Talents

While I love being athletic and playing sports, I also love music.  But I decided long ago that I when it came time in heaven to hand out the talents, I must have spent all my time in the sports lines and by the time I got in the musical talent line they were scraping the bottom of the barrel.   Alas, despite the efforts of my good Mother, I didn't put the time into learning the piano that I should have, so I realize any lack of talent is completely my own fault.  I was busy running off to soccer or track practice or to do anything else that didn't involve sitting at the piano.  Go figure.  However, there is a part of me that would love to be the elegant concert pianist, touching souls with heavenly music rather than pounding out rhythms on the pavement.
Now don't get me wrong. I value my talents and am immensely grateful for them. But sometimes I wonder what good it is.  I mean, in the eternal scheme of things, why run?  In case you haven't noticed, running for long periods of time and kicking a ball through the grass are not exactly considered performing arts, and therefore rarely needed for service in inspirational settings.  

Case in point:  I was talking with a friend one day who has a beautiful singing voice.  I complimented her on a musical number she performed at a funeral that was inspiring and emotional, and I wished that I could sing like her.  She accepted the compliment, and tried to return one by saying, "But you are really good at running."
Great, I said, but how often do people want me to run at their funeral? I have never been asked to run in church or at someone's wedding.  Talent shows have never begged me to run around the stage.  Can you imagine what folks would say when I threw my hair in a ponytail and started doing laps around the chapel? Thrilled, I'm sure.
So here I sit, knowing that while I value my talents, I will never be asked to perform them for anyone.   Maybe my talents aren't designed to help others.  But maybe they are perfecting me one mile at a time.  Running is polishing off the rough edges, humbling me by doses, and connecting me to people around me.  I have made excellent friends through running, solved problems, and found little nuggets of inspiration hidden along the side of the road.  I have enjoyed the amazing creation of my own body, as well as experienced the wonderful creation of the world around me.  

My sweaty feet have never been called angelic; my races will never move anyone to tears.  I won't ever be a concert musician, but my talents are perfect for teaching me the things I need to know to get through this life.  So on I go.  Happy running.