press on

November 24, 2020

This morning I decided to start a Couch to 5K program. I don't know why. I'll blame it on the cold temperature that shocked my brain.

As I was nearing the end of the 20 minutes of "run then walk", a couple of times I would quit the run just two or three seconds before the notification to walk. I immediately thought.."oh my gosh, I was almost done! Why did I quit?!" I could have physically kept going, but my mind was telling me I couldn't. 

I thought about this journey of grief.

It's dark. It's long. The terrain is full of hills and valleys.

There is an overwhelming push towards giving up. When grief comes like a tidal wave that leaves me crying in the kitchen floor overcome by anxiety and panic, giving up seems the best and only choice. 

This has been a traumatic experience to say the least. It feels like dad was ripped from us. There was no preparation. I didn't have the chance to lay this all out in my mind. To make sense of what would happen.

The GriefShare email I received on Sunday had this quote in it:

“You will make it through,” says Beth, whose husband died. “It’s like a deep tunnel, and you’re in the middle of the tunnel. There’s no light at all, and you don’t think you’re going to make it. But if you just keep pressing on toward the Lord, you will make it to the end. That is a promise.”

I am in the midst of a deep tunnel. But I will make it through. My mind may tell me I can't. My body may be exhausted. But..

“But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength … ” (2 Timothy 4:17)