I came to the end of my rope today.
When I trained for my marathon in October of 2014, people warned me that I might hit a “wall” at some point during the race. I thought that “wall” would be my physical body complaining to me: “I just don’t have the energy to go on!” But when the day came and I hit mile 16, I realized what they meant. It wasn’t a physical energy wall at all. It was an emotional wall, a mental wall. I. just. didn’t. want. to. be. running. any. more. That’s when the tears came. That’s when my self-motivation ended. That’s when I desperately searched for a familiar face to cheer me on.
As we neared the end of Month 3 of this race, I hit my mental wall. We were warned this would happen. When you abandon all the comforts of home, you come face-to-face with your inadequacies and brokenness.
Real sobs came from my stomach as I lay flat on the basketball court. The wind blew chillier than expected, and we were all donning sweaters happily (you don’t have the chance to do that too often on the race) – but the sweater came later for me. Right then, I lay in my nicest dress, sprawled out on the warm cement, staring up at the clouds rolling in as the tears rolled down my face. I. am. Done. Three months in! and I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be around six people all the time anymore. I need intentional one-on-one time. I need someone to pursue me and pour into me, and maybe write me an encouraging note. If someone gave me chocolate, that wouldn’t be so bad, either.
I literally had no self-motivation left in me. I had been doing “good” all month, disciplining myself to get up early, to fast, even stay up all night to spend time with You, God, but now – I can’t! I’ve got nothing left.
I stared up at the sky, knowing my teammates were getting ready for team time. Uhhh. I was at the end of my desire to do the right thing.
Right at that moment, I noticed a big fluffly cloud, directly above me, floating on in the shape of a huge heart. God’s love.
Okay… I grunted. Thanks for that reminder. Your love is still with me.
I sat up on the court and walked a few steps toward the kitchen, then dropped to my knees again. God, I can’t. I’ve got nothing left.
My teammates emerged from the kitchen and spotted me across the property: “Anna Sophia!” I waved and heard Bee say, “Let’s do team time by the basketball court!”
Praise the Lord. Cause I didn’t want to move.
They came – bearing chocolate! For Bee’s team time, she had made “mud pies” – childhood flashback complete with crushed-up oreos and gummy worms (well, actually, they were gummy bears, and still delicious). “That’s all we’re doing for team time today!” She said, brightly. Thank you again, Father! Cause I wasn’t in the mood for a lot of conversation.
“Oh, and since this is possibly our last week as a team [team changes are happening in Month 4], I wrote letters for each one of you,” She continued.
Chocolate. Pursuing. A note of encouragement.
My Shepherd cares. He really cares.
