Tuesday, February 14, 2017

How Well Are You Running Your Race?

A year ago I agreed to write several posts for Diane Bailey and The Consilium. You could not have convinced me at that time I would end up stepping away from the computer for almost nine months. Outside of meeting a few deadlines I have not written. Unless you count composing words in my head space as writing. It's been a season of upheaval and change, full of hard and beautiful days. Stepping back has allowed a natural shift in pace, priorities, and routine. 

I've enjoyed the quiet. Almost too much. 

It has made space for incremental change as well as quantum leaps in areas that may forever go unnoticed others. If you know much about writing, it's social suicide to stop doing all the things that blogging professionals say should be done more. You know the message. To get bigger you need to keep the pace. To have an on-line presence there needs to be more. Write more. Post more. Tweet more. Capture more of every precious moment of your life on Instagram, even if it is staged. 

I've missed you. I've pressed down feeling of guilt for the silence. But all of this doing less, being smaller, and living simpler have resulted in more. 

More energy. More time outdoors. More time reading. More time with my husband, children, grand-kids, friends and neighbors. More peace. More energy. More of the things that make me feel alive. Perhaps it isn't true for you, but for me, the on-line clamor was messing with my in-real-life calm.

So I've been running my life-race.... quietly off the on-line grid. 

It has untangled some things for me. 

It's helped me recharge and reset my focus. Thank you for the grace of letting me step back so I can move forward with more intentionality. 

Would you like to join me today over at Diane's? I'd love to hear how you are running your race.

- - - - - - - 

The cinder track was bold red with freshly painted lines of white and numbers to mark out each lane. The spring-like day with blue sky was a welcome relief from cold and rainy days that had preceded my first track meet. Jogging in place my new running shoes made a squeak and the new leather pressed against the bridge of my right foot and back of my heel. Pushing wisps of wild blond hair behind my ears, I reset the thick ponytail and rested sweaty hands on hips pretending to focus on my feet jogging in place.

Mine was the least desirable lane six. I tried to breathe in deep enough to exhale some confidence and glanced around to size up my completion. They each looked thinner, more athletic and stared me down with fierce confidence. It felt as if I was a fraud, thinking I could somehow be a runner.

A man’s voice thundered for runners to “get set.” Pushing back into the blocks sweat rolled down the sides of my face. The gun signaled the start and I stumbled out of the blocks losing time as I fought to regain balance and find my stride.

I kept looking to see how close the other runners were. I was sprinting hard, arms pumping, fingers poised for momentum. There was a glimmer of hope in my ability. That faded as my feet became more like concrete blocks and my legs melted and became hard to control.

By the finish line, I was throwing up. Drenched in sweat, embarrassment, and humiliation. Instead of cheers and fist pumps of victory, I heard mocking whispers as I stumbled toward the school bus and found a back seat to lay down with knees pulled into my chest and head buried.

This wasn’t how I had written the script in my head.

I’ve re-run this grueling, ugly race in my mind too many times. For years, it ranked as one of my most embarrassing moments.

The failure of one race often framed how I lived my life race.

That was until one day the Lord used it to teach me about my heart.

(Read the whole article here)


kakamabery said...

Casino Near Bryson City Casino and Racetrack
Compare 군산 출장마사지 reviews, photos and 1 tip from 1235 visitors about 광주광역 출장샵 Casino Near 김천 출장샵 Bryson City 공주 출장안마 Casino and Racetrack. "The closest casino 상주 출장샵 to Bryson City is

Post a Comment

I love hearing from you! Thank you for stopping by.

© Rhonda Quaney