the run of the mill hill

He catches you right before you fall. 

Have you ever run your last stretch of a long distance run uphill? Get this: you’ve slogged through mud and miles of path. You’ve passed or been passed by runners with the same goal in sight. Your legs are numb, all you can feel is a surround-sound of your heartbeat and ragged blue breath. Your tongue stopped existing by the 3rd mile and all you taste is your wind-torn throat and blood. You pay your fellow runners no mind, you can only see the world in a shaken martini motion with white dots of exhaustion everywhere.

At this point in running, I’ve always been so struck with how self-centered my thoughts are. Granted, my body is technically dying and all my soft suburban instincts are screaming: WHERE IS YOUR CAR? THE PURPOSE OF A CAR IS TO AVOID RUNNING.

Somewhere, inside, you have this mixture of rage and pride and exhilaration. This is flippin’ dumb. Why am I killing myself? Oh yeah: to win. That’s right. Mang– I love winning. You’re focused on just the place of rest, that ring of glory, your glory beyond this final, God-forsaken hill. 

You dig your toes in and pump your arms wildly. And run right into a hole in the ground.

Oh I forgot how hard we fall when we’re so focused on things other than Him. But with grace, He catches you before you fall. He’s been watching you slog around in this meaningless circle, doing it your own way. And He is that steady, understanding gaze that tracks every step of your journey. His eyes pierce through your haze. And He is the love behind those sturdy hands that brace you as you skid and roll down that hill. My ego shatters, my hope dashed, but His skin tears and dangles, His bones snap and gleam through His flesh. 

 

 

And how could i not moved? How could i stand before you and see Your torn body, Your brokenness that i am the cause of? Have Your way in me. What little i am, have all of me. I want my races to be Yours.