Friday, July 25, 2008


The morning came and went without me stepping out into the cool. Before I had the chance, the heat of the day was singing the sidewalks and all hopes of getting out on a run were dashed until dusk.

By the time the sun set behind the lake and the smell of fireworks filled the air, I laced up my Nike's , donned a blue tank and let my feet rhythmically strike the pavement as they carried me away from my home and towards another. The run down Timpview Drive was dotted with firework shows. I ran past family after family; moms in lawn chairs holding their littlest kittens in their laps while the dads held the lighters. The display of fountains ranged significantly, but the spray of color was second only to the magical dancing sparklers held by little hands and waving in the darkness. It reminded me of when I would twirl around with my little shining wand on the 4th of July and pretend I was a dancer, or a princess, or a fairy.

When I reached the top of the hill I walked briefly before sinking in the grass to think and thank. I pondered the wonders of the world and the beauties of my life. I thought about the clarity of the gospel and the easiness of the way. At that same moment thoughts of how difficult easiness can be and how simple it is to live a flat-line life. The hour kept burning late with the fuses of the last lights I could see flashing in the night so I picked up my feet to begin the run home.

Though the journey back was far less spectacular, it was accompanied by the smell of the shells of the fiery displays and pockets of cold air created by sprinklers. During the final seconds of the sprint down my block I thought how blessed I am to have had all my senses enlivened in a single night of celebration.

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