“Understanding that heavy things can’t fly,
she let go of what was weighing on her heart,
the things she could no more control than carry,
and she gave herself a chance,
a chance to reach into the unassuming blue,
to embrace the possibility of an open sky,
with an open heart.
She gave herself a chance to soar”
Jodi Hills, An Imperfect Life [Golden Valley, MN: Tristan Publishing, 2008].
she let go of what was weighing on her heart,
the things she could no more control than carry,
and she gave herself a chance,
a chance to reach into the unassuming blue,
to embrace the possibility of an open sky,
with an open heart.
She gave herself a chance to soar”
Jodi Hills, An Imperfect Life [Golden Valley, MN: Tristan Publishing, 2008].
One of the things I said after a one-mile run that was harder than it should have been was that I felt heavy. Like my body was just holding me back. My friend replied perfectly, “That’s exactly why you’re doing this, so that it can’t anymore.”
I remembered something that struck me during the 2010 Olympics. During the ski jump competition, one of the commentators said, “Fat don’t fly.” It made me giggle and become my new favorite catchphrase (really—you can use it in any circumstance; try it). As I remembered that phrase, I realized the Lord has been planting seeds in my head to do what I’m doing for a very long time.
Right before I left for Fitness Ridge, I was invited to think about a quote from one of my favorite men who ever lived, the Apostle Paul:
“Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).
“Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).
It was a very literal image for a very literal journey.
And that imagery was with me for the next two weeks.
When I run, I can feel myself laying aside the weight, which really are all my old ways of thinking, the part of me that I think is trapped, the part of me that I think I was fated to live the life I was living, the part of me that used to be scared to be anything more than who I was.
And sometimes, thinking about that lets me sprint even when I think I’m done running.
Because I feel light and free and unstoppable.
It’s often just for a minute.
But in that minute, I feel like I am flying.
One of the invitations I received as I was training for the half-marathon was to trust the Lord. And that was followed by an invitation to trust myself.
And I realized I had to.
Because He will not force any good thing upon me.
He will not force me to run to that finish line.
He will not force me to let go of my fears.
He will not force me to believe.
I have to want it.
And I have to trust that I am worthy of it, that I am capable of it, that I was meant for it.
Meant to run.
Meant to fly.
Meant to soar.
Because I was.
Laurel Christensen grew up in California, Kentucky and Missouri. She has a Bachelor of Science degree from Brigham Young University which she received after serving in the Riverside California Mission. She has spent most of her career at Deseret Book Company where she worked for several years as the Director of Entertainment, producing shows like The Forgotten Carols and launching and managing Jericho Road, among other artists. She is currently the Vice President of Product Development and also oversees the Time Out for Women program, spending many weekends on the road producing Time Out events. Laurel has a Masters degree in Communications Management and thinks it would be fun to someday be called “Professor”. She is the author of several talk CDs and books for young women.






