I almost NEVER get sick. I won’t admit it or even say the word if I’m starting to feel yucky. I have only called in sick three times in nine years of teaching. I was secretly hoping for some sort of Perfect Attendance award like the ones students get at the end of a school year.

Today I am home… sick. Why is this so hard for me to admit?

Before sitting down to write this, I noticed some stuff left out in the living room and kitchen over the weekend. I had to put them away first. Then I had to check email, texts, and Facebook notifications. Okay, got my coffee and two slices of my fave toast. Now I’m ready to sit down and blog.

Cuz I can’t just lie around all day… resting. What would that accomplish?

As I was doing all this, I remembered a friend’s Facebook post from this morning about a Bible theme that has come up for me more than a few times this past week:

‘As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.  Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught.  But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.” But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”’ Luke 10:38-42

Can I just admit that I’ve always felt bad for Martha? I definitely relate to her more than her lazy, unproductive, underachiever of a sister. Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be about priorities and what is ultimately and eternally more important. OR  IS IT?

(Even now as I just got up to go to the bathroom, I see that I need to clean bathrooms, vacuum, and buy dog food.)

Where was I? Oh yeah… OR IS IT?

Yesterday’s daily devotional by good old Oswald Chambers was particularly striking. The title was simply “Do You Really Love Him?”

It posed the idea of doing something for Jesus not because it is useful, or my duty, or because there’s anything in it for me. It’s done purely and simply because I love Him.

I remember when Natalie and Meagan were preschoolers and used to draw me pictures or make cards for me out of scrap paper. Indiscernible Crayola Picasso-esque works accompanied by random letters of the alphabet that sent the one message loud and clear that ONLY a mother could appreciate: “I love you, mommy!”

Works that ONLY a mother could love. And treasure. And put on the refrigerator.

Then I got to thinking what would be the equivalent of THAT to my Heavenly Father? What could I possibly do that would be of value ONLY to God? Something that ONLY Jesus would love? And worthy of putting on His refrigerator?

I’m thinking it wouldn’t involve a clean house, gourmet dinners, healthy bank account, straight A children, lots of Facebook posts, more church service, being nice to Oski, or even  running more marathons.

Last weekend was Valentines Day and also the same day as the L.A. Marathon. I signed up for this one months ago when I saw that it had been moved a month earlier since it was to be the Olympic Trials venue. That meant cooler temps! I had vowed never to run this one again after the humid 85 degree March weather during the 2014 L.A. Marathon which felt like running on the surface of the sun. I watched the February weather forecast like a hawk from day one. Hmmm, didn’t look good. By the time it got to the weekend forecast, temps in the 90s were showing.

But I had planned this one so carefully and even simulated my training runs for L.A. course conditions!

So, one of the things I absolutely LOVE about God is His sense of humor which – for me – translates to how He always works everything out in a way that speaks incredibly deeply and personally. God and I had a good laugh about how I thought I had this race all figured out. All weekend, He kept me laughing. Even being stuck in Friday, long weekend L.A. traffic was humorous as Dave’s GPS woman became the new love of his life. I was actually jealous.

I am pretty thorough about how I pack for travel races. Down to having alternate race outfits, a new tube of BodyGlide (chafing – the struggle is real), and those little plastic wrappers that hotel Q-tips come in which I use to put exactly four Advil to be taken at mile 18. As I left the hotel room at 4:45  to catch the shuttle to the Dodger Stadium start line, I realized I forgot to pack a mylar space blanket since I’d need it for the two hours waiting in the cold morning temps before the 7am start. Oh well. Good thing it wasn’t TOO cold, but it was still chilly.

Another runner was looking for someone to walk with to the shuttle. I enthusiastically agreed since the last time I walked alone to the shuttle on dark L.A. streets was unnerving and unwise. I told her I first wanted to get a trash bag from the concierge to wear since I forgot my mylar blanket. She offered me her sweatshirt since she had brought two. It was my size and even matched my outfit. Yeah, THIS coming from a girl about to wear a trash bag.

My new friend and I caught the shuttle and hung out inside Dodger Stadium which was open to runners this year before the race. We exchanged stories about good and not-so-good races. We chatted about the Olympic trials which my running hero Meb qualified! She didn’t know too much about Meb, so I told her what I knew having read his book Run to Overcome. I shared about how he inspires me with his faith and his own favorite Bible verses like “Run to win!” from 1 Corinthians 9:24. His daughters made a poster with that verse to cheer on their daddy.

