Don't Waste the Pain

This week, I started running again for the first time since I stress fractured my foot several years ago. I could have started sooner, but something mentally wouldn't cooperate with the idea of running again. I made excuses, gained weight, and lost energy. Which is why on Monday, my brain didn't get much say in the decision. It was more a "get on the treadmill and don't think about it" moment. Those seem to be the most productive moments.

Today, I ran one mile, then walked two outside. It was freezing cold and every step felt amazing. My legs are sore now. Like really sore, to the point that last night in my dreams, I was alone on a street where I couldn't walk because my legs hurt so bad.

Yet, something about that discomfort feels good. Forward motion. Growth.

I thought to myself, "I don't want to stop growing in distance and building endurance, because then I would be wasting all this pain. I have to keep running."

And then I thought about how that applies to life. Painful things have the potential of fueling growth--of pushing us into new dimensions, urging us to ignore the emotions that say it's too hard. However, potential doesn't mean anything unless it is seized.

I have to make a choice. The "easier" thing would be to not run at all--to let the current muscle pain AND the painful memory of a broken foot stop me.

But is that really easier? Fifty years from now, will I really be telling people, "I'm so glad I stopped running! I'm so glad I didn't work to expand my lungs, to strengthen my heart, to build my muscles!" Absolutely not. It would probably be more along the lines of, "If I would have just paid the price, pushed past the season of pain...I would still be able to climb mountains and cross big rivers in a canoe. And I wouldn't be on all this medication." That sounds way harder than just disciplining myself to eat right and exercise.

Big picture, Caitlin. Big picture.

I WANT my story to include me climbing mountains into old age. A story where I have paid a price, choosing the narrow way, not because I have a martyr complex, but because I am a VICTOR. That well into my elder years, my spirit is strong and pouring out the wisdom from the journey--the abundant life of the Holy Spirit. That I will have stories to tell the next generation about the fruit of courage and the brilliance of following Jesus, ESPECIALLY in the painful seasons, where discomfort feels like it is eternal.

The truth is, with Jesus in my life, discomfort can't be eternal. Even if every day in this life is hard in the natural, there is such an overwhelming joy in the hope to come--the promise of forever with Him. The eternal perspective that whispers, "the price you pay here on earth is nothing compared to the glories of eternity." Standing for Him--that's what I want to be remembered for by my Father. That determination is gonna cost me something. The narrow road is gonna continue costing me--popularity, time, friends.

But the reward is so great. To live as a daughter, without fear of man. Nothing better.

It's so worth it. It's so worth it.

Don't waste the pain. Push through. There is such glory on the other side of obedience.