I went on a walk in the park today.
You know, life is funny. Sometimes we get into this place
where the Lord reminds us of where we were—wanting to pull from and remind you
of that beauty, asking you to bring the fruit of that season into the next one
to come.
I used to run cross country: a little bit as a young kid,
for a year in high school and then one last year in college. The college bit
was hilarious—a friend (who I had run with during the previous year) had
forced, *ahem, asked me to join, then promptly quit. I had not run on my own all
summer (I lived where it was freakin’ hot…okay, that’s just a bad excuse) and I
was the slowest girl on the team. Turned out, I was not only the slowest on my
team, but also the slowest of all the runners in college. We went to a Division
I race out in Standford—the first race I was able to run for my team—and I was
cart girl.
Yes. Cart girl.
Let me define cart girl for you, as I can see the blank
expression invading your face. A cart girl is the one who is followed by the
golf cart, because she is dead last.
Dead…last…really really really…the absolute last one out of
hundreds.
For some reason though, I am not at all ashamed of being the
loser. I know I wasn’t built for running (the area where I excelled—literally—was
the 100 meter). But there is something about cross country running…just the joy
of being in the race. Even if I was last, I was the last out of the best
runners in our state. I was in the presence (well, at least inhaling the dust
of…) the Greats.
That’s a big deal.
Let me be in the race, even if I am the least of all,
because at least I’m in the race. That’s a lot more than some people ever get
to do. J
At the park today, I was spending time just being with the
Lord, out in His beautiful green cathedral. All of a sudden, a big yellow bus
pulls up and I remembered—it’s cross country season. The leaves are changing,
the air is getting cooler and its time to run…
It’s time to run…
I have been on my own now, struggling to keep the ground I
gain, for the past several years. There are those who have come alongside me (I
am so thankful for their presence) who dropped in and asked me to share how I
was doing, prayed with me…but they had to keep moving, running their section of
the race. There was no true team running beside me, in the same direction,
holding me up.
I believe—no, I know—that the Lord used that season to draw
me into His arms, to teach me the truth of desperate love that will never leave
you. He pulled me close to speak identity, heal wounds, make straight that
which had gone crooked. I saw a picture of it today in a crippled robin. This
robin was hopping around on one leg—the other leg was twisted and bent so that
it couldn’t use it. It didn’t even look like a leg. I was that robin at one time,
it was a picture for me. He won’t launch you to fly until you’re healthy enough
to land. He heals so that you can display His life-saving work—and life—through
you. So, in the Lord’s forever bent backward sense of logic: He created a
phenomenal time of healing for me in the midst of much trauma. He knew I
couldn’t fly forward or show who He truly was until He walked me through this
season of His deep work being done in me. I thank Him every day for His love
and devotion to me during that season—the joy of being His because I had
nothing left—it’s a crazy place to be, but He chooses to be with us there—and
it’s enough.
And now…the seasons change…
The runners come forth—each has trained—possibly for
months—for this time when they come together to show forth their strength
together. You know, a cross country team has a very unique dynamic, especially
as it comes to the point system, the way you win. It’s set up so that each
member of the team is desperately needed and definitely important—whatever
place you end up in, is the score you get. If I came in 20th, I got
twenty points added to my team score. In this way, they define the success of
one another because you add together the points to come up with the overall
score—the ones with the lowest score being the winning team. So, say my team is
phenomenal and we get respective scores of 1, 3, 8, 12 and 20: a total score of
44! But, conversely, if you do badly, your team does badly. So, their goal is
to keep you encouraged—no matter what place you are in—so that you don’t give
up and keep pressing forward.
It’s a phenomenal thing, being part of a team and the Lord is
pulling me back into that dynamic as I move forward into YWAM. Learning how to
be there for one another, putting their needs above your own (while maintaining
your source—your relationship with the Father—without that, you have nothing to
give—and I mean nothing), seeing just how far we can go together and
encouraging each other—we don’t know when or where this will end—we must make
the most of the time for as long as we are able.
It’s a beautiful thing to be back in the race, to know that
your voice is heard by others and they are in this for the long haul. I am
praying into being a healthy, joyful part of my team—letting the Lord work in
and through me so that His love will be drastically felt! Haha, not dramatic at
all here! But it’s exciting—to know that the new season is coming, teamwork,
hope and joy…joy, even though there is much self discipline and stripping off
of layers (sin, mindsets, whatever it may be that keeps us from running the
race) so that we can move forward completely confident in Him.
To the race…
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