Forgotten?

My dad didn't want to run with me this last weekend. He had some excuse about how he wanted to save his energy up for his tennis match with his buddy. Whatev.

I was on my own.

My mom had filled me in on the hot scoop that our Costco had gotten a new shipment of Rock & Republic and Seven for All Mankind jeans. My dad was going out there to look for moss killer and a blender so I decided to ride along since I definitely can't turn down bargain jeans :)

My dad offered to pick me up on the way to Costco if I wanted to get my run done beforehand. Being sweaty at Costco was a small price to pay for me not having to run the big hill up back to the house :)

I got running clothes on and told my dad EXACTLY when to leave the house to pick me up. I made SURE he knew where I would probably be and if he couldn't find me to assume he had missed me and turn around. NOT go farther. :)

Off I went. The first mile was fine. The next one was okay. Then I started to find myself looking backward for my dad's truck. Red Jeep. White Honda. Nope, Nope. After almost getting maimed by a toddler riding their bike (Dear that kid's parents: Your child is beyond ready to take off the training wheels, by the way) and tripping on a tree root, I decided looking backward for him was too dangerous :) By this time, I was absolutely convinced my dad had forgotten to leave the house and pick me up. I would be all the way to the freeway before he realized his daughter was hitch-hiking and trying to get back home. A good ten minutes was spent in PURE panic. I think partially because I was getting tired and hungry and it was starting to rain (I mean, come on, he would have eventually realized I was gone. I always could have just stopped and walked home. Not THAT big of a deal. But for some reason, it seemed like the end of the world.)

"OK. My dad DID NOT forget about me. I am at max 4 miles from home. I need to suck it up and keep going. He said he would pick me up at a certain time. It must not be that time yet and I have to just keep running." I wiped away a big, hot salty tear that had dripped down my face (I told you, it felt like the end of the world :)

I turned it to my go-to treadmill song. Lady Gaga "Born this way" (don't deny, you love it too :) and starting trucking along. I started peeking back every few minutes just to make he wouldn't miss me...

I literally kept saying in my head, "He did not forget you. He did not forget you. Keep running, keep running. See how far you can get. He will be here before you know it."

Just when the tears had started again and my sideache was coming back and I swear I was getting a blister (sometimes I am a whiner) I was JUST about to stop and start walking. I was SURE I had been forgotten and would have to start hitch-hiking my way back, my dad's truck turned into the culdesac in front of me. I don't think I had ever been so happy to see him in my entire life :) He didn't forget about me!

The cool part? He wasn't late. He had left EXACTLY when I had told him too. I had just ran waaayyy farther than I had thought I would.

Sometimes the God as my "father" analogy is a little weird and hard for me to grasp. I like to think of him more as my friend :) Except this run, I was able to see some of the "fatherly" qualities of the Big Guy. He will NOT forget about us. He will push us and push us and push us until we can't go any longer. When we are about to start walking? He shows up. It's okay if we need to look backwards a few times to make sure he is still there, but we can go A LOT farther if we just trust that he is there, chugging right along with us. It might SEEM like he is late to pick us up or give us a little rest, but he isn't. He is always right on time. Just like my daddy was.

This weekend I watched a boxing match with Drew. The announcer was talking about how when one of the boxers was younger, he would go out for training runs. His dad would drive behind him in his car, actually NUDGING him with his bumper to make sure he was keeping his running pace. This cracked me up. I totally think God does this too. Sometimes when we don't wanna listen, He has to get serious ;)