Why I Hate Running and What I'm Running From:

Hebrews 12:1-2
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.

There's nothing I despise more than running.  It takes so much out of me.  Energy.  Strength.  Motivation.  But that's what I've been doing lately.  This time, I'm not talking about physical running.  I'm talking about emotional...and spiritual running.  

To put it vaguely, I've been going through a difficult time in my life.  God has blessed me with so much, and the roots of those blessings run so deep in my life- but the stems of those blessings have began to blossom into pain, suffering, and stress.  The seeds must fall in order for the fruit to be birthed.  I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces much fruit (John 12:24).

I'm waiting for that fruit.  Having to remind myself that it is actually rooted in blessings, though some days blessing is the last thing I feel.  Some days, I just feel crushed.  Pressed.  Persecuted.  And struck down.  

For a moment, I thought the seeds had fallen...I thought it was time to harvest, to taste, to enjoy the fruit.  But I was wrong.  The season is not yet over.  

It's like I was running a marathon, headed toward the finish line, desperate to get to the end.  And when I reached the finish line, I turned the corner and realized that I still had 5 miles to run...

The end would come.  But it was not yet.  

Sometimes, this thought can be more devastating than encouraging.  Sometimes, your body and your soul and your mind just want to get to the end, and you aren't sure if you have the strength to make it through to the finish line. You just don't know if you have what it takes.  Just ask me a few weeks ago, and I, too, didn't think I could.  

But here I am...am still running...

More than anything, I'm thankful that this race I'm running isn't about me, and the strength that I am running with has nothing to do with myself.  I'm thankful that when I am weak and my faith is imperfect, I can fix my eyes on the one who perfects my faith.  I'm thankful that the race has an end, it's not as short as I want it to be, and it's not as straight- but it's a race that was made just for me.  It was marked out for me.  It is mine.  For a reason.   Though I don't always know what that reason is, one thing I do know:

It refines me.  It stretches me.  It teaches me.  It perfects me.  

As much as I hate running...and trust me, I really despise it...I'm learning to be thankful in this race.  I'm learning to run the race marked out for me, and to fix my eyes on Jesus each and every step of the way.  

5 miles to go.  I'm running from fear, doubt, worry, and pain.  And instead, I'm running to Jesus. 

The finish line is in sight.  I'm hopeful that I'll push through and get there.  

May you, dear one, keep running, too.