The Climb

As I heard the door slam this morning, I knew it had to be about 5:45 a.m. without even looking the clock. That's about the time Nick leaves so that he can make it to work by 6. I wanted nothing more than to throw the covers over my head and roll over, but I knew that if I did, I would be extremely angry with myself. So, by 6:15, I was out of the gravel, threading my ear buds through my shirt and hitting "reset" on my watch. It was time.

Saturdays are usually my long run days. It's the day on which I extend my mileage if I want to challenge myself. This particular Saturday was an important one because in all likelihood, it was going to be the last long run of the summer.

To explain, on Tuesday, I officially go back to work, which essentially means that my personal life and pursuits come to an end for the next nine months. Teaching, at least for me, is very intensive. It means early mornings, full afternoons, and evenings full of either sporting events, concerts, paperwork, or planning. Getting a run in will now become a challenge, and long runs will be an impossibility (as will scrapbooking, reading for fun, and using the restroom without obeying a bell). So far this summer, my longest run had been six miles. Today, I was going to up the ante and go for a personal best: eight miles.

Why eight? Adding two miles would be a challenge but could still be achieved. Likewise, eight miles would be the exact mileage from our house around the lake and back again. I had no particular time in mind; I just wanted to finish without walking.

All went well until I hit mile seven; I fully expected that the last two miles would be the true challenge. The sun was up, and the formidable presence of the heat and humidity was full in my face. Still, as I rounded the corner by the fairgrounds, I pressed on, reminding myself that I had two miles to go. I had already done five, two more was completely do-able.

As transitioned to the last mile, the situation intensified. The heat and humidity were even more oppressive, my feet suddenly felt like cement bricks, and worst of all, I had to scale a serious hill. I have no idea the grade, but I do know that this hill progressively rises for a 1/3 to a 1/2 mile. In short, this hill was going to make or break me.

With that in mind, I slowed my pace. I am already a seriously putzy runner, but my slowed pace probably resembled a brisk walking pace to the average observer. I didn't care; it was still running, and that's all the mattered to me. In considering what I had already accomplished for the day, it would have been completely acceptable to walk up the hill, but it was not acceptable to me.

As I began the climb and looked ahead to the top of the hill, I was instantly overwhelmed and faltered a bit. Since Mile 7, some serious self-talk had motivated me to keep going; now, I wasn't so sure.

Discouraged, I looked down at the paved path. I noticed that someone had finally cut the grass so that sprigs of straw were strewn on the path. The path wasn't covered, but the wind had thrown a few errant pieces here and there.

In order to distract myself from the hill, I trained my focus on the grass. I picked one piece of grass and ran toward it. When I reached that piece, I looked a few feet ahead and picked another to focus on and ran toward it.

If ever I looked up ahead to see how far I was from the crest of the hill, I was instantly overwhelmed and frustrated, so after learning my lesson quickly, I just kept my eyes on the pavement, playing connect the dots with pieces of grass.

Even as I was making my way up the hill (and I swear this is true), I found myself thinking about Francis Chan's book, Forgotten God. One area of anxiety for many people (including me) is knowing and following God's Will. Since we are each given particular talents and gifts and are here in this moment in history for a reason, we feel pressure to seek and fulfill His purpose for our lives.

Chan, however, suggests that knowing the full and whole picture at once is not productive or conducive to growth. "It is easy to use the phrase 'God's will for my life' as an excuse for inaction or even disobedience. ... My hope is that instead of searching for 'God's will for my life' each of us would learn to seek hard after 'the Spirit's leading in my life today.' May we learn to pray for an open and willing heart, to surrender to the Spirit's leading with that friend, child, spouse, circumstance, or decision in our lives right now.”

He continues by saying, “It's much less demanding to think about God's will for your future than it is to ask Him what He wants you to do in the next ten minutes.”

What God really wants is for us to train our ears to His voice so that we do exactly what He asks us to do at the moment He wants us to do it. The result of our obedience will BE the fulfillment of God's Will for our lives.

In essence, focusing on His voice and doing what He asks is like following the straw on the path. As I reached one piece and conquered the distance, my eyes focused on a new piece. As I surpassed each piece of straw, I gained confidence and satisfaction in achieving the smaller goal while ultimately conquering the overall challenge of cresting the large hill. Training my eyes on the hill in the distance would only have resulted in frustration and defeat.

Likewise, by doing what He asks me to do when He asks me to do it, I am doing His Will, and I am ultimately fulfilling His purpose for my life. I don't need to know the big picture; He already does. By demanding to see and know the whole thing, once again, I insist that I need to be in control, and therefore, I am only proving how spiritually immature and selfish I am. Obedience in the seemingly small things reaps joy and peace.

It's a win-win all the way around.

On a physical level, this philosophy was certainly proven today as it explains how I made it to the top of the hill. . . and how I managed to run 8 miles without stopping or walking. Undoubtedly, it will also prove to be true as I traverse the miles of hills and valleys in this race called life.

"And your ears will hear a word behind you, "This is the way, walk in it," whenever you turn to the right or to the left." Isaiah 30:21