The most frustrating part about my life lately is that God took running away from me.
He took the one thing that I was clinging to.
Which He should have, because I was clinging to something other than Him.
Because I swear, there were days at the gym that I’d be gritting my teeth and muffling a scream at the pain in my back and leg, but still pushing through. Just one more mile. One more. I was tough enough, I could do it.
When I finished I always felt invincible (which is just foolish to feel while limping all the way to my car). But I somehow convinced myself that I had shown the pain that it didn’t win.
That’s likely what landed me in the state I’m in.
Pain is there to warn us, to tell us when something is not as it should be.
Pain is not something to beat. It’s something to listen to.
Tearing down the street sign doesn’t change where you are, and fighting the pain doesn’t heal you.
You won’t outrun the pain.
People are going to make it worse. They’re going to tell you fifty-million solutions for how to fix it and cure it. They are going to ask you a million questions. They’re going to tell you about their twice-removed-aunt’s-sister’s-cousin and how she miraculously recovered. And they will have the best of intentions.
But they are not you and this isn’t their pain to carry.
God didn’t cause your pain, but He allowed it. But He allowed it to be your pain, not theirs.
So while you can listen to wise advice and consider people’s opinions, you’ve got to make decisions for yourself and you’ve got to own those decisions. Then, you have to accept where God has you.
You don’t need to believe that He’s going to keep you or leave you there. But you have to accept that for whatever reason, He has you there now.
That isn’t the end of the world and it isn’t the defeat of your faith. Admitting reality isn’t lack of faith.
Faith is not denying your pain. Faith is not fighting your pain.
Faith is admitting your pain. Faith is remembering that you are not God and you cannot defeat pain.
Faith points to the one person who did defeat pain, but did not deny its existence. If we deny pain’s existence, we deny His victory.
Pain is real, but it is temporary.
And the more miles you try to run through the pain, the longer you’re going to be sidelined when you finally break.
He took the thing I was clinging to. I’m frustrated, but I’m thankful. Because believe me when I tell you, the miles you run won’t be there for you when it all comes crumbling down.
In the end, I think I’d always rather be sidelined than clinging to anything but Him.