Oct 11, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here. I hope you enjoy diving in!
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Funny thing I’d love to mention to you. Just a little while ago, I was looking at something I’d written down in my prayer journal, and I came across a prayer I’d written down early one morning this summer. The sun was shining through the trees, my garden was growing in the backyard, and I was awake and thankful and grateful, and full of things to praise the Lord for. Even though it was near my Dad’s birthday and I was missing him more than usual, still I felt the weight of all the gifts, and told the Lord I could only trust Him and smile at His goodness.
That was not this morning.
This morning I woke up wondering why the Tank had to get up at half past 11 for a drink of water, which meant shortly after I’d settled myself back into bed and nearly fallen asleep the Belle woke up and needed some juice and why didn’t we just get in bed at 8:30 last night and call it a day, I am tired.
(Nevermind that the Hubs had just gotten home and was having dinner at 8:30…)
Sometimes I look back on the days when I was in college, and I made good decisions about studying and exercising and resting (most of the time) and I didn’t have to get up particularly early most of the time. When I woke up in the morning, a big smile covered my face, my arms stretched toward the sky… it was what I’d imagine it looks like when a Disney princess wakes up in the morning. Birds singing, light streaming through the window, happy thoughts brimming over…
That was not this morning, either.
Poor Hero Hubs.
The truth is there are seasons when you are ready and excited to dive into the race for the day. Things seem to be going well, perhaps you’re excited about what’s happening in your life, and it’s easy to give thanks and find joy.
But then there are seasons where it is — literally or figuratively — painful, just to get out of bed. A struggle to schlep to the shower. Where you wonder how people survived before the advent of coffee.
Those are the laps in the pool that are hard to complete. Not impossible, but surely a challenge.
In the pool, facing a lap that you don’t feel ready to swim typically requires you to do a couple of simple things. First, maintain a careful awareness of your pace to make sure you’re not going at it too hard to finish the race, and second, stay focused on just completing the next stroke.
In high school, one of my best friends {Camden, the same friend from the anklet story} swam the 500 meter freestyle race. To help the swimmers keep track, we had these plastic boards where we could flip the numbers over. We plunged these into the pool with the number of laps completed (or remaining… I can’t remember) so that the swimmer in that lane could see where they were in their race and pace themselves accordingly.
Camden was skilled at pacing herself as a distance swimmer (unlike yours truly) but there were races where I could watch her, or some of the other swimmers in the pool, and see that it was a challenge just to get each arm up out of the pool and plunge it back in again.
If you’re in a season like this, it might be a good time to look at your pace. To ask questions about what you’re requiring of yourself and how you could do things differently to make sure you’re getting rest and taking care of yourself.
Once you’ve asked that question, know that sometimes these seasons are ordained by God. A swimmer working toward a quicker pace in the pool will train their body to handle a greater amount of challenge and resistance. A believer being trained to run their race with endurance will endure seasons of hardship and learn to lean more heavily on the Lord and His Spirit to see them through.
If you are in the midst of a season where you’re struggling just to get one arm out of the pool, know that there is a God who sees you in this circumstance. He is the Author and Perfecter of our faith, which means He can author something beautiful, even out of the hard places in our lives. The places where we just want to stop — we don’t want to swim another stroke.
Don’t let the big picture overwhelm you. Don’t allow a sense of fear, in questioning how long you’ll have to endure this particular season, trouble your heart.
The race happens one lap at a time. Life comes one day at a time.
Keep asking for, and giving thanks for, your daily bread.
Keep asking for, and giving thanks for, the strength and help you need to make it through this day.
You are not swimming next week’s race right now. You are here, and all you have to live is today.
Look for God’s goodness in this lap friends… I believe you’ll find it.
xCC
Oct 10, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here. I hope you enjoy diving in!
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I once was in an outside lane, getting ready to swim a 100 meter freestyle. Now in case you’re not familiar with the sport of swimming, allow me to let you in on a few little details that are probably obvious, but still worth reviewing. First, your pace is pretty central to your race. Every swimmer has a different pace, and there’s a pace appropriate for every swimmer for every race. Better put, you cannot swim a 500 meter freestyle at the same pace that you swim a 50 meter freestyle. For the 50, you’re all-out-Michael-Phelps-sprinting with everything you’ve got. You are going for it as hard as you possibly can. Some swimmers don’t even take a breath on a 50 meter freestyle. They just go.
