The Marathon

     This is a marathon... this fight for Janie's recovery.  But then, life is a marathon, isn't it?  A marathon that requires patience (not my strong suit) and perseverance and the refusal to quit when the going gets tough.  And it will.
     I'm thinking back to my one and only marathon way back when I was in law school--that would be before the earth's crust cooled.  I had done all the long runs and training that were supposed to prepare you for the marathon, so I went to Washington, DC for the marathon, excited and totally ready.  Or so I thought.
     My two sisters, Mary Norris and Jane (yep, Janie's amazing namesake--my girl has a lot to live up to!), accompanied me to the race.  They had apparently mapped out an intricate plan of cheering for me at the start of the race, jumping on the subway and racing to another location along the route and cheering so more and then back onto the subway to the next spot for more cheering.  I have an amazing family.  Amazing is actually far too mild of a word.
     So things were lookin' good at the start.  I was running and smiling and thinking this was just such a terrific idea... and, O, look, there's the Lincoln Memorial and isn't it lovely running along the Potomac River... and I just love Washington, DC.  Life was good.
     Just when I started to tire just a little bit, there would be Mary Norris and Jane, popping up and yelling things like "You can do it!  Remember the Fightin' Tarheels!  Remember James Worthy!" (this was not long after the UNC Tarheels had won their first national basketball championship.  Like I said life was good.)  And so I'd smile and run on.  Until the next time they would suddenly appear again at  another spot.  Now that I look back on it, I'm thinking they worked far harder than I did that morning.
     But I was still running along and feeling fine and had only a couple of miles to go.  That was nothing with all the long training runs I had taken.  And then suddenly, there it was--I hit the dreaded "wall."  One minute I'm running along thinking about how much salad and pasta and chocolate cake I'm going to be eating after finishing this race, and the next, I simply cannot put another foot in front of the other.  I'm totally exhausted.  And I mean exhausted.  Empty, spent, dead... and I cannot go on.  Less than two miles to go, all that training, all that desire, and I can't do it.  I just can't finish the race.
     And then, there they were: my sisters.  Yelling, cheering, but suddenly concerned when they see me and I tell them I can't do it.  I'm spent and done.  They try to rouse me but even visions of fighting Tarheels can't help me now.  I'm finished.
     Well, I thought I was anyway.  For that's when my sisters went into action and started jogging beside me.  Wearing down jackets and blue jeans and carrying enormous pocketbooks (trust me, not ideal running attire),  they jogged along beside me, encouraging me, while their big purses banged along their sides.   One little boy yelleed, "Hey Mom, look at those ladies!  They're running with purses!"  Well, you never know when you might need some chapstick or a debit card.  My wonderful sisters jogged most of the last mile and a half with me all the way till I could see the finish line in the distance and realized I could make it after all.
     And that is what they are still doing today, nearly 30 years later.  In this hospital.  In this long marathon fight for Janie.  My sisters, my brothers, my dear friends--an formidable army of friends, my children, they are all standing in the gap when strength flags and hope flees.  They are there to remind us when we forget, that God is forever faithful and that we are not alone in this long race.  They are there to remind us, as Thomas Edison once said, "When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this: you haven't."  They are there to love us and do a thousand different things to help us.  They are there to send emails and texts at just the right moment when we need it the most--all because an Almighty Sovereign Lord knew the perfect timing for their words to arrive and revive.  It's happened over and over again, and it simply amazes me... my Mighty God astounds me.
     Just yesterday afternoon, I hit the wall with Janie's latest setback.  And I truly felt for a moment that I couldn't keep running the race.  I was so battle-weary and worn and the finish line seemed so impossibly far ahead.  But God sent in the calvary;  He sent in another edition of the Warrior Sisters in the marathon!  He sent an email from a friend that said the precise words God knew that I needed.  And He sent my sweet family sitting in here with Janie just being calm and strong and faithful.  He sent my encouraging husband.  He even sent me a hilarious phone call from a friend that returned the joyous gift of laughter to an exhausted heart.
     He just keeps sending and helping and undergirding and enabling and empowering and loving.  And suddenly the discouragement and weariness weaken their fierce grip, and I know I can keep running and keep fighting the good fight of faith.
     "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race marked out for us, looking to Jesus,  the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider Him who endured such hostility against Himself so that you do not grow weary and fainthearted." (Heb.12:1-3)
     Lord, might we all look unto You as we run this marathon.  For we are all running a long, hard race in one way or another.  Forgive us when we look to other people's races with envy--help us to run our race, the race You, in Your infinite grace and love, have marked out for us. And when we grow weary, thank You for sending in reinforcements in so many ways to keep us running.  Thank You for running alongside us every step of the way, cheering us on in Your Word and by Your Spirit.  Keep us focused upon You, Lord Jesus, so that we will not flag or fail to finish this race strong.  You did it... and we can too--all for Your glory and all by Your grace.  And thank You for the priceless gifts of family and friends that help us and encourage us all along the way.
     No, we won't stop running... not you, not me, not ever.  Not with Jesus by our side.  Not until we reach His glorious finish line when all this running and suffering and struggling will be so worth it.  To God, to our Savior, who ran the race before us and for us, be all the glory.