There is an ear catching song in the movie The Lion King that’s a bit of a guilty pleasure: “Be Prepared” sung by Scar and his hyenas. I hate how often it gets stuck in my head. It usually happens when I’m in some sort of slump and trying to get motivated. “Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared! BE PRE PAAAAAARED!!!” That’s the line I get stuck on completely neglecting that Mr. Bad Guy and his henchmen are plotting murder. The murder of a king no less.
Currently my body is acting like I’m in the process of systematic murder: toes, feet, ankles, shins, knees, hips. Training for a half marathon is no joke. My usual running locale is the C&O canal towpath. It’s flat, shady, and mostly unpopulated. It works for my daily 5k. It is horrible as a real world training course. A week ago I found that out the hard way.
With race season pretty much switching to the virtual option finding a race that was still live (!) was only one step below getting Bigfoot’s autograph. The fact it was sponsored by a craft show I had been a vendor at for almost a decade was icing on the cake. I already had planned to not be doing shows this year so it looked like everything was perfectly falling into place. Plus I could get local peaches at the finish line for a really good price. Sign me up. The week before the race I got ready. Kept my diet in check, did my miles, foam rolled, and stretched. Got my #flatme* ready the night before and my gear laid out. I was prepared. I thought.
When you’re used to running flat, shady, and gravelly it makes hilly, sunny, and paved a lot of work. A lot of work! Except in my mind I had something to prove. Somewhere in the 3.1 miles it occurred to me I should slow my run pace or at least use more fast walk intervals. I didn’t. I should have walked up the last hill instead of going flat out to the finish line. I didn’t. I should have kept my hydration bottle with me. I dropped it off with a friend.
There were major consequences. The hyenas of heat exhaustion and dehydration were singing la-la-la the whole time I laid on my bathroom floor unable to move. Three hours of (rhymes with comet) befell me before I passed out on the air conditioning vent. I don’t get sick so this was beyond shocking. If it wouldn’t have been for the pandemic I would have gone to the ER for a saline bag. I am definitely someone who learns lessons the hard way. But better to have learned it on a close to home 5k than the upcoming live (!) over an hour away half marathon.
Somewhere within my recovery time “Be Prepared” filtered back to my memory. I was not even close to being ready for that race. I had the gear and the positive outlook. I lacked the physical aspects of preparedness. Hills work the muscles in a different way. Sun has a greater impact than just deepening my crow’s feet by squinting. And pavement is cruel compared to jogger jolt friendly gravel and dirt.
I’ve come to realize how much of my life I am not prepared to handle. There are things that look good but are they what I actually need? Laying on the couch with Nurse Ellie the Cat gave me a bit of time to read. I wound up in the book of Judges because I was seriously judging my actions. Everyone has different ways of inspiration for study. Mine makes no sense to anyone but the cats and I. In Judges 4:17-22 there is recorded the account of the death of Sisera.
“But Sisera fled away on foot to the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, for there was peace between Jabin the king of Hazor and the house of Heber the Kenite. And Jael came out to meet Sisera and said to him, “Turn aside, my lord; turn aside to me; do not be afraid.” So he turned aside to her into the tent, and she covered him with a rug. And he said to her, “Please give me a little water to drink, for I am thirsty.” So she opened a skin of milk and gave him a drink and covered him. And he said to her, “Stand at the opening of the tent, and if any man comes and asks you, ‘Is anyone here?’ say, ‘No.’” But Jael the wife of Heber took a tent peg, and took a hammer in her hand. Then she went softly to him and drove the peg into his temple until it went down into the ground while he was lying fast asleep from weariness. So he died. And behold, as Barak was pursuing Sisera, Jael went out to meet him and said to him, “Come, and I will show you the man whom you are seeking.” So he went in to her tent, and there lay Sisera dead, with the tent peg in his temple.”
There’s a lot in there. There’s a defeated leader running from battle, a place of faux refuge, and an unlikely heroine. Sisera must have thought he had it made when he saw her tent. Peace between the two families existed so it looked like the perfect hiding place. Jael even came out and invited him to enter. “Covered him with a rug” is basically saying she hid him in a bed. He asks for water and gets milk. He has her stand guard until those chasing him depart the area. It looks like he’s prepared to escape. Except Jael is more prepared than he is.
She could have tucked him somewhere uncomfortable to hide and milk has a soporific effect. As Sisera’s adrenaline wears off the combination of soft mattress and full belly overtake him. He sleeps. He’s so far gone he doesn’t realize the peril he’s in willingly. The Bible doesn’t say how Jael knows Sisera is no longer in the winner’s circle, but it does record a prophecy in Judges 4:9. Deborah the prophetess tells Barak the warrior that Sisera will die at the hand of a woman.
When Sisera has finally completely succumbed to the events of the day, Jael makes her move. She gets a tent spike and hammers it through his head. Don’t overlook the detail about the peg being driven into the ground. Jael used enough force to drive it though Sisera’s skull, all the bedding, and then into the ground. Target acquisition? She definitely nailed it. She then walks out of the tent and tells Barak that she has the man he’s looking for. Jael is remembered in the victory song Deborah and Barak sing in 5:24-27.
I wonder how this would have played out if Jael was a less than stellar housekeeper. What if the bed hadn’t been set up? What if she hadn’t milked the animals that morning? What if she didn’t have extra tent pegs? And yet, when God gave the prophecy through Deborah about Sisera’s death He already knew those things were not an issue.
For me, Jael is a tough woman. She’s a warrior. She is the improv leader of the grim reaper set. She requires no henchmen, no back up crew. There is no catchy musical number to plot demise and poof egos. She simply gets the job done. I wonder what circumstances of her life made her the kind of tough it takes to be the woman she had to be in that moment. What would prepare someone for that?
Jael is a reminder that our daily life is also a means to prepare us for eternity. There are things in life that seem innocuous and friendly that need to be laid to rest. There are things we have made peace with that we should be driving a death spike through. When Heber and Jael packed up to move the tent it’s a sure thing the body of Sisera didn’t get taken along with them. Too many times we hesitate to drive the death blow of true repentance into our sin because it looks peaceful. Our sin is full bellied and appears to be dormant.
We can not coexist with our sin when it has already been spoken that the sin is to die. No amount of praise music can drown out the whisper of temptation if we are not prepared to do whatever it takes to hear the voice of God first. The enemy prowls like a lion seeking who he may devour. This is not a cartoon figure pacing on ledge. This is reality.
We have to prepare for the real race that’s to be run: gritty, hot, draining. The ideal circumstances are nice to think about but they do not truly establish a foundation of endurance. The outcome we have is the outcome we trained for. Unfortunately, most of the modern church world needs retrained. Too many are snuggled in bed while a friendly looking foe waits to slay. It’s come to the place of spike or be spiked.
As I write this there are only 61 days until the live (!) half marathon. Two months to train in less than ideal conditions so that on race day I won’t have a less than ideal experience. Being prepared takes work. Sometimes it’s obvious effort, and sometimes it’s simply the daily details. If I thought the heat of the Peach Fest 5k was unbearable I can not imagine what an eternity of hell fire would be like. I’m taking the spike of repentance and nailing the sin of complacency straight to the ground.
Who else is reaching for the finish line?
*flatme is a picture of your running outfit taken the night before without you in it. It’s a runner thing I think is hysterical. This was mine for that event.
Musings In The MidWest 