The 500 meter freestyle, on the other hand, is a different story. You will be making the trek from one end of the pool to the other over, and over, and over again. You’ll be counting the laps and you’ll be careful about your pace. You do NOT want to give out of gas.
Now back to the story. I once was in an outside lane — and even though this was ages ago, I can still picture it clearly. Being a bit of a ninnymuggins, I decided I’d try to keep pace with the girl in the lane next to me, though I did not know her from a bar of soap. Now the pools you see folks swimming in at the Olympics are 50 meters long. But the pools your average high school swimmer is hitting are 25 meters long. This means for a 50 meter race, you’ll swim down, flip turn, and swim back. And, in case you need a little help with your math, for a 100 meter race, you’ll swim down, come back, swim down, and come back once more.
So I started the race with an eye on the girl next to me. She could’ve been swimming for the Junior Olympics and I wouldn’t have known it. I started out on my 100 meter freestyle with a pace more like a 50. I was energetic, I was excited to make a good time, I was going for it.
At the first turn, I was still doing well. I felt good. The girl next to me was definitely getting ahead of me, but at least I would probably rock a faster time than usual. By the second flip turn, I realized I’d made a bit of a mistake, attempting a pace that I just couldn’t keep. I’d already slowed down my pace considerably, but my body was tired from practically sprinting the first 50 of the race. By the last flip turn, I was headed toward the home stretch grateful I was still swimming. My body wanted to stop and recover but I still had one length of the pool to go.
Every. stroke. was. hard.
Halfway through that last length, I felt like a grand piano was weighing me down. I imagined that onlookers probably thought I looked like somebody just learning to swim — my slow and sloppy strokes were the efforts of a kid who was almost giving out. I’m pretty sure I was the last to touch the wall on that race. I did not achieve my best time in a 100 meter freestyle that day. And I’m pretty sure the reason why is obvious to all of us. But to make sure you get the joy of learning from my rookie mistake, let’s still talk about it:
Pace is important.
Pace is essential.
You can’t race well without considering your pace.
And one more thought, before we dive into hashing this out:
Your pace will not be the same as anybody else’s.
Yesterday we talked about the goodness of Jesus, the Swimmer our glorious Head Coach sent as a substitute, to swim the perfect race we couldn’t swim. We also talked about the gloriously Good News that even though Jesus swam the perfect race for us, we still have the privilege, now reconciled to God, to swim our own race for His glory.
Now the story I’ve just told you has important implications out of the pool that are worth unpacking a bit more thoroughly.
First, your race is not going to look like anyone else’s. I was on the phone with a good friend yesterday, and she spoke about what her family had been up to, how they’d had a couple of busy weekends and she’d had a couple of busy days. She said she knew she needed to slow down and rest, because this pace was just too quick for her. “You probably think that sounds silly with all you have going on,” she commented. “That I need to slow down and rest and this is all I’ve been doing.”
But I was quick to reply: “The Lord knows our frame. He knows what we can handle. And we aren’t all supposed to run at the same pace.” There are seasons when your life feels like it’s moving forward at a crawl. But there are things for you to learn there. There is rest for you to prepare for other seasons of the journey. There is food for your soul in that stillness if you are willing to receive it.
There are other times when the pace changes. When you have children, it automatically begins to feel like the pace of your life has changed. Sitting at home with a newborn instead of being in a fast-paced work environment, you might feel like it has slowed down. Rushing two or three older children to and from school and to extra curricular activities, you might feel like children speed the pace up.
But how do we know what the right pace is for our life?
We live by the Spirit.
There is another coach for us — intimately acquainted with all of our ways. In John 16, Jesus tells His disciples about the Holy Spirit.
But now I go away to Him who sent Me, and none of you asks Me, ‘Where are You going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart. Nevertheless I tell you the truth. It is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you; but if I depart, I will send Him to you.
