Marathon anyone?

I promise I'm not here to try and bore you to death with analogies or make a Jesus Parallel out of every situation, which is why I put off writing this post for a good four months. All that to say, I'm going to do it anyway...

Wednesday morning at the crack of dawn (wait, "dawn" means there's light out... okay, before dawn...), I was running in formation and I started reminiscing on my marathon. For those of you who don't know, my father and I ran a marathon in December. It was his fifth and my first. Running the marathon was one of the things on my "bucket list," so I guess I'm a step closer to death. If you have never ran a race before, they are amazing. It really doesn't matter where your ability level is when there are 2,000+ people. There will inevitably be someone faster than you and someone slower than you. The feeling is so amazing when you are standing there in the bitter cold morning watching the world wake up, anticipating the shot to be fired, and waiting for the "Go!" to be announced. Familiar jitters capture my body and the excitement drives my determination. The realization that I'm not in this alone, makes it so much more appealing. It may be a "race" but it certainly is one filled with encouragement and the unspoken knowledge that we are all hoping to see the person beside us finishing strong in a few hours.
I'm sure you can guess how i draw my "spiritual parallel" from this event. I write this as much for myself as I do for those of you who take a minute to read it. My dad told me that every mile that I got to that I had not ran yet, I needed to do a dance. (Before the marathon of 26.2 miles, the furthest that I had ran was 18 miles.) It sounds silly and juvenile, yet it gave me something to look forward to and a strange motivation to get to the next mile. I can't even explain to you how much I respect my father. Don't get me wrong, I respected him before the marathon, but running with him opened up a whole new avenue of respect. He earned my respect in an "athlete" kind of way. I wanted to run fast in the beginning and he kept warning me that I needed to hold a steady pace and it would give me a good foundation for the rest of the race. He was so right. Especially at mile 22. Dang, I was finished but he just kept on keeping on at his steady pace.

What if I lived out my walk for Christ with the same principles that I ran the marathon? What if every time I got to a new place with Him, I stopped to reflect and do a little dance? Sometimes I wonder if I really grasp the idea that Jesus Christ is running the race next to me, If I really understand that he is keeping my steady pace for me so that I won't burn out before the finish line. My Heavenly Father is singing my cadence and keeping me in step. I so badly want that "good and faithful servant" at the end of my Marathon, so for now, I will keep on keeping on. One day at a time, One mile at a time, One step at a time.