If you’ve had the “pleasure” of interacting with me this week, you may have noticed I’ve not been my usual, cheery self. I’ve been majorly flipping out about Sunday’s race, to the point where I am seeing it show up in my teaching (being short-tempered with the babies) and have temporarily disabled my Facebook account so I can avoid questions and chatter about it. My feeling had evolved from terror to resignation. “Well. Race day is coming. Nothing I can do. Woe is me.”
Anyone who knows me well knows that I start to shut down and pull away from others when I need support the most. This applies in all of my relationships, including my vertical one. When life is awesome (which it is the vast majority of the time), I find it much easier to give thanks to God than to ask for help. I’ve found myself so desperate these last few days that even stubborn lost lamb Lady J knows that prayer is a good idea. “Hey God. Gimme a good one from the word.”
What a shock. He did.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:35, 37-39 NIV)
Hey, you guys! That part that I italicized – that’s GOT to include scary ass races, right? So I’m covered! I’m not alone now, I won’t be before I start on Sunday, and no matter what happens after that, He’s always with me.
So while I’m not feeling more confident, I am decidedly less panicked. Can’t nobody tell me miracles aren’t real! Victories aren’t just for finish lines, you know. 🙂