Jesus went on to say:
I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth; for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak; and He will tell you things to come.
So Jesus promised, after He swam the perfect race and returned to the Father, that He’d send a Helper to give us a clear understanding of truth, to help us swim our own race.
Our invitation to follow Christ is an invitation to walk with this Spirit. Through prayer, in worship, and in quietly listening to that still small voice revealing Truth to us, we can gently yield our lives to the leading of God. He can set the pace for us. He can show us how to walk through any and every season of the soul. Our story will not look like anyone else’s. Our pace will not be the same as anyone else’s.
We have a unique race to run that is precious to the Father.
Sometimes the race is hard. Sometimes its hard to understand why very, very hard things happen. But do you remember our discussion from Day 2? We find the perfect peace for our race by keeping our minds firmly fixed on the God who can bless us with perfect peace if we TRUST Him.
If our minds are firmly fixed on God and our hearts are yielding to the Spirit, we will still experience hardship, but we will overcome.
And with God breathing life into us, the story of our race will be nothing short of glorious.
I’ll leave you with these thoughts from Paul, when He discussed this walk with the Spirit in his letter to the Galatians. {This is the Message version of Gal. 5:25-26}
Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.
Find your pace at the heart of God, friends.
xCC
Oct 9, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here. I hope you enjoy diving in!
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It was the beginning of my senior year of high school. My tummy was full of anxious butterflies, every inch of me on high alert. It was the first swim meet of the season and I was pumped for my first race. I had a good position on the blocks, my long brown hair was stuffed up into the swim cap stretched round my head, my goggles on were on tight, and I was eager to take my first plunge of the meet.
I’d had a great summer. Full of the joy of being young and having a great group of friends. We’d made trips to the beach and visited our friends staying up in Manteo for the summer who’d graduated the year before. There were late nights and there was lots of laughter. On one of our beach trips, my best friend and I bought little matching anklets. I know, this BFF moment is starting to sound like a cheesy teen angst movie, so hold that thought, and let’s get back to the swim meet story.
I stepped up onto the block for the first race of my last season as a swimmer at Washington High School. An official standing behind the blocks immediately asked me to step back down. I’d completely forgotten about the little anklet around my ankle, and wearing jewelry of any sort was against the rules. I was disqualified from the race. I removed it quickly, and since the race hadn’t started yet, I asked if I could still participate. Unfortunately, the official held onto his position — I shouldn’t have stepped up onto the blocks with jewelry. I could not swim the race.
I was afraid my coach would be upset with me for this silly mistake, but I think he could see in my face that I was very disappointed, and that it had been an accident. He chose something positive to say instead, and I took a deep breath and decided to focus on the next race and just let it go. There’d be other meets and other opportunities to swim that event.
But missing out sure was a downer.
If our lives are just a blip on the timeline of eternity, but the race we’re swimming now determines our destiny when we arrive at the gates of eternity, then this race that we’re swimming has one central importance that outshines all the others: we need to swim a race that earns us a spot on the glorious podium of everlasting life. We live in a broken and fallen world, but at the end of it, there’s the hope of everlasting life. There’s the promised land on the other side, where there are no more tears, no more sorrow… there is just joy and peace and light and life everlasting in the presence of an everlasting, unchanging, incredible God. It is a place so perfect that no one who swims an imperfect race is allowed in.
And that’s where the problem lies. Yesterday we discussed the Head Coach who loves us and wants to help us make it through our race to glory. He created us and instilled in us the incredible gift of free will — meaning (among other things) He gave us the option of choosing whether or not to love Him back.
This is that problem, that important aspect of our race that we haven’t discussed yet: the fact that we’re all basically disqualified.
We fall short of the mark. We’re not able to swim a perfect race. So your Head Coach came up with a plan, one that was with Him at the beginning: Jesus.
Jesus dove into the murky waters of this world to swim a perfect race. While we were still practically drowning in a mess of sin and hurt and brokenness and pain, He came near, swam a perfect race by living a perfect life, and then chose to accept the suffering and punishment that would reconcile us to God, because we are incapable of doing it ourselves.
