This is Hard

The long awaited day had finally arrived. My nine-year-old daughter, Annie, was participating in a 5K run, designed to encourage and build-up young girls. She had practiced with her friends and coaches for months now, increasing her endurance for the big event. Like a good mom, I had signed myself up as her “Running Buddy.” My role was to run beside Annie and cheer her on. I was to adjust my pace to hers and remind her that she was strong and capable when her body and mind began to tell her she was too tired or in too much agony to continue. I was to be her calm reminder that the finish line was drawing closer with each step she took. All she had to do was just-keep-going. No problem.

Actually, there was one problem….. I never got around to training myself for the run. I had every intention to practice jogging in the weeks leading up to the race but life and excuses got in the way and I just didn’t take the time to prepare myself. While Annie was PUMPED and planning how we were going to get around all the slow runners, I was doubting my ability to finish the race at all without vomiting in the bushes.

Everyone gathered at the starting line. After the announcer counted us down, the starter gun fired and we were off. Annie grabbed my hand and immediately kicked into high gear. We zig-zagged between racers. She passed the walkers with confidence. She looked back at me several times with a determined grin on her face, shouting, “Come on Mom! Let’s run the whole thing!” I followed as the labored breathing began. “I’m not sure I can do this,” I thought to myself.

Eventually, Annie settled into a steady pace and we both grew quiet, except for our feet beating a rhythm on the pavement and my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. I was hurting. This was going to be a long race. I looked over at Annie and faked a smile. She did not smile back. In my best cheerleader voice, I said, “How ya doing?”

“Not good,” she replied seriously. “My chest hurts, my legs hurt, and even my arms hurt. This is too hard. I can’t do it. I have to stop.” Instantly, I identified with her in the pain she was experiencing and something interesting happened. I remembered my role as a “Running Buddy.” As we continued to run, my concern transitioned from myself to Annie. Step after step, for two more miles, I pumped Annie full of every encouraging word I could think to say. I reminded her that she was strong. I told her I was proud of how far she had come already. I helped her visualize that finish line that was getting closer and closer by the second. We set smaller goals and cheered ourselves for reaching them along the way. Whatever happened, I was not going to let her quit.

In hindsight, I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way, my pain became bearable as I poured into Annie. I still hurt, but loving Annie in action somehow increased my own endurance. I was determined to cross that finish line with Annie.

Victoriously, we did finish that race. For sure– there’s nothing quite as sweet as reaching goals together with people you love. We cheered. We gave high fives. We hugged. The pain of the race had disappeared and was replaced with sheer elation. Walking off the field, hand-in-hand, Annie proudly said, “Mom, I knew we could do it.”

“Me too!” I responded, joyfully.

Driving home that afternoon, as Annie slept in the back seat, I analyzed the events that had unfolded during those three miles. God began to speak to my heart about how this was a picture of how His church was supposed to operate. We were never meant to run the race of Christian life on our own. Yet so many believers isolate themselves from the body of Christ that they chose to be adopted into. When we distance ourselves from those who can most identify with us and encourage us to walk Christ-centered lives, the inevitable result will be a wavering hope in the One we confessed our hope in. The race gets too hard…. and we quit.

The writer of Hebrews wrote, “And let us be concerned about one another in order to promote love and good works, not staying away from our worship meetings, as some habitually do, but encouraging each other and all the more as you see the day drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:25)

In love, I humbly challenge you to consider whether you are in compliance with this Biblical command. I know what you might be thinking….because I think it too sometimes. You might be thinking, “I can worship Jesus on my own. I don’t have to be in a church with other Christians to love Jesus.” I can’t argue with that. But what if gathering with other believers regularly is not just about you. Every part of the body of Christ is clearly designed to operate in tandem with every other part. Sometimes you will need encouraging. At other times, you are expected to encourage and lift up others. Sometimes you are to give and receive encouragement simultaneously. Some of the most beautiful experiences I have ever known have been when, in obedience, my tired aching soul has reached out a hand to another hurting soul who reached back to me, and we leaned on each other, step-by-step hobbling toward the finish line where Jesus is.

How can we show concern for our brothers and sisters in Christ or encourage each other to live for Jesus in love and works, if we are habitually forsaking the gathering with others? We can’t.

Is this race getting long for you? Maybe you need to find a church full of Jesus-loving, Gospel-preaching, soul-lifting, “buddy-running” believers who do life the way we were supposed to. Is this race pretty easy for you? Maybe it’s time you looked around to find someone who’s hurting and remind them that the finish line is just around the corner.