While the funk has lifted and the pain has dulled a bit, I still am anxious to know how bad it was. I am so grateful that Brad helped me take my eyes off one "bend" in the race and put my focus back on the "finish line".
It reminded me of a race we both entered in Seattle several years ago. Brad is the runner; I am the wannabe runner. But I was fairly confident I could do this race. I was doing so well the first few miles, enjoying the cheers of the crowd as I jogged by - until I came to the on ramp to the Seattle viaduct. Not the lower deck of this ancient dual-level highway but the TOP level. The on ramp went from ground level to the second deck. And it was killing me. I HATE hills.
Reality check. "You are NOT doing as well as you thought you could. You are a failure. You thought more highly of yourself that you should have. You can't possibly finish." Who's voice was that anyway? Then came the suffocating tunnel. It: "Just quit!" Me: "Shut up!"
And you know what made all the difference? Knowing Brad was at the finish line already, straining to see me come into sight, ready to welcome me with gusto! And so taking my eyes off the failure and back onto the goal, I did slog my way to the finish line. And celebrate we did!
Hmm. Good analogy of Hebrews 12:1-3! Praise God he is waiting at the finish line!!
Back to Greek, determined to stay focused on the finish line.
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