While we stood on the deck disqualified, Jesus dove in, perfectly qualified, to earn everlasting life and reconciliation, and a place in eternity.
No matter how hard we try, no matter how much we train, we would never be able to swim a race that would earn us a ticket to glory. So the Coach made a substitution, His race for yours. Jesus earned the qualification and freely hands it to you.
This truth might sometimes make us feel like we’re sitting the bench. We live in a competitive society where we value hard work, discipline and oh my goodness do we ever love our sports. The person on the bench doesn’t normally get much time in the limelight.
The best Good News is that Jesus swam the perfect race for you, but the story just keeps getting better. You are still invited to be a participant in the race that is your life. You aren’t supposed to sit on the sidelines and watch.
Jesus swam the perfect race for you, but you still have a race to swim.
You can still swim a race that pleases your head coach, and still make decisions with your life that will echo in eternity. Jesus means so many things — He is so central to our understanding of the race we are in. We’ll continue the discussion of Jesus and our race tomorrow, but I want to leave you with these thoughts today. We’ve looked at these verses from Hebrews 12 already in this series, but let me leave you with these thoughts to slowly soak in today. This version of those precious words (Heb. 12: 1 – 3) is from The Message:
Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!
Swim wholeheartedly today, friends.
xCC
Oct 8, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here.
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Yesterday the love the God of the universe has just for teeny, fleeting, rare, precious you was the topic of discussion. If you missed it, I hope you’ll go back and have a look, because His love for us is so central to our understanding our life as Christians and our interactions with Him.
Now let me tell you a little something that might be new about competitive swimming. When you first dive into the water to start a race, it is a great, great, feeling. Water whooshes past you on every side, and as you exhale that deep breath you’ve been holding since before the plunge, little bubbles surround you and dance their way toward your toes. All the noise from above the water is a distant murmur. You can almost feel alone. Peaceful. But you know there’s a race, and you’ve got to get started, so with a few underwater kicks, you’re up and as you take your first breath the rising noise is there to greet you.
In high school, our swim coach usually walked alongside the length of the pool with us as we raced. If he wanted us to pick up our pace, each time we took a breath he’d shout out this indiscriminate “Uhhht!” sound that would get a little faster and a little faster. He cheered us to victory and walked with us through defeat. His hand signals and facial expressions were enough to tell me how it was going.
Sometimes I think my life could use a coach, too.
Some days I feel like I’m barely making it through and the things on my to-do list are staring me in the face.
But an interesting thing happened a few weeks ago. It was my birthday, and I woke up in the morning, just happy and certain it was going to be a good day. The Hubs made a special breakfast for me and it was wonderful. I still had things to do around the house, and I still spent time homeschooling the Bear. My Mom came over with lunch and gifts, and it was wonderful and I was happy. There were still tasks on my to-do list, still things waiting for me to get done, but I realized I was deliberately choosing to enjoy the day, rather than to allow the things waiting for my attention to draw me away from enjoying the moment.
I tidied up around the house and a friend stopped by for a chat with a gift. Precious!! I made dinner for the children before the Hubs and I went out to dinner. My heart stayed joyfully present in all the special moments throughout the day. I decided I could only get so much done in 24 hours, and that would have to be good enough because it was my birthday.
But here’s the question. Is the 18th of September really so very different from the 19th?
Can I not find joy, can I not deliberately choose to enjoy a day — even if it’s not my birthday?
This is where having a Coach really comes in handy. They often help you to recognize your patterns – especially the not-so-good-ones.
In swimming, I once had the habit of slightly rotating sideways while doing a flip turn at the wall. While a slight rotation might not seem like a big deal, it was taking me longer than it could have to make that flip before pushing off the wall and continuing the race. Losing time in the pool is a problem. My coach saw this problem that I couldn’t really see for myself, pointed it out, and helped me work on correcting it.
In life, I have developed the pattern of waking up stressed. Instead of organizing tasks and reminding myself that I can only accomplish so much in 24 hours, I scurry around throughout the day, homeschooling and trying to get a few other things done during “independent work” moments, cooking and planning a menu and simultaneously trying to answer an email.
