Tomorrow Is Gonna Be Better

I’m writing from the air just now, somewhere over Greenland.  On my way home for a few days before going to Mexico for a month.  My laptop is almost out of battery life and I am burned out thinking about backcrossing schemes and cost analysis.  A while ago, I was listening to Joshua Radin on the in-flight system singing “Tomorrow is gonna be better”.  The song made me think of Carrie and of how grateful I am for her.  It is impossible to explain how inextricably tied Carrie is to my peace of mind and stability.  Going home to my closest friend and spending time with her -- no pretention, no anxiety over who I am. Being away makes being home so much more healing.  Something on the order of the calm that comes from exhaustion when you lie in the grass at the finish line of a marathon and drink in the cool air and feel the muscles in your legs twitching and tired.  You can feel your heart beat begin to slow.  I hold her hand and the same thing happens.

Ten years ago Carrie and I were at a very low point in our marriage.  2003 was a very hard year.  By the grace of God we emerged from that season stronger.  We moved to Minneapolis that summer.  At the end of the summer, Carrie gave me a card with a letter.  The letter was too personal to share, but the card represented something far beyond, something I needed to know and understand, something I had missed for ten years – not entirely, but mostly.  Something I had unintentionally neglected. 

Lovers Walking -- Pellizza da Volpede (1868-1907)

The picture on the front of the card depicts a couple walking in a sunny garden, talking with one another.  For Carrie, the picture represented two people sharing their dreams and hopes.  It helped me to understand.  I’ve carried the card with me for ten years in my computer case.  It reminds me of the precious gift Carrie is to me, it reminds me to listen, and it enables me to dream.  Not so much to dream about the future as to dream about our future.

 

The intervening years have been so beautiful.  Not without challenge - but always full of hope and grounded in love.  Vivid memories of hiking Hallett’s Peak with her.  Sitting peacefully outside a busy café in Santiago.  Walking in the rain to Lake Nokomis.  Holding hands through her cancer treatment or standing at my beloved Grandfather’s grave.  Watching our two children grow and flourish.  Witnessing the faithfulness of God and experiencing His grace through this exceptional woman, my dear friend and one true Love.  I hope to dream together for as long as God grants us life.

_____________________________________________________________

Let the rain fall,

    Let the rain fall,

Till the day is new and all that’s left

   Is me and you

Tomorrow is Gonna Be Better

                Joshua Radin

Urban Trail Running -- Harare

Urban Trail Running -- Harare

Two times this week I was able to get out running in Harare, Zimbabwe.  Early Sunday morning I ran from the hotel out and back – just over 10 miles.  It was a beautiful, cool morning.  There are well worn paths along the streets of Harare.  Some streets have sidewalks in various states of disrepair. Where the sidewalks end, there are foot paths through the brick-red soil.  You need to watch your step while running in Harare – roots and stones on the foot paths or uneven sidewalks and potholes in the pavement keep you from daydreaming.

It might have been confounded with the exhilaration of running outside on a beautiful morning, but it seemed to me that the people of Harare were uncommonly cordial and personable.  Right at the five mile mark, there was a small grocery store.  I bought a bottle of water for a dollar.  The water was actually $0.65, but the cashier had no coins.  He asked if I would like a second bottle, but one was really all I wanted to carry.  So many people greeted me on the run.

It was certainly memorable for me – my first 10 mile run in Africa. 

 

My shoes enjoying life in Zimbabwe.