Lisa Bowden

“Almighty and merciful God, it is only by your gift that your faithful people offer you true and laudable service: Grant that we may run without stumbling to obtain your heavenly promises; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.”

Dear Friends,

I’ve been running again after a decade. I think how cool it is to simply get to move my body across a few miles of earth by sheer leg power. I marvel at that gift even running on a track where I'm not linearly moving very far from where I start. 

I watched a toddler run the sidewalk outside the Murphy Gallery after Father Peter’s party last Sunday. Someone asked if I was running after her. I gladly would have but she was making her own perfect way up the slope toward her grandmother by herself. Maybe it was a cake-fueled effort, but her full-body exuberance made me think about the things worth aspiring upward for.

When I was a bit younger than my own daughter is now—maybe 10—I walked 21 miles on a Sunday with my father and 100s of others through small New Jersey towns where I grew up. The event was called the Walk for Mankind. I knocked on neighbors' doors asking for pledges, a quarter or a dollar per mile. Out of a long list of causes I picked one that struck me as worthy: fighting starvation in Bangladesh. I recall the photos of kids' emaciated bodies, distended stomachs, and knees protruding like tree burls between skinny leg bones. 

The last miles of the Walk were all long, wet rolling hills. We were 4 hours in when it started to rain. The blisters on both heels that erupted at mile 10 began to rub off onto the bandaids between the backs of my wet canvas sneakers and my skin. I remember stumbling on a downhill and falling onto the slick pavement skinning both my knees, blood trickling down in rivulets onto the tops of muddy crew socks. I thought I was toast, but, I stopped at an aid station, got bandaged up, ate a cookie, and dusted myself off. It wasn’t pretty, but I crossed that finish line.

Today’s Collect reminds me to make effort especially when the wayfinding is awkward and full of stumbles. My way is sometimes more stumble than run these days, so when I get impatient with my own asking and longing, I try to see beyond to the gift—the thing that keeps me journeying and opening to grace.

"We are all just walking each other home."—Ram Dass.

Peace,

—Lisa