Signs of Change

One of the bigger signs of change today, surprisingly, is me running—up on my two legs, out the front door, funneling myself down the Greenway, past the park, toward the river trails. I've been sidelined the past few days with a cold of some sort and had yet to run a step in November before this morning's 9-mile shake-out alongside the Mississippi. While mid-day naps are enjoyable for a season (probably taken more this past week than this past year), I'm very thankful to be on the mend.

Other signs of change I picked up on this morning:

• The Train: This is probably one of those things that only gets noticed when you spend too much time in one place, but this is the first time I've seen a train travel this direction on the tracks that run parallel to the Greenway. Usually, trains go away from the city (Minneapolis), crossing the Mississippi toward St. Paul and beyond (I like to think it heads up the western shore of Lake Superior into Canada). The conductor waved hello as he passed. I'm sure he thought I was a tourist with my eyes wide and my camera steadied on the fence. It may just be my generation (or me), but I find it remarkably easy to romanticize the life of a train conductor. Not only is he able, with a single flip of his finger, to command tons and tons (literally) of heavy metal and machinery, but he also just appears as if from nowhere. Like magic. One second, he's out of sight; the next, he pops out from around the corner in a controlled cruise on the Momentum Express. The 300 seconds it takes for all 27 cars to slide pass are long ones. How anyone manages to go on with life in the presence of such power (see bikers below), I'll never know. This is all without even mentioning the cool hats and the even cooler Caboose situation (does anyone really even know what's in there?). I'm sure the life of a conductor is also filled with long hours of risky work away from friends and family, but there is just something enchanting about it all. (For the record, and possibly further investigation, it was a 8:27a cross time.)

• Clothing: I think it's safe to say at this point (30 degrees this morning) that winter running clothes are in full swing, my favorite item being the toboggan:

This morning, I also took my heavy duty running pants (rated for the negatives) out for a spin. I figure it's best to try things out at least once before I really need them. Even though we've yet to experience the first snow, I guess frost is likely here to stay:

That's new.

• Leaves: The biggest sign of change this morning were, without a doubt, the leaves—more specifically the number of them floating through the air. I've never been on a run before with such consistent leaf droppage. It was like it was raining leaves, like God raked what was still left on the trees into piles and then over and over again kept pouring them in front of me. For whatever reason, today was the day.

Barrenness.

You can imagine what this would do for leaf-catching. Strategizing and targeting (steps 1 and 2) were almost non-existent phases given the sheer volume of stuff falling out of the sky...

For perspective.

The Green Treasure.

Executing and rejoicing (steps 3 and 4) ruled the day! When all was said and caught, I walked in the front door with 12 new leaves, tripling the season's total to 18! Unbelievable. I felt like a kid in a candy store all morning, barely able to take five steps in the same direction without darting for another treasure. Or, like a grown-up kid in a used book store wanting to read (and smell) everything at the same time.

Such a lavish morning adventure reminded me of the lavish love that God has for his own children:

[2:1] And you were dead in the trespasses and sins [2] in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—[3] among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. [4] But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, [5] even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—[6] and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, [7] so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. [8] For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, [9] not a result of works, so that no one may boast. (Ephesians 2:1-9, ESV)

In this text, Paul answers the question: How do dead people live? In verses 1-3, he says that everyone ("among whom we all once lived") is born ("by nature") dead in their sins, completely willful ("carrying out") in hating God (that is what "sin" and "trespass" mean) and completely helpless in doing anything else (that's what "dead" means). Then, in verses 4-9, Paul tells us that God is the one who takes the initiative ("But God") and makes them alive by giving them faith ("through faith") which attaches them to Jesus. It is "together with Christ" and "in Christ" that dead people can have life.

There's lots of how-does-this-happen sort of details included here, and they are important (as important as knowing the particulars of the evacuation route just before a hurricane hits), but don't miss the why-does-God-do-this language of verse 4: "because of the great love with which he loved us." God loves his children a love, a great one at that! Even more, verse 7: "so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus." God's plan for the rest of eternity, beginning now in new life, is to reveal to his children how unplumbable are the depths of his grace. That's awesome, in the truest sense.

God, in sending his Son into the world to be the substitute (Jesus bearing the punishment sinners deserved while sinners receive his righteousness), is not reluctant or apathetic. He sends his Son to save the ones he loves, and loved even before that one time he said, "Let there be light." (Eph. 1:4; Gen. 1:3)

If we have embraced the message of the gospel rightly (the biggest sign of change in the universe), we have been embraced by the God of the gospel. We ought to feel loved in a lavish way—like a kid in a candy store, or like one racing through the woods catching more leaves than he knows what to do with.