I’ve let the task list discourage me so much that I’m forgetting, I can choose to enjoy today.
What might my Coach say about this pattern? I discussed it with him and this is what I felt led to pray:
“Dear Lord, Some of these days I feel like I’m barely making it through. Help me to *remember Your goodness & faithfulness* and to let that perspective change the way I view my life. Your gifts are so good. Even with the challenge of settling my Dad’s estate lingering all these months later, I know this is according to Your purposes. Holy & Awesome God, help me to find perspective.”
This morning, I scurried outside long before the sun came up to catch a glimpse of the lunar eclipse. The “Blood Moon” was supposed to be a strange and interesting sight, and I wanted to see it. The moon had been out my back window, bright and bold the night before, but this morning, I searched the sky and couldn’t find it. I went out into the backyard and searched in every direction, until finally, just through the trees I saw a bright reddish brown light. As I backed up further and further, so my perspective changed, and above the trees, there was the “Blood Moon,” reddish brown, and eerily glowing.
It was there all along — but I would never have seen it if I hadn’t looked for the light, and changed my perspective.
I also would’ve missed this moment on the journey if I’d allowed the task list of the day to stop me from going outside.
The Father, God, is the one who welcomes the prodigal home with open arms. He gives us more than we believe we deserve, and sees us as intrinsically valuable — worthy of the gift of the life of His Son. He is the Coach that’s cheering us on, waiting for us at the finish. If we spend time with Him, while He is an almighty King, He can also be the Coach that comes alongside us, helps us to see our blindspots, wrong patterns, and incorrect perspectives.
When we find our way into His presence, He reminds us that He’s really the only one we need to worry about pleasing. We can choose to enjoy each day, not worried about how other people feel about our actions or decisions. If His heart is at the center of ours, we can be confident that we’re on the right track.
That moment when you first dive into the water and the bubbles surround you and the silence feels like a peaceful haven is full of a unique joy you often want to stay in. But you can get so focused in on the race — and focus is important — that you completely forget to enjoy the moments you spend racing. As you turn your head to the left or the right, every breath is a gift, as the air fills your lungs and empowers you to keep going.
There is joy at the beginning, but there is joy for the journey, too. Lean heavily on the Coach that can teach you to relax, to remember that life is not an emergency, and to enjoy the journey.
Enjoy your swim today, friends.
xCC
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There are LOTS of other writers doing #31Days this October, too! One of my favorites is my friend Amanda at Seriously. You can find more 31 Days series by visiting write31days.com.
Oct 7, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here.
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You may already know that my Hubs and I are photographers. One of the things we enjoy capturing the most is weddings. And while there are lots of important moments throughout the day, especially during the ceremony, there is this favorite moment we love to make sure to get — the moment when the groom sees the bride for the first time. Capturing the groom’s reaction to the bride was on my shot list last weekend. (We divide up things we want to make sure to capture to try to make sure we get all the imagery we want to have on a wedding day.) This was the first time this particular shot was my responsibility, so I was arms up and eyes ready as the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle, the beautiful little flower girl bounced her way to the front, and a tiny barefoot ring bearer reluctantly followed.
Then the groom saw the bride, ready to marry him, for the first time. When he saw her, his face flushed red. He face was so solemn — as if he was afraid he might not be able to breathe. His eyes sparkled with joy, and with flushed cheeks, you could tell, he fought back a few tears.
I imagine at that point just about everyone had turned to capture a glimpse of the beautiful bride making her way down the aisle on her Father’s arm. She was absolutely stunning, so breathtaking.
But I kept my eyes (and my camera) focused on the groom, and watched as his eyes never wavered. He unswervingly focused on his bride, walking down the aisle to marry him. Until she was standing beside him and the minister began to speak, he never took his eyes off her.
It was a beautiful moment.
There’s a reason the God who created the entire universe wants you to know that you are His bride. There’s a reason the metaphor of the wedding is used for the end of this world when God gathers His church to Himself, and we enter into the unfathomable and breathtaking joy of eternity in His presence.
