Life has a funny way of giving us reality checks. (see: re·al·i·ty – noun, “actual being or existence, as opposed to an imaginary, idealized, or false nature” or “the totality of real things in the world, independent of people’s knowledge or perception of them”, or my favorite, “something that has real existence and must be dealt with in real life”).My reality in this season of my life is this: I’m 40 years old. Yep, I’ve entered the fourth decade of my life, and I have to say, it’s had a profound affect on my “perspective” already. Maybe it’s the eventual surrender to the fact that my body will never again fit quite the same way into the blue jeans I wore in college. It seems there are changes in my physical person that are a frontal assault to the eternal youth that delightfully resides, unaltered, in my spirit. And I will never again know the weightless sweetness of being indebted to no man. Whether it’s the inevitability of paying taxes, church ministries I’ve accepted responsibility for, or relationships that entail nurturing and full involvement to thrive—I’m forced to come face to face with the very real fact: I will never again be “my own man”.
You see, I’ve lived quite the “life of Riley” in my young adult years. I’ve been single without children for most of my post-college career days. I’ve moved from the South to the West Coast to the East Coast, and back to the middle again. I’ve taken in a movie on a momentary whim…without any planning or preparation of any kind. I’ve had the luxury of sitting in Southern California’s rush hour nightmare, entertaining the idea of just how great a new outfit might look and feel…and taking the closest exit to make that idea a reality. All without any calls home to coordinate my late arrival or discussions about budget line item priorities or childcare. In short, I’ve spent the past twenty years of this life honing my skills as a Sprint Racer.
Oddly enough, this parallel came to me yesterday as I swam the final laps in my half-mile workout…in preparation for the triathlon a friend (now my husband) and I are conquering in September. Now, most of my friends and family at the hearing of this news are probably raising eyebrows in alarm or sheer astonishment…but the process of winding up at this place is worth explaining. Wanting to meet the daunting marker of my 40th birthday with courage and complete acceptance, I desired most to do something “significant”…something “unexpected”…something “BIG”. And the deciding factor came when I was whining to my friend about the aforementioned physical changes taking place…and how my shadow hadn’t crossed the threshold of a gym in six months...and how I was fed up with my lack of motivation. “Motivation?” he asked…”You need motivation?! Enter a triathlon…that’ll supply your motivation!”
So tapping into the spontaneous nature of my sprinter’s heart, I did it. Crazy or not, I signed up for a triathlon. But it wasn’t long into my first workout, that I began to think, “They want me to run HOW FAR?!?!” I have trouble running to the bathroom…let alone running THREE MILES!!! But what do you know, a few weeks into it and I was walking longer on the treadmill, lifting weights, and still feeling like I had energy to burn at the end of it all. Surprising how your body and mind can adjust so quickly.
The first time I got back into the pool, after a short thirty-year hiatus, the scene was pretty ugly. I get into the water thinking, “It’s like riding a bike, right?!” But about half way down the lane, something went terribly wrong. My body rebelled against my best intentions and highest goals…and I felt a panic washing over me with the sudden realization that no matter how much I breathed in, it simply was not enough. I needed more air…more AIR…MORE AIR!!! What was going on?!? For crying out loud, I’d done this before! I’d been a sprinter on the swim team in junior high…this should be easy. But every muscle in my body was screaming in pain…my lungs felt like they were exploding…my head was spinning and my vision blurred. And the voice in my head said,
“They want me to go HOW far?!? How sick ARE these people?! They’ve GOT to be kidding. There’s no way on earth!”Amazingly enough, within two weeks, I was swimming 36 links…a half a mile! Incredible. That first day, I had no hope of ever reaching that milestone…and the weeks that followed carried a growing concern that I didn’t have what it takes to meet the challenge…that I’m too weak, too frail…that it is just too late in the game to try a stunt like this. But with some digging down deep to find that courage that hides out in the deepest part of my heart, with some disciplined consistency, and with some much-needed encouragement from my friend in my weakest moments, yesterday I broke through a barrier of sorts that loomed in my head and heart like a thick stone wall. I had done what only two weeks before was unthinkable.
So there I was, victoriously swimming the last laps of my half-mile workout, and I began to hear my Father speak to my uncovered heart once again.
“Melody, you’ve been a sprinter for most of your life.”And as He showed me the unencumbered way in which I’d lived my life, I began to understand what He meant.
“You’ve done a great job of living in the moment…of burning bright and fast…of wringing the life-stuff out of every day. You’ve been busy, involved, connected. And wasn’t it you that only months ago said that you wanted to do something ‘significant’, ‘unexpected’ and ‘big’?”
“Yes Lord, that’s what I said I wanted…more than anything.”
“Well”, He said, “more than anything, what I want is to forge in you the heart of an endurance racer.”
“An endurance racer, Lord?” I asked with feelings of intrigue and sheer terror running through my heart.
“Yes, an endurance racer,” He said with the tenderness of a Father who’s in teaching mode.“You’ve been through days when you felt like you were going to drown before getting to the end of that lane, right?”As I pulled myself out of the pool that day, I felt an unexpected and overwhelming sense of new-found courage mixed with the savory sweetness of accomplishment. And although some of my family and friends would already like to think me crazy, I have to admit that I heard voices…the echoes of a cheering crowd somewhere in the far distance…and the all-familiar sound of my Father’s voice, shouting,
“You mean when I was struggling financially, and…”
“You’ve tried to run the race of life, huffing and puffing like a fish that’s been thrown up on shore, right?”
“You mean when I moved and everything seemed so foreign, so out of sync…”
“You’ve had to bear up under the heat, push through the pain, and do it when you just felt like giving up altogether.”
“You mean when I went through the unexpected divorce…”
“You see, this race you’ve entered…this triathlon…is much like this life you’re a part of. There are different tasks you will be asked to complete…each one challenging in it’s own way. There are external influences that will come against your progress…causing you to tire and lose heart. There will be highs and lows, joys and sorrows. There will be days when you break down walls, and days when you will be broken.”
“So now is the time to prepare…now is the time to draw from what you know and put it into action…now is the time to build up your endurance. Be strong and courageous when the challenge seems bigger than the hope that’s in your heart. Be gentle with yourself…and pace yourself. Don’t forget to rest, do things that inspire your heart and soul…and just like your Momma always said, don’t forget to eat your vegetables. Because how you handle yourself now directly affects your performance later. But more important than anything else, Melody, you must finish the race. You must not give up…you must not lose heart…you must not quit. The race will not be finished today…the race will not be finished tomorrow, or next week. But one day, you will most certainly taste the indescribable joy of crossing that finish line. And know this: I will be waiting right there for you…cheering you on. Waiting to celebrate your efforts of a race well run…the victory of spirit over flesh…the final defeat of the one who whispers, “You don’t have what it takes to meet the challenge…you’re too weak, too frail…it’s just too late in the game to even try.”
“THAT’S my girl!”
1 Corinthians 9:23-25: “I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”
Romans 15:4: “For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” Hebrews 12:1-2: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
Charlie Hall, “God of Hope”: “Your hope inspires my endurance/God of hope fill me up/Your hope is my anchor/And though you slay me I will hope/Your hope inspires my endurance…”