An hour just flew by as dawn and race time approached. We walked over to the long lines of porta-potties. This is where we lost each other. Bummer, cuz I really wanted to wish her a good race and tell her I was praying for her.

I made my way to my starting corral along with 25,000 other runners. The sun came up to a beautiful day, National Anthem, starting horn, and my 34th marathon.

I don’t think it actually got up to 90 degrees. In fact, it didn’t feel as warm as I had expected. I spent all of the two days prior chugging water continuously to stay hydrated for the race. We happened to also be in L.A. for Natalie’s swim conference championships, so I was pretty much either watching swims or peeing all day. Dave didn’t realize that having clear pee was a goal to which one aspires. It’s a runner thing. We’ll just leave it at that.

Maybe it’s from being a teacher, but I usually go into a race with a theme and objective. This month I’m leading a women’s Bible study series based on the book Honor’s Reward by John Bevere. Its tag line on the cover says “How to attract God’s favor and blessing.” Who wouldn’t want that?!

Hold on…it’s not what I expected. It speaks of honoring and valuing those people and authorities God has placed above, alongside, and under us. My goal for this Valentines Day race was to honor Jesus and value those around me. How? I often pray for other runners on the course. I always thank volunteers and police. Never litter. Cheer others on with “Good job! Way to go! Don’t give up! or Finish strong!” And TRY to smile so at least it looks like I have the joy of the Lord.

But ANYONE can do those things. What is MY thing that honors God and brings Him so much joy that He’ll want to put it on His refrigerator? How did I run my race in a way that ONLY my Father could love and appreciate?

At mile 23, I realized that I felt pretty good. *This NEVER happens! Of course, I thought about really gunning it to the finish. Then a fave song comes on:  “Breathe” by Jonny Diaz. The bridge of the song says this: “Lay down what’s good and find what’s best.”

THAT would be my Valentine to Jesus. I would stop thinking about my own goals, even though they were good and made sense. I would lay down my “to-do” list. I would enjoy those last four miles to “sit at Jesus’ feet.” Okay, not literally. I would be a Mary runner instead of a Martha runner

Weird thing happened. When I checked my Garmin stats later, I was surprised to see those last few miles were as fast as my first. And it didn’t even feel like it!

Walking through the finishers’ chute and post race recovery area, I caught a glimpse of a familiar blonde. It was my sweatshirt shuttle friend! I called out her name and then we exchanged sweaty hugs and race reports. I had the chance to congratulate her, thank her again for her sweatshirt, and tell her I had prayed for her. If I had run those last few miles according to my own “good” plan, I know I would not have met up with Robin.

Timing was also impeccable for catching the shuttle back to the hotel. In the past, I’ve waited anywhere from 15-30 minutes for the bus to leave then another 40 minutes in traffic which is just more time for lactic acid to have its way in these old legs of mine. The last seats on the bus were next to THE MOST FRIENDLY couple I’ve ever met. Seriously, if there was an award for “Mr. and Mrs. Congeniality” of the race, they won! We chatted and hobbled back to the hotel together. (They were both much younger as well as Boston qualifiers, so I felt just the tiniest bit of satisfaction that they were hobbling worse than me.)  I mentioned I was headed to watch my daughter’s swim finals. The husband said “Hey, we should bring our kids to your daughter’s meet!” WHO DOES THAT?!

When we got to the hotel, they asked me to take a picture of them in the lobby with their medals. As I was reaching for his phone to take the pic, a stranger in the lobby offered to take the pic of the three of us since he assumed we were friends. We politely laughed and declined. They took my pic for me.

Aside from the fact that I had gone against every stranger danger rule that day, God orchestrated all sorts of people and circumstances to illustrate how He loves me in detailed ways that are probably ONLY meaningful to me.

So, maybe now on God’s fridge there’s a crayon scribbled drawing of two girls at the finish line of the L.A. Marathon with a smiley face sun over the beach in the background. And another drawing of three stick figure people wearing medals with big disproportionate heads and smiles. But ONLY God would know what I had just scribbled for Him…and why.