 |
| Poppies have hope. They're my favorite flower. |
I have developed a piriformis injury ('pain in the butt' is apropos) in my right hip that is not going away. It really hurts when I run. Especially when I run sprints and hills. And that's not such good news for training and, you know, running a little thing called a M A R A T H O N.
Originally I was thinking this post would be kind of Job-esque. You can't always figure out suffering, blessing, and the ways of God. (Shoot, I think I'm 0 for 1,000,000 for figuring out the ways of God.) You plan and dream for a marathon, pray, and you still get injured. Life is like that too. So what does that all mean?
This evening I was talking to my beautiful, awesome daughter and advising her to not give up hope about some things she's struggling with. Never give up hope, I said. Just don't do it (contrary to what Nike says). Choose not to. And as I was taking a shower this evening, it occurred to me that I needed to take my own advice.
I have hope for this marathon, I really do. More hope than if I didn't have an injury.
Hope doesn't mean I'm assured my injury will miraculously disappear. Although, if that happens, I won't complain a bit. It doesn't even mean, and it pains me (literally) to say this, that I'll be able to run the marathon this February. It means that it will all be okay. In higher ways than I can know now - it will be okay. There may be more Februaries in my life to run marathons, or I may be running them on streets of gold sooner than I expected. Either way I musn't give up hope.
From the American soldier held by the Japanese army in a WWII PoW camp to the 42 year-old mother of two who has a little marathon planned in February... hope is an important belief. It's the life-giving, all-important assurance that it will be okay.
Hope is my lovely daughter's name. Yeah, that's not a coincidence.
I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
