It's Too Stinkin Hard

It’s the hills that bring on the ‘stinkin thinkin.’ It’s the difficult, seemingly impossible parts of the trail that beg me to give in, give up, and collapse in utter defeat. The hubby decided we’d take a new route this morning and I am all about change, because I rapidly grow tired of my ordinary, dull surroundings. In the first 12 years of our marriage, we moved 12 times. The act of rounding up boxes (you’d think I would have learned to keep them around), packing, relocating, and unpacking was dreadful EACH AND EVERY TIME, but I always anticipated the change.

I’m not the type that has an hourly or even daily schedule. I don’t require order, I usually clean when I think someone might be stopping by, I wait until 6:00 or 7:00 (pm) to decide what’s for dinner (um, pizza?), and I leave clothes in the drying far too long. Ok, I do insist the towels are folded just so, but that’s about the extent of my OCD, on most days anyway. I’m not one to make a schedule, follow a schedule, or even desire a schedule. This may be the result of walking side by side with women who live by the schedule, trying to follow their wonderful example, failing time and again, only to drown in self condemnation.  Nope, I thrive on living for the moment and I welcome change because so many of my unplanned moments are just plain dull. And now I have digressed….

As we jogged away from the house and began a new course, I was slightly anxious about the unknown, yet excited about the change of pace. After only a few minutes, we began the difficult, slow trek up a dreaded hill. I try to avoid hills at all costs, yet here I was.  Thanks, hunny. Already the ‘stinkin thinking’ began its course; “I’m out of shape, I can’t do this hill.” “How far is he going to run?! I’ll never make it back home at this rate.” However, I countered with (insert something witty to counter stinkin thinkin) “This isn’t the worst hill ever.”“All I have to do is make it to the top.” And I could see the top! It wasn’t that far way and I rationalized that it must be downhill or at least level ground from there. And I was right. Well almost right. We did get an effortless, downhill breather, but it was short lived, as I glimpsed an even steeper, longer, more exaggerated hill just a few brief moments away. I was doomed. We had already gone two excruciating miles ascending the Myrtle Creek terrain, and I couldn’t fathom pushing myself even harder.

This was the moment of do or die. I envisioned myself sprawled out in defeat, flat on my back, attempting to suck in air, in the midst of a narrow, yet well traveled side road, being squashed by an oncoming car. I was forced to either let myself collapse, or push it even harder. So I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and pushed. Finally, we rounded the top of the hill, overcoming defeat, only to encounter yet another larger, steeper, impossible incline. In the end we pushed it all the way. We didn’t stop. We didn’t slow. We didn’t give in, or give up. Not until we made it back home. Ahhhhh, home! And the feeling of accomplishment and success.

Lately, I have been running, walking, no mostly crawling up hill after hill after hill. It seems that each hill I conquer offers only another steeper, harder, more impossible hill. And right now, forget the hills, I’m climbing a mountain and my fingers are slipping and I feel I’m about to fall headlong into the vast chasm of defeat. It seems hopeless, yet I continue pushing, clawing, grasping for anything that will help me reach the top of this impossible mount. Most days, the summit is beyond my scope of sight and my faith begins to diminish.  Some days I glimpse the coming peak, gaining confidence, and an ability not of myself. And once in a while I actually climb over that impossible mountain only to come face to face to an even larger, more unbearable mount, covered in thorns that scrape, bruise, and scar.

Even so, I thank God for each and every step. I thank Him that I can’t see the larger hills ahead which might only prevent me from climbing the one I’m currently ascending. I thank Him that He puts me in a place where I must rely on Him and His strength or be crushed in my own defeat. I thank Him that the summit ahead offers relief, even if for only a minute second. I thank Him that no matter how steep and rugged the mountain may be, I will overcome it because He already has. His strength is manifested in my weakness, and I am so weak! I want to give up. I want to turn around and walk off that hill. I want to! However, I must round peak after peak after peak after peak. I must push, grasp, and not give up. And right now I MUST NOT focus on the upcoming mountains. I know this one is preparing me for what I am not capable of accepting or climbing. His ways are perfect, His plans are flawless, and His sight is 20/20.

Lord, let my ways be Your ways. Let my plans be Your plans. Let my sight not hinder my faith. Strengthen me Lord, and help me to not give in or give up. Help me to trust You with my life, my children’s lives, my marriage, and our future. I thank You that I cannot see what is ahead and I beg you to get me through this season, victoriously.


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Coming Home

The war in Iraq is over and our soldiers are coming home. This is a day of celebration for the American People! For many, December 15, 2011 will forever be a day to remember, as loved ones are released from the threat of harm and death. For others, it will be a time mixed with joy and sorrow; a time of rejoicing for these families and soldiers, yet filled with great sadness because their soldier never made it home; their soldier is now a memory.

Their soldier will not be greeted with warm hugs, cries of joy, and tears of relief because their soldier was buried years ago, months ago, or maybe only days ago fighting a war for protection and peace.  For countless other American’s, today is simply another day. Although the war is all too real, the bloodshed unthinkably fatal, and the purpose of great worth, what the eyes have not seen, and the heart has not felt, the mind has not understood.

I ashamedly confess falling into this latter group of Americans. Maybe it’s because I have no loved ones serving and risking their lives in Iraq. Perhaps it is a result of steering clear of the horrific news reports of tragedy and death this war has caused. Whatever the reasoning, it is unwarranted and inexcusable. If you are reading this today and have lost a loved one, or spent months or even years anticipating your soldier’s return home, I ask your forgiveness for my unwillingness, for my lack of compassion, for my unfaithfulness to pray for your family and your warrior. I praise God your loved one was obedient to His calling and willing to risk his/her life for another. And I pray your soldier is coming home.

Unfortunately I have another confession. Just as my eyes did not see the war in Iraq and my heart did not feel for the soldiers in danger or the families in waiting, I have not actively understood the spiritual battle taking place every moment of every day. Yes, the battle is all too real, the bloodshed

unthinkably fatal, and the purpose of great worth, but my physical eyes have blinded my spiritual eyes. I have been a soldier unfit for battle. I have been a friend unsupportive to those who have given their lives to serve our God and His people. I go about my day unaware of the battle taking place in my heart, in my life, and in the lives of those around me. I get up each morning neglecting to put my armor on, neglecting to actively engage in the most real battle ever to be fought, and I am a soldier unprotected, unguarded, and completely defenseless.

Oh LORD God, I beg Your forgiveness for the heartlessness of my actions. I ask You to wipe away this selfishness in me that prevents me from seeing the reality of what is occurring on this physical earth and in the spiritual places. I KNOW we wrestle against powers and principalities. I KNOW I need my full armor to battle the fiery darts of the wicked one. You have been faithful to teach me these things, yet I have been unfaithful to walk in them. Please forgive me, Father. I rejoice today for the soldiers coming home. I praise You for the joy their families must feel! I ask You to pour out Your perfect peace upon those who have lost their brave warrior. God, I anticipate the day You proclaim “This war is over! My children are coming home!” I anxiously await my Perfect Father rejoicing over me, greeting me with warm, loving hugs . Please grant me eyes to see and a heart of compassion. Please forgive me and fill me with Your strength to finish strong and hold up the hands of others as they actively submit to Your calling in their lives. I thank You for Your faithfulness to this unfaithful soldier. In the mighty Name which is above all names, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.