One reason must be that He wants us to know how much He loves us. He wants us to deeply, fully believe that He is that groom waiting at the end of the aisle for His bride to come. He knows we, His bride, are not perfect, but He sees us as beautiful, dressed in the righteousness He bought for us.
I don’t know what that wedding is going to look like… I can scarcely imagine the cacophony of glory, in sound, in light, in joy, when the the groom who laid down His life for His bride welcomes her into eternity.
Over the next few days, I’d like to think through the metaphor of the coaches you have on your race to glory. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit each have a unique role to play in your journey, and its worth taking the time to ponder a little more of what that means to us.
But before we can dive into those thoughts, I wanted to bring just one thought to you today.
God loves you.
You may have had coaches, or fathers, or brothers who’ve hurt you in the past. You might still be bearing scars on your body or your soul from places where your race went wrong. They were not a part of the story God wanted for your life, but He is able to heal, and He is able to redeem — He is able to make such dark places on the timeline of your days shine so brightly when they work together for good, to become a part of your great story.
If all of eternity was composed into a single book, I want you to understand that while it would have some comedy, some tragedy, so many other elements, at the heart, it’s a love story.
It’s the love of a Father, sending His only Son. The love of a Son, laying down His life to make reconciliation a potential reality. The presence of a Spirit, enabling us to understand, enough to love, though limited and finite we are, we love, as we are able, in return.
If we could swim into the heights and depths and breadths of His love, to explore it, to understand it, to touch it and taste it, we’d just keeping swimming forever. Great is His love for us.
Know that the Maker of Heaven and Earth is watching your race today, friends. He loves your story, and He loves you.
Let that love propel you in your race today. Let it enable you to rest today.
He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
xCC
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I mentioned joining the #31Days writing challenge again this year but forgot to mention that there are LOTS of other writers doing #31Days this October, too! One of my favorites is my friend Amanda at Seriously. There are lots of others that you can finding by visiting write31days.com.
Oct 6, 2014 | 31 Days, The Good Word
A big, smiling welcome to you! This post is part of a series I’m working my way through in the month of October, called Swim Your Own Race. If you’d like to start at the beginning (it is a very good place to start, after all) you can do so, right here.
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This past weekend, we were traveling for the Hubs’ work. He second shoots for a fantastically talented and super sweet photographer sometimes, and learns a heap in the process. The kiddos and I decided to travel along so that I could visit that very dear friend I mentioned yesterday and we did a little homeschool field trip at the same time.
Before we left on Sunday, we went to church together, and it was an interesting experience for me. At this particular juncture in my life, I feel more distracted than ever before. There are emails and Facebook messages waiting for a reply. Tasks on the to-do list of settling my Dad’s estate are waiting for my attention. There is always laundry. Always a menu that needs planning, a grocery list that needs to be scribbled out somewhere. Homeschool needs time and focused attention. Quiver Tree (our photography business) brings some extra tasks to the list. And I have the privilege of being a wife to one awesome South African Cowboy Hero Hubs, and I’m a stay/work-at-home Mama to three darling little pumpkins whom I love dearly.
Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by the task list, I sit on the couch with a cup of tea and just breathe for a little bit.
And sometimes, I scurry around the house, getting distracted by the 1,000 different little things that need doing that I never get the one thing done. I’m on my way to collect laundry to bring to the washing machine, when I see a shoe that belongs with its match in the Belle’s room. I scurry the shoe to the room and see that there are unfolded clothes waiting on her bed. I get to the bottom of that pile and find two dishcloths that should be folded and put away in the kitchen, so it’s off to the kitchen, where I notice a dish that’s been soaking and really needs to be scrubbed… and then the counter needs to be cleared off because it would just make me feel more peaceful and look nicer if it was clear and another stack of mail has arrived with a bill from the lawyers’ offices and heavens sake did I remember that bill last month?
Good luck getting done today laundry, you just weren’t shouting loud enough.
Even inside our little home without much distraction from the outside world, focus still isn’t my strong suit.
