Running in the Dark

I have always bounced between being a "night person" (most of college, touring on the road, etc.) and being a "morning person" (working at a church or other established institutions). These days I seem to be a morning person. Two things have helped: a morning run in the dark, and taking my daughter to high school (which for some unfathomable reason starts at 730 am in our town!).

The morning run gives me time to think. No distractions (other than avoiding the headlines of cars speeding by on the parkway), almost no other people (except for a few high school students waiting for the school bus), and almost no sound. It's really quiet--eerily so. And in that time, besides doing something I feel is pretty good for me, I have time alone. Really alone.

Today I listened to Ocean Eyes by Owl City. After nearly a month of non-stop play in my car CD player (followed by merciless analyzing and picking apart in order to understand why this talented young person's music affects me so powerfully), I had put it away on the shelf and turned to other things: Cool-period jazz (Miles Davis and Oliver Nelson), Sting's new "Symphonicities", and a variety of things. But today Ocean Eyes once again made its way to my iPod Shuffle. And everything old is new again. What a wonderfully crafted CD, in every way--lyrics, melodies, production, grooves, content. It's really a complete expression, and I love it.

I also thought about my life, particularly after reading Adam Young's Owl City Blog Post about his new rendition of the worship classic "In Christ Alone" by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend. This 24-year old artist/worshiper challenges me in many ways, but most particularly by encouraging me to live life at my very best. His words remind me of a statement by John Ortberg in his "The Life You've Always Wanted" book and study series. John defines a spiritually mature person as one who "does the right thing at the right time in the right way for the right reason." It's a high calling, and I am humbled at how much of my life is lived while on autopilot, or "mailing it in" (doing less than my very best), or reaching too low with goals and standards. It's something that any artist, particularly one who also tries to support a family, has to reckon with. But this high calling is what gives our lives meaning, and allows us to press on.

Thank you Adam for the encouragement and inspiration. Your words and thoughts reverberated in the quiet of my morning run in the dark, and brought daylight to my soul.