let us run
"Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us..." Hebrews 12:1
This verse came alive as I sweated through my first 5K this weekend. Tears stung my eyes as I ran for Vision of Hope, thinking about the women who are fighting for freedom from sin and its hold on their lives.
Watching my sister personally run her own race of life has been so painful to my heart over the past 12 years. Her journey has had its many mountains and valleys, treatment centers and ICU's, defeats of fear and doubt, victories of courage and faith.
So at first I'm crying with memories of her in moments of weakness, pain, spiritual lows, so close to defeat. But then crying with joy of hope - not just at VOH - Hope for God's plan for her life, now AND in eternity.
Then, HE started to speak. Mostly in the thoughts that came into my mind. I was running (on adrenaline and worship music) faster than my normal, comfortable, preferred pace; and before even the first mile marker, I was ready to walk.
My music keeps me going.
Rise Up, rise Up
When this life has got you down
You've got to
Look up, look up
When you search and nothing's found
My eyes have seen the glory
Of the love that's here and now
It's coming down
So rise up now
(Rise Up by Matt Maher)
But the music stops. Waiting for the next song feels like an eternity.
And just like God's presence in my life, when He is speaking loud, when my pace is in sync with Him, it is easier to press on...but when that music stops, in the silence, in the waiting, when He seems so far away, I have the deepest urge to walk. To stop running the race, even for a moment, because I just don't think I can take another step.
But if I can just press on for that moment. For that silent, lonely, doubtful moment. Small in reality, but seeming so long at the time. If I can get through it with the hope that the next song will come in time, it will come. And I will run in pace with the next song, the next encounter with God and feel like I can keep pressing on.
Mile 2. I'm still tired. I know I need to walk. Feeling dizzy. It's really important that I walk. I feel guilty. I really wanted to run this whole thing. Not walk at all. Not falter, fail, show weakness, ask for help. I wanted to do this fully.
But I know that if I don't, I might not finish. I might be so faint or discouraged, that if I don't ask for help, take a break, slow down, I may no longer be in the race. I may not keep the faith.
Then I realize that it's okay to walk. It's okay to ask for help. Show a moment of weakness, even to bystanders. Definitely more comfortable to walk when the runners and workers are not around, but I am not walking because I want to. I'm walking because I NEED to. My body is telling me I need to. I am actually thankful for the warning signs. If I wasn't aware of the signs, I might not have known that I needed it, and it would have been too late.
Once I come to the reality that I need the break, and I take it, I also realize that as much as I need it for a moment, I cannot stay there. It's okay to ask for help, to show weakness. But DO NOT dwell in it. Do not make it a lifestyle. I would never finish the race with a good time if I continued to walk at this pace.
The walk was good. It wasn't really what I WANTED, but it gave me enough to start again and keep going to my goal. As I'm running again, I see a lady in front of me. She looks just like my mentor, who just told me that she was NOT a runner. I definitely saw her instead of the lady runner. She was quite a ways ahead of me. I admired her steadiness, her speed. Much older and obviously more experienced. She had run many of these before. She stayed in front of me the whole time and kept me going many of the times I felt like walking. Much like she does in my spiritual life, she spurred me on. I kept my eyes on her and listened to truth in my headphones when I couldn't see the finish yet. I knew she would get there before me, but I was able to see her and follow her lead.
There were others. Other runners, of course. Some passing me, some being passed. Some walked, like me. I should have encouraged them. Wasn't I just there? At the walking stage because I just couldn't go on, one more step? Embarrassed if someone saw me or passed me? Wasn't I longing for the break, but longing even more for something to spur me on? Encouragement to get me through the silence? I was so focused on MY run. My race. When we were all in it together. All for the same goal. Same cause.
There were also the volunteers, directing us in the direction of the course. These people to my spiritual life are pastors, teachers, seasoned godly friends, Christian authors, and mentors I've had throughout my whole life. They not only cheered for me, they pointed me to the finish, although on the many turns along the way, I had to trust them because I could only see as far as the next turn. I couldn't see the finish line with my own eyes, and I did not know the course in front of me. They showed me the way and encouraged me, served me water, and were a major part of my run that race.
I'm close to the finish. Half a mile away. I run under a tree and from a morning rain, the branches shower me with rain water. Now, in normal circumstances, this is not viewed as a pleasant thing. It's uncomfortable. It's cold. I would much rather shade than sprinkles. Those sprinkles may seem like suffering. Like uncomfortable circumstances. But God used it to refresh me. I saw it as a shower of His presence this time, instead of affliction. God uses suffering, pain, discomfort to get me one step closer to the finish.
Ok so...I'm getting close to the end. Really close. 0.2 miles left. I know I'm almost there. I turn the bend. I can see it. The finish line is so close. I want to finish. I want to finish strong. I still have some gas left in the tank. I sprint. My legs are burning, but I sprint. I took an earbud out of one ear to hear them. They are screaming. Yelling. Cheering for me. Some of them don't even know me in this life. Yet they know how hard it was. How hard I am working to get there. They know the end result and the goal. They know the cause. It's Jesus. It's His Work. He is the reason we are running this race. Those who will be waiting for me...they will be cheering. Just celebrating the finish.
