember it was near Easter that I started reading the Easter story. I had read through some of the Bible in my college years and had felt I fully got the message but after that I stopped pursuing it. Reading about Jesus, and about the Pharisees, I could see myself…as a Pharisee!

The Pharisees were the religious leaders at the time. They were the rule followers. They prided themselves on being the best of the best. They looked down their noses at others. That had been me!

They killed Jesus because He threatened their god of pride.

I had lived much of my life self focused on success and I looked down at those who struggled. I justified my own shortcomings while harshly criticizing others. This was ultimately because my identity, my whole sense of being, was tied to the outward appearance of success.

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, pretenders (hypocrites)! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self indulgence.”

-Matthew 23:25

After Easter, I was hungry for more, so I kept reading Scripture. And I haven’t stopped since. We started going to church as a family and my kids are learning the gospel. They may not fully understand what it all means until they are older, but they know the basics of it, even my 5 year old. We read Scripture together nightly and we pray. That’s not me trying to say, “look how much I’m doing.” It’s rather an indication of how much my life has changed since giving it over to Christ. But I’ve gotten ahead of myself.

For me, I understand now that it wasn’t all Adam and Eve’s fault but that I’m personally responsible for my own sinful nature. I chose to serve the god of pride and success and self interest.

Jesus paid the price of my sin. He died because of me. Jesus, who never sinned and lived the perfect life took on my punishment. He did this willingly and as a free gift of grace to me. I didn’t have to do anything other than accept it. Once I accepted the sacrifice of Jesus into my heart, my old ways died, and I became a new person. Now, this doesn’t mean I never sin. It would be false to think that Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross only wiped my slate clean and then I had to perfectly follow the rules again for the rest of my life.

No, my old ways of thinking had to die. I have accepted myself with a new identity. I am a sinner. This means I’m still a sinner. It doesn’t mean I have a free pass to just live the way I want, it means I have a changed heart. One that’s soft. One that listens to the Holy Spirit when it convicts me of my sin.

And my works grow from that changed heart. The good I do now is not in my own self interest, and it’s done when no one is watching. But people should be able to see it. This is the fruit of the Spirit. This is what I saw in the other Christian’s that were influential to me. They weren’t perfect. They still made mistakes. But when they did, they corrected them. They didn’t cover them up. They didn’t blame others. They were trustworthy.

I’m not perfect. Far from it. The grace I’ve been given I did not earn and I don’t deserve. I still sin. But I feel convicted of it now instead of making excuses. I repent and I try to live like those Christians I so admire. I am free from feeling like I always need to succeed in order to feel valued. I’m deeply loved, and the parts of me that fail have been accounted for by Jesus.

Running? I still love it and it’s a part of my identity but it’s not my identity. Running is a gift I am able to enjoy. Should I ever not be able to run, I know I’ll be ok. Motherhood? I love it. It truly is the hardest work I’ve ever done and I make mistakes all the time but I give myself grace because God is gracious. My kids are sinners and we all give each other grace and forgiveness, though sometimes we don’t always get this right off the bat.

If you are wanting to know more about Christ or the gospel, please reach out to me. I’d love to have a no pressure, non judgment discussion with you. We’ve found a church I love that we call home, and I would love to have you attend with us sometime if you want to. If you don’t feel comfortable talking to me or someone, but are still curious, I would suggest you start by reading God’s word, or Scripture. If that’s too overwhelming for you, like it was for me, start by reading the Easter story. I read it online and then started reading in the New Testament after that. I read online in the King James Bible online. I read every day. I don’t read for hours on end and I have never read the whole Bible in a year, it takes me two or three years to get through the entire Bible but I’ve now read it about 3 times. I still am learning how to apply Scripture, that’s where a good church helps but I also use study guides that are online. I currently am using David Guzik’s online study guides as he covers every single chapter and really brings home the main idea.

The New Testament is a good place to start reading because it tells the good news about Jesus. And once you understand Jesus, reading the Old Testament makes more sense because you see all the foreshadowing of Jesus. Just start reading. Start today. Even if you only have a few minutes. And start praying. Pray that God would open your mind and heart to receive His word. I’m praying for you too.