I’m not going to make it

Ahead of me, the colonel continued his merciless pace.  I was running with my head down, unable to concentrate, unable to notice anything that was around me.  After a mile and a half or so, I noticed I was running next to one of the best guys I’ve ever known.

My response to this was, of course, to start complaining.  As I gasped for breath, I said things like, “killer pace,” and, “I can’t breathe.”  Finally summing up my situation by saying, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.  I suck at running.  I’m never going to be as fast as other people.  I can’t do this.”

Now my unit had around a hundred people in it.  The battalion had around 400 people. This was a brigade run.  I don’t know how many people were running together at the start but it was a lot.

“Look behind you, Matt.”  That was all he said.

When running with your unit, you basically see the back of the man in front of you.  If someone falls out, you move up to the person that was in front of him.  I saw before me two rows of people, about eight to ten guys.  The colonel was gasping for air, sweat pouring off of him.

When I looked behind, I saw no one.

“Don’t quit,” he said.

Anybody struggling with addiction?  Is there anybody whose marriage seems to get no better?  Is there anyone who thinks they will never be a good christian, a good father or mother, a decent human being?

You may think you’re not going to make it.  You may think that everyone is doing better than you.

Just don’t quit.  You’re doing just fine.

Busy, Busy, Busy

Once again, life has gotten crazy, money is tight, my little world is turned on its ear.  I haven’t been able to write.  Haven’t been able to think.  Haven’t been able to breathe.

All this feels so wrong.  I keep thinking of the song by the Indigo Girls (they were popular for a short time in the late 80’s, early 90’s).

“My place is of the sun and this place is of the dark.  I do not feel the romance.  I do not catch the spark.  And I will not be a pawn for the prince of darkness any longer.”

Yeah, the emotional rollercoaster artsy people ride every day.

That’s the trouble with being busy.  We get caught in the whirlwind of activity and everything spins out of control.  We snatch and grab, trying to find some purchase, some toehold where we can gain some sense of control, some sense that life will not always be so difficult.

And being busy can medicate us too.  It can numb the pain of damaged relationships, latent wounds that lie festering in our hearts.  But it’s like taking tylenol for an aneurism.  We realize that we can’t pull it down, it won’t come under our control.  It isn’t, our life IS NOT ours to own, to rule.

So on my knees, I come to You, Lord.  I’m Yours.  You rule.  I rest. 

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