Tonight I spent the evening doing something that makes me very uncomfortable- promoting, in person, this book I’ve written. I loved writing the book. I enjoyed the accomplishments of running marathons. But, promoting it is hard on me. I had a website made and got a Facebook page, thinking that if the Lord wants to use this book I’ll do my part of at least making it known. But to sit at a table while a couple thousand people walk by and to potentially be the focal point of attention… ugh.
All of this started with one of those feelings that you think you’re supposed to act on. Without thinking too much, I just did it. I contacted the Joplin Memorial Run race director about getting a booth so that those couple thousand people might see the book. The awesome director of Rufus Racing, Ruth, was immediately supportive and so nice. But, uh oh, now I’ve gotta do it.
So there I was, trying not to look like a fish on dry ground, when it happened…A person came near, whom I’d never met, whose mother was the inspiration for a story in my book. The mother battled with brain cancer for two years and had ended up affecting people far and wide that she never knew (including me) because of her determined faith and infectiously optimistic attitude through the storm of her life. I’d wanted to inform the family that I’d referenced her (whose real name I didn’t use) in my book, but I didn’t know how to do it. And suddenly the opportunity presented itself. I walked over and introduced myself and told her what I’d done, offering her a book, asking her to decide whether her father should see it or read it. Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke about her amazing mother. Before we parted, she asked if she could hug me.
Sometimes the Lord brings us to places that we don’t really enjoy and don’t care for. We wonder what the value is or (if you’re like me) you say things like “I’m never doing that again.” Until the reason you were there suddenly presents and blessing to another, or blessing from another, flows.
The other 1700 people who walked by that day were not the point. My discomfort was not the point. That one lady, her husband, her family, they were the point. That’s why I was there.
Which then reminds me to say again, “Here am I, Lord, send me.”