Things I've Seen While Running — Avery Edwards Art

As an artist, I have found myself gasping in wonder, stopping in my tracks to point out cows grazing in the deep purple morning fog on the hillside or red dirt that covers the bottom of my shoes or aspen trees, parting just a little, just for me to prance beneath their glittering branches. Sometimes, I stop to say “look!” to nobody but myself, and I can’t help but laugh at my own giddiness, alone with my Creator. I have seen His majesty in the mountains, booming with thunder as I rush to find shelter, still miles from my destination. I have seen His humor in a wild moose, staring me down as I carefully and quietly pass by without disrupting his afternoon stillness in the woods. I have seen His steadfastness in the crashing waves as I run alongside the beach, a gentle reminder that even in the darkness, the sun rises again, and each crashing wave is followed by another and another and another. I have seen His goodness in silence on the top of the hill, looking down at the little life I’ve been gifted, hearing distant laughter of some I know and some I hope to meet soon. I have seen His peace in miles of golden fields, swaying with wheat that twinkles as it catches colored light – sometimes a soft peach, others a vibrant gold. And I have seen His love in every moment, whether covered in cool drops of persistent rain, drenched in summer sweat, tossed by gusts of wind, frozen by my own breath, or half-asleep with every trudging step. I have seen His love in every sunrise, every shaking breath, every conversation shared, every race-number pinned, and every prayer muttered to the constant pitter-patter of bounding feet.

This project is one I have wanted to do for a very long time because I so deeply desire to share these experiences with you. Over the past few years, I’ve stopped to capture little moments where I’ve found myself gazing in wonder at the world around me, taking a quick picture on my phone. Of course, so many of these moments are impossible to truly capture, many I was not carrying a camera, and the essence of each day can only be felt and experienced by those with me on the trail, but I simply wanted to try to remember many of these days. Recently, I realized I had built quite a collection of photos taken while running during my college career, and I decided I wanted to illustrate each of them in a postcard series. Naturally, there are so many more, and I haven’t stopped recording these little glimpses of God’s glory, but this is just a start. Before you are 28 (?) illustrations of “Things I’ve Seen While Running.” I hope you find yourself inspired, desiring to get outside and see the sunrise and all that it brings with it yourself, whether that means going on a morning run, walking leisurely, or just sitting outside on your porch, coffee in hand, ready to let the Lord speak through the quiet in the morning. Let the birds sing his symphony of grace, and give him the firstfruits of your day in quiet meditation. Maybe you’ll begin to understand why I’ve allowed running to become a sort of liturgy I love to experience and long for if I miss out on this privilege.

Things I’ve Seen While Running.

“How could you possibly want to do that every day?”

Most of the time, when I tell others I’m a runner, they respond, with wide eyes and a higher-pitched voice with something along the lines of, “Why would you choose to run?” or, “Isn’t running supposed to be a punishment?” or even, my personal favorite, “Do you hate yourself or something because running is the WORST!” Trust me, I know that others have rather strong opinions on those of us who choose to run every single day, rain or shine, sometimes before the sun has risen for the day or any of the other members of our households have awoken, but if you asked some of my teammates, my friends, or me, we could give you so many reasons to wake up in the morning and choose to do the hard thing.

Running, to me, is a hiatus from the normal world. It’s a chance to move my body, with gratitude for the ability to take each step and breathe each breath. It’s a moment outdoors, lost in thought, sometimes accompanied by the matching footsteps of other women I love and whose strength I deeply admire. Some days, it’s a reminder that I can accomplish difficult things, even when I don’t want to, even when my sheets feel so much warmer than the frost-covered grass waiting outside my front door. And each time, without fail, running is an act of worship to the One who made my soul and my body – my body that sometimes aches and struggles to catch its breath, but my body that has endured years of early mornings, conquered thousands of miles on the open trail, and allowed me to experience hundreds and hundreds of sunrises in ways that very few people do. The sweetest part about all of it is that the One who created this body also created the stars when my first steps are taken into the dark, the One who orchestrated that gentle breeze that pulls strands of hair from our braids, the One who paints each pastel cloud with dawn’s rosy fingers, the One who knows the number of pebbles beneath our crunching shoes, and the One who smiles proudly as His children encounter his goodness through creation.