To me, He is the Timer. He knows just how fast I finished. He also knows my pace. He knows my walking. He knows my weaknesses. But he knows I got back up and kept going. He will tell me my time. He might even tell me the times I could have and should have encouraged the walker. Thanked the guide. Gave Him the credit for the rain. But I hope...and believe...that He will see my perseverance. Because of Christ, He will see those moments of faith and passion and endurance, and He will say "You made it. Well done, faithful runner."
After I finish, I am thinking about the race. About how I got here. All of these truths are coming even more real. I don't want to forget them. I share them with others. I hear my time. I not only finished, but I finished within my goal time. 29:38. I really can't believe it. I look at my app's record of my run. The pace I was running was much faster than what I had trained at. My fastest portion was the first mile. I realize that although I had to walk, I was pushed at the beginning, by the front of the pack, by emotions and adrenaline of participating in a real 5K. I realized that if I had not run as fast as I had in the beginning, even without walking later, I would not have finished under 30 minutes at my normal, practiced pace. This really meant a lot to me in my spiritual life. I have had such a great Christian foundation. In my family, in my education, in my relationships, all starting at the beginning. I know that this has prepared my walk with the Lord, given me a foundation, a boost, to help me get to that eternal finish line, to get through the silent times, to brave the walks, even to need them, all purposing to get me to the finish and to look to Him, fight for Him the whole way.
Another song that I had on my playlist made me cry and press on.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IExdrZGQVeI
Christ Is Risen
Matt Maher
Let no one caught in sin remain
Inside the lie of inward shame
We fix our eyes upon the cross
And run to him who showed great love
And bled for us
Freely you bled, for us
Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake!
Come and rise up from the grave!
This is my prayer for Sarah and for all the women like her at Vision of Hope and all over the world. Come awake. Rise Up. Don't stay in that dark place. He is waiting. Calling. Ready to show you His unending Love. Fix your eyes on that Finish Line. Run to Him. And never look back.
This was not just a 5K. It was a spiritual journey for me. A way to keep pressing on. And a way to encourage others in their race for hope. True Hope.
This verse came alive as I sweated through my first 5K this weekend. Tears stung my eyes as I ran for Vision of Hope, thinking about the women who are fighting for freedom from sin and its hold on their lives.
Watching my sister personally run her own race of life has been so painful to my heart over the past 12 years. Her journey has had its many mountains and valleys, treatment centers and ICU's, defeats of fear and doubt, victories of courage and faith.
So at first I'm crying with memories of her in moments of weakness, pain, spiritual lows, so close to defeat. But then crying with joy of hope - not just at VOH - Hope for God's plan for her life, now AND in eternity.
Then, HE started to speak. Mostly in the thoughts that came into my mind. I was running (on adrenaline and worship music) faster than my normal, comfortable, preferred pace; and before even the first mile marker, I was ready to walk.
My music keeps me going.
Rise Up, rise Up
When this life has got you down
You've got to
Look up, look up
When you search and nothing's found
My eyes have seen the glory
Of the love that's here and now
It's coming down
So rise up now
(Rise Up by Matt Maher)
But the music stops. Waiting for the next song feels like an eternity.
And just like God's presence in my life, when He is speaking loud, when my pace is in sync with Him, it is easier to press on...but when that music stops, in the silence, in the waiting, when He seems so far away, I have the deepest urge to walk. To stop running the race, even for a moment, because I just don't think I can take another step.
But if I can just press on for that moment. For that silent, lonely, doubtful moment. Small in reality, but seeming so long at the time. If I can get through it with the hope that the next song will come in time, it will come. And I will run in pace with the next song, the next encounter with God and feel like I can keep pressing on.
Mile 2. I'm still tired. I know I need to walk. Feeling dizzy. It's really important that I walk. I feel guilty. I really wanted to run this whole thing. Not walk at all. Not falter, fail, show weakness, ask for help. I wanted to do this fully.
But I know that if I don't, I might not finish. I might be so faint or discouraged, that if I don't ask for help, take a break, slow down, I may no longer be in the race. I may not keep the faith.
Then I realize that it's okay to walk. It's okay to ask for help. Show a moment of weakness, even to bystanders. Definitely more comfortable to walk when the runners and workers are not around, but I am not walking because I want to. I'm walking because I NEED to. My body is telling me I need to. I am actually thankful for the warning signs. If I wasn't aware of the signs, I might not have known that I needed it, and it would have been too late.
Once I come to the reality that I need the break, and I take it, I also realize that as much as I need it for a moment, I cannot stay there. It's okay to ask for help, to show weakness. But DO NOT dwell in it. Do not make it a lifestyle. I would never finish the race with a good time if I continued to walk at this pace.
