I was in the best shape of my life in 2020, in spite of the turmoil of the world. I controlled what I could control, which was my health and fitness and my commitments to my family. Despite the uncertainty in the world, I remained certain of two things - I loved my family, and I was in charge of my health.
But a stupid momentary step on a trail 4 miles into a 10-mile training run derailed everything I had gained that year. I went from badass shape 8 weeks from a marathon, where if the weather was right I would be able to run a 3:45 and qualify for Boston again....to broken and defeated in a blink. I couldn't take care of myself anymore.
What followed was a grueling year where not only did I have to start over physically, but I lost myself emotionally. I was not the same person before that misstep in October of 2020. I was broken in every sense of the word. What continued to follow was more emotional turmoil than I can even now fathom.
I put on a brave face....but I wasn't who God created me to be. I was lost.
Over the course of the last two years, I have gone from the bottom to a renewal. I'm still a work in progress, and I always will be in this sinful world, but I am once again a child of God, fully in awe of Him. I discovered something really powerful in my despair - hope is found in my faith. Hope is found in my surrender. Hope is found in giving it up to God's will. Hope will never be found in me alone. As soon as I was able to truly understand that I was not in control, my perspective shifted.
It didn't take away the pain I was feeling, but it did give me a way through that pain.
I'm currently in recovery from yet another physical setback, this time a ruptured lumbar disc. While I have made vast improvements and am thankful I can run again, I am still acutely aware that I am not healed. When I first got the diagnosis, I was obviously devastated. For the third time in three years, I was sidelined from doing what I love. I was forced into uncertainty. On top of that, I was about to turn 50. It's not a big deal to be 50, but for one of the first times ever, I was being forced to confront the fact that I just wasn't young anymore. I had to pay attention to my changing body and understand that while I'm on the fitter side of the majority of 50 year olds, I'm not 30....or even 40 anymore. This is the second half of my life....for real.
I really thought this setback was going to absolutely crush me. I was scared, thinking of that time in 2021 when I just descended into a deep sadness. I didn't want that to happen again.
So I turned to God, and I realized that this response to pain and uncertainty is now automatic to me. For a long time I subconsciously fought against "help from God," figuring I could deal with it on my own. Not anymore. I KNOW I am not enough, I KNOW I can't weather all of life's storms under only my own strength. I NEED God to pull me through. As soon as I realized the depth of my fear, I prayed.
What happened was a sense of peace and of hope, and a motivation to do what I needed to do physically and mentally to keep myself afloat. On my harder days, I prayed more. I wrote in my journal. I talked to my friends. I spent time with Greg. I went on walks and continued to pray. I did what was in my control.
I never want to be that sad and lost again. You’ve heard the saying that God never gives us more than we can handle. That’s actually not true. We are absolutely bound to encounter things that are too much for us. But God promised us a way through it, and that requires surrender to Him. On the other side of that hardship is a strength and purpose that doesn’t come from this earth alone.
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