On August 5th, I completed a 24-mile trail run in the Cedar Hill State Park. The plan was to complete the 36K of the Blazin Summer Sufferfest on August 3rd. Unfortunately, it was postponed and subsequently rescheduled to August 10th. August 10th did not work with my schedule. So at 6 AM on August 5th, Monday morning I sat scared in my truck, in the dark, at the beginning of the DORBA trail.
Getting to the trail on Monday morning was the first “mini-seminar”. Getting out of the truck was another “mini-seminar”. The real test came at mile 22 when my app told me I was done and the trail in front of me told me I was not.
Getting to the Trail.
My hubby and I celebrated 24 years in April. He is not an endurance athlete. And it baffles him why anyone would choose to run long distances when there are other choices possible. Even though he didn’t understand it, he supported me on this journey. I asked him to refrain from sharing his misgivings till after the race on August 3rd.
If he shared, then his doubts and my perspective on what it meant to be a Christian submissive wife would collide on the trail. And I didn’t want this race to be about my role. The race was about God’s purpose for me, about my unique, individual relationship and understanding of who God created me to be. So, he honored that request.
I had my own doubts about doing this race. I suffered a concussion on March 28th that took me out for 6 weeks. I had doubts about running on a trail with limited access for cars and emergency vehicles. I had doubts about running in August in Texas; the summer heat is no joke. I didn’t want to carry his doubts as well.
I pondered doing it alone on that Monday. When I shared, my plans I could see his concern. And I asked him to share. So, he did. His main concerns were 1) Who else would be on the trail? 2) What if I needed aid? And I couldn’t come up with an answer or strategy that reduced his concerns. At one point he shared, “Look, there is nothing that you can say and nothing that can be put in place that will change my concerns.”
At that point, I went silent. I had nothing. Because the question in my head had shifted from okay “How do I honor this man who is my partner, my protector, my provider of so many things?” to “Is this race God assignment? If it is, how come he doesn’t see it? If this race is a God assignment, what happens if I do it without his support?”
So, on Sunday night I stood on Matthew 6:33. And trusted God to handle the rest. It was a God assignment when I signed up in January. And it had not changed. I’ve always loved this scene from the first Black Panther movie. And on Sunday night, I felt it. My God assigned purpose is not second to my love for this man.
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