The walk was good. It wasn't really what I WANTED, but it gave me enough to start again and keep going to my goal. As I'm running again, I see a lady in front of me. She looks just like my mentor, who just told me that she was NOT a runner. I definitely saw her instead of the lady runner. She was quite a ways ahead of me. I admired her steadiness, her speed. Much older and obviously more experienced. She had run many of these before. She stayed in front of me the whole time and kept me going many of the times I felt like walking. Much like she does in my spiritual life, she spurred me on. I kept my eyes on her and listened to truth in my headphones when I couldn't see the finish yet. I knew she would get there before me, but I was able to see her and follow her lead.
There were others. Other runners, of course. Some passing me, some being passed. Some walked, like me. I should have encouraged them. Wasn't I just there? At the walking stage because I just couldn't go on, one more step? Embarrassed if someone saw me or passed me? Wasn't I longing for the break, but longing even more for something to spur me on? Encouragement to get me through the silence? I was so focused on MY run. My race. When we were all in it together. All for the same goal. Same cause.
There were also the volunteers, directing us in the direction of the course. These people to my spiritual life are pastors, teachers, seasoned godly friends, Christian authors, and mentors I've had throughout my whole life. They not only cheered for me, they pointed me to the finish, although on the many turns along the way, I had to trust them because I could only see as far as the next turn. I couldn't see the finish line with my own eyes, and I did not know the course in front of me. They showed me the way and encouraged me, served me water, and were a major part of my run that race.
I'm close to the finish. Half a mile away. I run under a tree and from a morning rain, the branches shower me with rain water. Now, in normal circumstances, this is not viewed as a pleasant thing. It's uncomfortable. It's cold. I would much rather shade than sprinkles. Those sprinkles may seem like suffering. Like uncomfortable circumstances. But God used it to refresh me. I saw it as a shower of His presence this time, instead of affliction. God uses suffering, pain, discomfort to get me one step closer to the finish.
Ok so...I'm getting close to the end. Really close. 0.2 miles left. I know I'm almost there. I turn the bend. I can see it. The finish line is so close. I want to finish. I want to finish strong. I still have some gas left in the tank. I sprint. My legs are burning, but I sprint. I took an earbud out of one ear to hear them. They are screaming. Yelling. Cheering for me. Some of them don't even know me in this life. Yet they know how hard it was. How hard I am working to get there. They know the end result and the goal. They know the cause. It's Jesus. It's His Work. He is the reason we are running this race. Those who will be waiting for me...they will be cheering. Just celebrating the finish.
To me, He is the Timer. He knows just how fast I finished. He also knows my pace. He knows my walking. He knows my weaknesses. But he knows I got back up and kept going. He will tell me my time. He might even tell me the times I could have and should have encouraged the walker. Thanked the guide. Gave Him the credit for the rain. But I hope...and believe...that He will see my perseverance. Because of Christ, He will see those moments of faith and passion and endurance, and He will say "You made it. Well done, faithful runner."
After I finish, I am thinking about the race. About how I got here. All of these truths are coming even more real. I don't want to forget them. I share them with others. I hear my time. I not only finished, but I finished within my goal time. 29:38. I really can't believe it. I look at my app's record of my run. The pace I was running was much faster than what I had trained at. My fastest portion was the first mile. I realize that although I had to walk, I was pushed at the beginning, by the front of the pack, by emotions and adrenaline of participating in a real 5K. I realized that if I had not run as fast as I had in the beginning, even without walking later, I would not have finished under 30 minutes at my normal, practiced pace. This really meant a lot to me in my spiritual life. I have had such a great Christian foundation. In my family, in my education, in my relationships, all starting at the beginning. I know that this has prepared my walk with the Lord, given me a foundation, a boost, to help me get to that eternal finish line, to get through the silent times, to brave the walks, even to need them, all purposing to get me to the finish and to look to Him, fight for Him the whole way.
Another song that I had on my playlist made me cry and press on.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IExdrZGQVeI
Christ Is Risen
Matt Maher
Let no one caught in sin remain
Inside the lie of inward shame
We fix our eyes upon the cross
And run to him who showed great love
And bled for us
Freely you bled, for us
Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake!
Come and rise up from the grave!
This is my prayer for Sarah and for all the women like her at Vision of Hope and all over the world. Come awake. Rise Up. Don't stay in that dark place. He is waiting. Calling. Ready to show you His unending Love. Fix your eyes on that Finish Line. Run to Him. And never look back.
This was not just a 5K. It was a spiritual journey for me. A way to keep pressing on. And a way to encourage others in their race for hope. True Hope.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race I have kept the faith . Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day--and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.
2 Timothy 4:7-8
Read more about Vision of Hope at http://www.faithlafayette.org/voh/about_voh/
Love love love. Thank you for sharing this!! You may have inspired me to run a 5k for my spiritual growth!! (Robyn)
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