I've never liked marathons

In junior high, I was in track. *gasp* Yes,  me.  And I really,  really wanted to run hurdles.  But the coaches never even asked me to try.  Instead,  they put me down for the mile.  Meet after meet,  I gasped my way around that track,  hating it every minute.  As a matter of fact,  the only thing worse was the one time they put me in the two mile. I was never an openly defiant kid... but that day I let my displeasure be clearly seen: I walked those two miles and didn't care how many people lapped me. I'm sure everyone was relieved when I didn't come out for the senior high team!

I would have loved to try the hurdles,  just once.  And I never understood why I wasn't given the chance. I probably wouldn't have been a star.  But I wouldn't have been miserable. Right?

Or... maybe I would have discovered that I was horrible at that too. And then even the hope of enjoying a sport would have been replaced by frustration and shame. I guess I'll never know. I do know that I hated the long run. We'd watch our teammates run sprints, relays,  hurdles,  the quarter mile... and then it was time for that long plod. Step after step of getting nowhere. I didn't even care what place I took. In reality, it wasn't a long race.  But it felt like ages to me every time, as well as incredibly pointless.  By the time we got to my race,  all the excitement was over. All the interesting heats had been decided.  I was just an indication that we would soon be headed home. Oh,  how I hated it!

I feel much the same now. There's so little that feels like progress.  I'm just plodding along on this track I didn't choose. Tomorrow I have a scan,  but that's not the end.  It's just passing the stands one more time. After this,  it could be as long as 4 months before I even have another doctor appointment.

I should be thankful.  I should be overwhelmed with gratitude that I'm not being rushed to surgery or plied with medications. But I never learned to like the marathon. I just want it to be over. It's exhausting.

And I'm so tempted to ask why I wasn't given hurdles. Something I think I can handle.  Why THIS race? I don't know. I'll probably never know. So it comes down to if I trust my Coach or not. In school, I didn't. They barely knew me,  and certainly didn't genuinely care.  I was just another talentless kid passing through.

But in life... here I pause and read that Christ died for me. And He didn't say that I would never suffer,  or that life would always work out the way I wanted. But He did promise that His burden is light. And,  with His sacrifice before me, my trial becomes so much easier to bear.

I'll never like the marathon. But I'm discovering (again,  as it's a lesson I seem to often forget) that the strength to run will be given as its needed.  And maybe I need the lesson more than I need any physical healing.

"God did not say 'thou shalt not be tempested, thou shalt not be travailed, thou shalt not be diseased.' But he said, 'thou shall not be overcome.' " ~Julian of Norwich