Reflections of a Running Reverend

Our older son sings in his school's "honor" choir and one of their songs for their Christmas tour and home concert is "Just One Candle" by Teresa Jennings. I love its harmony. It starts with a solo, then a duet, and then progresses to the full choir. What great symbolism for how the flame of one candle can spread from "wick to wick", from person to person, when it is shared. If I light just one candle and you light just one, too, and we pass the flame from wick to wick, from us to you and you... I am also drawn to the song's message, especially in the midst of the "darkness" in our world today. When I was watching them perform this song, I found myself in tears, touched by the words and realizing that it really takes a simple act by you and me and everyone else in the world... And if we keep it going around the world, you'll see the world is glowing with the light that came from you and me! Christmas continues to become

This Saturday, I will be running the Willow Solstice Marathon in Willow, Alaska for the third straight year. Last year, I did it as a prayer run, playing on the theme of it being held on the winter solstice, the longest night (or at least the Saturday closest to it) and dedicating the run to those who are in the "longest nights" of their lives. I plan to do that again this weekend. I am reposting excerpts from a blog post I wrote a year ago because my words then are still my words now as I again dedicate this run in prayer and solidarity for you who are living in darkness right now. +++ I am running the Willow Winter Solstice Marathon this Saturday. It will be another prayer run for me. This time, I'm running for those who can't. Let me explain. From its name, the Willow Marathon is held on a Saturday closest to the winter solstice, the day when the darkness is longest. In some churches, a Longest Night or Blue Christmas service is held and is specificall

I used to run with earphones and listen to music. I do not anymore.  On one level, it's a safety issue. I would like to be fully aware of my surroundings and be able to react accordingly. When I run on streets and sidewalks, I would like to hear if a car is coming or if a fellow runner or biker wants to pass me. When I'm on the trails, I certainly would like to hear it if a bear or a moose is close by. There is also a deeper level to my giving-up earphones, one that's more spiritual. I've said before that running for me is a spiritual discipline ( read here ) . When I run, I am able to commune with God. A long run allows me to clear my mind and process my thoughts and emotions. There is something about the sound of my feet hitting the ground in sync with my breathing that soothes and centers me. To that cadence, I say a mantra that's based on Philippians 4:13, my life verse. Having earphones and music would not allow me to that. On this level, I would like to b