It's been a while since I've posted anything, and it's not for lack of thoughts and ideas. No, it's for lack of time. I feel like the past month has been me running, running and more running, but not necessarily feeling like I'm making ground. There are days when I feel like I am non-stop from the moment my alarm provides it's regular 5:33 a.m. greeting (ACW quirk revealed: I always set my alarms on multiples of 11) to the moment I close my eyes at night, but I don't feel all the accomplished despite the rat-race of the day. On those days I feel like I got just enough done to feel worth the oxygen I consumed in breathing that day, but there's no sense of real accomplishment or fulfillment in the day. In a word, it's a feeling of restlessness.
People who know me. . .in particular, those who are "blessed" to work with me every day, know that I have been in a battle this past week with my not-so-dear friend, insomnia. In truth, I've decided that insomnia qualifies as a "frenemy" because as much as I HATE when I can't sleep, after a few nights of its presence, there is always some revelation that comes from it that makes me oddly grateful for the visit from insomnia. Chances are as good as not that this "revelation" is nothing more than a delusional and exhausted mind that is a byproduct of sleep deprivation, but in my quest to find God's message in all things (even things as ugly as a sleepless night), I like to tell myself that God sometimes asks me to "stay awake" so that He can reveal to me something that I'm missing in the waking hours. I assure you that God and I have had our share of middle of the night arguments, but notwithstanding my valiant efforts at persuasive argumentation, God always comes out the winner. You would think at some point I'd learn to not argue with God, but let's get serious, I'm a lawyer! Asking me to give up arguing with God is like asking me to give up Diet Coke. Neither are likely to happen, and if God didn't sort of enjoy the arguments, He wouldn't wake me up for three, four, five hours in the middle of the night. If I've told Him once, I've told him ever-so-kindly MANY times that if He wakes me up and keeps me awake, He best have something powerful to share with me. That's usually when the arguing starts because His response is generally not speedy and not audible. Earlier this week I literally found myself saying (and by saying, I mean whining), "God, could you PLEASE use your words so I can hear whatever it is you feel is important enough to wake me up for and go back to sleep?!?!?!"
This week was three miserable nights of tossing, turning, looking at the clock and watching it get closer and closer and closer to the morning light. Each of those nights was followed by a day of LOTS of caffeine and a hope that maybe, just maybe, I would be tired enough to knock out the next night. In fact, by Thursday night I invited an intervention from a long lost amigo, Jose Quervo. . .not a lot, but just enough to help the zzzzz's make their way back to my life. Jose did nothing to help me overcome insomnia and gave me a mild headache in the morning which quickly reminded me that there is a reason he is in the "long lost" categories of friends. After three long nights and three long days, sleep was restored, but my restlessness was not. I hadn't yet figured out what I was suppose to gain from laying awake waiting for the message that I was suppose to hear. I can handle less than desirable circumstances in my life, but I struggle when I can't get an answer to the "why?" I think God would tell you that I'm like a two-year-old when it comes to that word. I will ask that question over and over and over and over until I get an answer that either satisfies me or shuts me up. More often than not I am not satisfied with the initial answer, so there is a series of follow-up "whys" until one of two things happens: I get enough of an explanation that I can make sense of it or I get the fateful words that I hate most, the trump card that every parent gets with the birth of their first-born, "because I said so." Well, folks, not to break habit I have been asking "why" for a solid 48 hours, and today is when clarity was restored and the "revelation" that God was trying to impart on me is this. . .life is a marathon, not a sprint!
watch because you can't help but think about all that has gone into crossing the line with hands raised and "I did it!" pulsing though every part of the body!
The root word of endurance is "endure." One dictionary definition of "endure" is "to bear without resistance or with patience;" another definition is "to sustain without yielding." In reading these definitions, I was immediately struck by what seems to be a paradox in definitions. In one sense, it is to "bear without resistance" which suggests a surrender of sorts, right? However, the next definition is "to sustain without yielding" which to me suggests holding firm and not giving in. Is it just me or do these definitions contradict one another?!?!?! Well, in life it seems that both definitions are critical to getting the most out of every circumstance - the joy, the pain and everything in between! You see, there are times in all of our lives when circumstances are completely outside of our control. Admittedly, I am a control freak (in fact, I am the poster child for control freaks). I hate when I feel like I lack control in an area of my life. I hate when I feel like there isn't a dang thing I can do to change what is going on in my life. It's in those moments that my endurance is really a matter of having the strength to know my limitations and to surrender it to God's hand. On the other hand, there are times when I feel like I am challenged a different way because my circumstances require me to fight through something when it would be much easier to give up and call it a wrap. Those are the moments when my endurance forces me to keep going despite the obstacles that lure me to give up and give in. Then there are times in life when I realize that my life is a series of day-to-day sprints. I subconsciously and unknowingly find a place on the shelf for endurance and attempt to run through each day crossing as much as I can off the never-ending "to do" list, but without any thought to the bigger picture. Days go by quickly, but there is a distinct feeling of fragmentation and almost a staccato-like disconnect from day-to-day. It's those days that I often feel like I lose the essence of myself in a whirlwind pace of life. It's almost like life is reduced to a state of mere existence rather than a state of living.
That is EXACTLY what was going on last week when for reasons unknown to me I started doing life as a sprinter rather than a marathon runner. I was doing everything I needed to do. In fact, I felt relatively accomplished in terms of being productive, but no matter how productive I was in any given task, I didn't feel like I was covering ground. I had apparently misplaced my endurance and the days were measured by little more than hours, minutes and seconds. I went to bed tired each night, but it was a restless kind of tired as if I hadn't truly accomplished what was intended for me each day. I incessantly wondered why God felt the need to wake me up night after night after night, and the answer was quite simple. I had never slowed down enough during the day for Him to get my attention. I was operating completely oblivious to the bigger picture and doing little, if anything, to give my full self to each day. The one place and time God knew He could have my undivided attention was the middle of the night, and my attention He got. I needed that reminder that life is an endurance race. I needed the reminder that existence apart from purpose isn't enough for true fulfillment at the end of the day. Not always the quickest to catch on to His messages for me, it took me while to "get it," but now that I understand what He was doing and why, I am super excited about getting back on the marathon course. I am inspired to run with are purpose greater than immediate and instant gratification. The day-to-day sprints were little more than a momentary detour from the race, but I'm back on track and living this beautiful life the way that God intended for me to live it. . .as a marathon, not a sprint!
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