Boston

“It. Was. So. Much. Fun.”

That was the first response – with an emphatic, whimsical pause between each word – when I asked runners what the Boston Marathon was like. I started asking people several years before I had fully dedicated myself to the months of preparation ahead so I too could run Boston. I wanted to know what one of the most prestigious, challenging and demanding marathon courses in the world had in store for me.

I expected to hear about the hills on the course (the most famous one isn’t called “Heartbreak Hill” for nothing). I expected to hear about how much their legs hurt after enduring the race. I expected to hear about how terrible training through a Montana winter to be race-ready in April would be.

But no.

The initial and immediate response from the Boston veterans uplifted and encouraged me.

When I finally participated in the 2012 Boston Marathon, my legs screamed in pain because the hills were brutal, and the withering heat near 90 degrees made me wilt, and I ran my worst race since junior high.

And yet …

When people started asking me how the race went, I found myself echoing what I had heard from the other runners. Running through the midst of a 26.2 mile tailgate party, with thousands upon thousands of people cheering and encouraging you on, mile after mile, affects you like that. I think if I had smelled even a whiff of negativity when I first starting asking about Boston, I would have given up on the marathon idea, and therefore, would have missed out on pure joy in spite of all the difficulties.

It probably shouldn’t be surprising, then, that Jesus did not mention the potential troubles, pain, and suffering the disciples could be in for when He first asked them to follow Him. After all their time together, Jesus did not say “In this world you will have trouble” until His last day on earth (John 16:33).

Up to that point, the disciples had likely been a fearful mix of awe, wonder and amazement. But initially, “Follow me” probably sounded joyful, playful, and even whimsical, the same way runners told me about Boston.

So the next time we find ourselves answering questions or discussing our Christian faith, I think we should use some version of “It. Is. So. Much. Fun.” Because we shouldn’t want someone to miss out on all the fun.

How do you answer questions about your faith?