Today I began my morning at 5:30. Yes, I know it sounds ambitious, especially after going to bed at 12:30 in the morning. The air was chilly and damp from the night’s rain. I laughed with Javan about memories we had from our first semester at Liberty.
Shortly afterwards, I cleaned my room, changed into workout clothes, and headed ff to the gym. I pay for it every year, so why not make the most of it? At the gym I ran the treadmill. I love the treadmill. I love to run. I’m not very fast, and my dedication to running is intermittent, but I never forget the freedom I have. I never forget how good it is to be able to move freely, to live, to breathe.
This morning I set the speed higher than usual. I was still going to run my usual two miles, yet at a different pace. The first mile went by pretty well. I finished it in just under thirteen minutes. The second mile, I increased the speed more, and finished in eleven minutes and eight seconds. All went well until I had finished half of the third lap. I became tired. And though I had been practicing breathing through my nose (it helps fill your lungs better) I was winded. I was tired. Even lifting my feet felt difficult. I kept running.
I began the fourth and final lap of the second mile. As soon as I saw the lap change from number three to number five, I felt I could not run the last lap. I was too tired. I would not–could not– survive it.
I kept running.
Okay. Let’s be honest here. I don’t look out of shape, but I’m certainly not in shape. I’m not a dedicated athlete, and I’m even less dedicated at getting physical exercise. Somehow I finished that mile.
But what about when it really counts? When you’re outside of the gym in this crazy race called life? Where is your dedication? How will you finish? Will you finish well?
Or better yet, the question is, will I finish well?
Yes, I know it’s not about doing. It’s about grace and things like that. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t try to be dedicated to God, that we can’t seek to please him, that we cna’t put away the old and put on the new. Yet so many times I find my dedication wane. Sometimes my bible reading is as faithful as my exercise routine. (What routine? you might ask).
I am thankful that God loves us as a father loves his children. I am thankful that God doesn’t look at me and say, “Oh no! Katie didn’t do her bible reading today–I guess I won’t guide her until she reads ten chapters a day to make up for it…” I am thankful that God will love me and guide me the same. But that still doesn’t mean I that I can’t finish well, that I can throw in the towel on the fourth lap.
Do you ever notice how you’re not really tired until you only have a little further to push? You’re not tired until the last lap, you’re not ready to quit until you cna see the finish line. God gives us a task, and when we’re near to completing His will, we give in. We let the Devil steal us away down a different road. We go to church and between the altar and the door, as Casting Crowns puts it, something happens.
This is what God is convicting me to do today. He is convicting me to try to push harder when even my breaths come in short gasps. He is convicting me to not give up, because He never gave up on me. I won’t be perfect. I’m bound to mess up. But th difference is whether I try or not. Whether I put up a fight against Satan, or I lay down and let his lies walk all over me. Which is more shameful–to fight and lose, or to lose, having never put up a fight at all? I write these things because ours is a journey that is different from the rest. The path is narrow and we all need encouragement. I know I need it.