We took our kids each to their classrooms at the church we were visiting yesterday, and strolled into the auditorium for the worship service. I’d noticed as we passed the auditorium that it looked hazy in there. When I came in, it became apparent that they blow dry ice or some kind of hazy smoke into the auditorium to make the light show effective. As the lights lowered for worship, it reminded me of a concert, as blue and white lights moved and changed throughout the venue in time with the music. I wanted to close my eyes and just focus on worshipping the Lord, but I didn’t know the words to any of the songs, so I kept having to look at the big screens on either side of the auditorium. The words were across the bottom of the screen, so that they didn’t block the imagery of the worship leaders on the stage also being projected onto the big screens. I was too short to see all of the words and wondered why they couldn’t just put them at the top of the screen instead. (Ya know, then I could see them over people’s heads…)
I tried to pray and just focus on the Lord, but I could feel the big floodlights shining on my face and I was just too… distracted.
Back in his competitive swimming days, focus was a very important part of the Hubs’ preparation for a race. He typically had a very specific number in mind. Let’s say he was hoping to swim a personal best on the 400 meter individual medley, so he and his coach looked at his previous times, considered what time he would need to qualify for national championships, considered the circumstances, and came up with a goal time for him to work toward. This very specific number became his point of focus. The minutes, the seconds, the milliseconds. He’d write the time on post-it notes and put them up on his mirror to look at. He’d say it to himself as he fell asleep. He’d write it down again and again. This goal time for the swim was his focus, from the moment his fingertips touched the water until they tapped the wall. He counted strokes, kept time in his mind, and worked for that number.
Our lives are so full of distractions — ones created for us and ones that we create for ourselves. If I did a better job of making decisions about how to go about completing the seventeen tasks on a particular day’s to-do list, its likely I would be much more effective at achieving those goals. The Hubs has a complicated task management app that keeps him moving forward. I have a string of pieces of paper spread around the house with task lists, sometimes in duplicate, a few items crossed off.
If we say we are the people of God and we want to Swim Our Own Races with God at the center, how do we move past all the distraction?
The author of the letter to the Hebrews has clear instructions for us:
“…and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…” {Hebrews 12: 1b – 2a}
The verses keep going and there’s so much goodness, but let’s just pause right there. How do we run with endurance in a world full of distraction that would pull us to the sidelines? What does it say? We look at Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.
Jesus is the name we can call on to help us make our way through the haze and smoke and lights. Jesus is the person we fix our eyes on waiting at the end of the race to welcome us to the glorious eternity His children are running toward.
Jesus is the time we should all focus on memorizing.
When a new company wants to be a successful, growing, thriving company, the leaders of that company are careful about where they focus their attention. The Starbucks success story has been read and evaluated again and again — examples like this are what companies that want to make it big study carefully. How did Starbucks grow into an international mega-powerhouse just decades after opening the door of its first coffee shop? How did it create that niche need that nobody knew they had? How did Apple single handedly create a market for personal tablet devices after other companies tried and failed? These are the things a company wanting to make it big will learn — this is their great cloud of witnesses. The written stories of the successes and failures and thorough evaluations of those who’ve gone before them are the pages of the Bible they study.
But what about the people of God? If we want to single-mindedly swim our race with love for the God of the universe at the center, where do we put our focus?
We look to Jesus… the author and finisher of our faith — and the Scripture goes on to give us an example of what to consider. Who for the joy set before Him endured the cross. He knows where He is going. He knows what He has to walk through to get there. But for the joy set before Him — the joy of paving a way back to God for all of mankind — He endured the cross — He willingly chose to make the sacrifice necessary to make it possible.
He is where we fix our eyes, friends. He is where we fix our hearts, church. His story is where we learn how to live single-mindedly. We can “swim” this race with singleminded purpose, looking forward to hearing those words when we stretch our arms out to touch the wall — Well done, good and faithful servant, well done.
Everything in this world is temporary. And this world itself is fading away, along with everything it craves.
But we have the Name above all Names to fix our eyes on. In studying His every movement, we will find the focus and direction to swim our own race for His glory.
Swim Your Own Race today, friends.
xCC
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