It’s not about me. That’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes.
This is our first month without beds. All six of us are cramped in a teeny tiny room, practically sleeping on top of each other. I’ve had a cough for two weeks straight because the air quality here is so unhealthy. Our main form of exercise is sprinting to the bathroom multiple times a day. Eating with one hand and no utensils seems like nothing compared to dealing with the inevitable effect the food has on our bodies. It’s difficult not to feel trapped in this house when we essentially can’t go anywhere besides up to the roof during the day and have to stay locked inside at night. We never know what the schedule is because it changes so frequently. Bucket showers and hand-washing our clothes are really the least of our problems.
For the most part, I try not to let things get to me, and I thank the Lord for the peace and the patience to be able to endure all things and be content in all circumstances. However, to be honest, I haven’t been handling it that well this time around.
Maybe it’s because it’s month 7, and the Race has only been getting progressively more difficult. Or maybe it’s because I have my own set of expectations in my head of what is “fair” and what I “deserve.” Or maybe it’s because comparison is the thief of joy. Or maybe it’s because it’s so much easier to do and say what I want, even if it’s not honoring to God or the people around me.
Despite whatever reasoning I can come up with to try to justify my actions, it all comes down to this: it’s really freaking challenging to die to myself. Dying to myself didn’t start with the Race and it doesn’t end with the Race. It’s a process that began at my salvation and will continue until the day I die. And no, this doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to just be miserable all the time. It means using wisdom and discernment to ultimately choose what is best for you, even if it’s contrary to what you desire.
“My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” -Galatians 2:20
I’ve given myself the space to feel what I’m feeling, but now I have a choice. I can either sit in that, or I can choose to trust that God is working all things for good in this situation. I want to live for Christ. I want to do better. It’s not easy, but it is so worth it. And I’m so thankful for the grace that God gives me in the midst of my mess. He’s creating something so beautiful from these ashes. Life to the fullest is found in Him, and that’s what I can put my hope in.
-Catherine 🙂
