running races, taking steps

It's never good when I neglect my writing, which is exactly when I've been doing over the past couple of weeks. Since I started this blog, I haven't written in my journal much, so this is my primary location for pulling my thoughts out of the messy purse of my mind, setting them out on the table and taking a good look. Today I actually have some external happenings to write about, which makes this entry feel a bit less daunting than usual.

Last Sunday Jon and I ran our first 10K together in downtown San Jose. When Jon first told me he was registering for it, I chirped, "Sign me up too!" I've never run a race before, so I thought it would be an interesting experience. Because Jon woke up that morning with a ground-shaking cough and piercing headache, he decided to slow his pace down to that of his short-legged wife. We crowded in near the start line with about 5,000 other Bay Area residents and learned the streets of the city from a new perspective. A couple of live bands stationed along the course boosted our energy with their bass-heavy songs. I didn't pay much attention to my speed, but I was actually somewhat impressed with how quickly I finished the race. Must have been all of the excitement.

Monday evening we decided to turn away from all of our reasonable but flimsy excuses, pack up the old acoustic in its case and let the folks at Red Rock Coffee hear our interpretations of a couple of Over the Rhine songs (Anything At All and Moth, in case any of your Rhineheads were curious). We ran through the songs just before leaving the house, and although they required more effort on my part than I wanted to give, I did not back out. We were first on the list -- apparently that's a spot few people want.

In The Artist's Way, I recently read a chapter about how our expectations of God and how he feels about us living out our dreams and destinies can actually limit our progress, at least for semi-blocked artists like me (though I'm on my way out of that blocked state). God does not think that my desire to be a professional musician is frivolous or lofty. But I think it's easy to get stuck in the belief that God is "all about business" and just wants me to do things that society views as responsible. But the truth is, when we take steps toward what we're meant to be doing, really good things start to happen. When we expect God to clear the way ahead of us, and we step out believing that, it usually pans out that way. Good things start happening. . . opportunities appear.

I have to believe that that's what was happening Monday night at the coffee house. I started to sing the first song (the easier of the two), and noticed how easy it was for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw heads bobbing and people stopping conversations to listen. During the second song, I couldn't believe how effortless the singing felt. It was markedly different than when we had practiced not 30 minutes ago. Something in me had opened up, and it could not be because of anything I had done. When we finished and the applause ended, someone shouted that we needed to play some more songs. I think he was right.