I know we all have busy lives...and I am not trying to compare but sometimes I feel like I am swimming upstream against my task list. I decided that this blog would not be apart of that, but more of an art to enjoy when I can. So, with that new perspective...my posts might be less frequent but not forgotten or abandoned.
I have had a story on my heart that I have wanted to share. A few weekends ago, my husband signed the whole family up for a 5K race. Let me clarify, he signed me and the baby for the 5K and he was going to run the 10K with our two kids...he is a stud of course. Race day came and I was not excited. I am a college athlete, prepared for every athletic competition, but by no means prepared for this one. I want to be in the front of the line, winning, breathing hard and admired for my athleticism. But, with bad knees and three babies, running wasn't an option for me. As we arrived on race day...which was cold and rainy...I put little bit (Anna, 5 months) in her pouch and brought the stroller and a sour perspective. When I arrived at the start line I could feel the excitement of everyone. There was laughing, music and my attitude began to change. I thought...okay...I know I won't be in the front, but I am still a stud, right? I mean I am carrying a baby and walking the dog while pushing a stroller. Maybe I will just speed past all the walkers and draw admiration for the heavy load I carry.
So the race begun, and I started out strong. I passed several people, and was hauling. I caught up with some friends I knew who were chit chatting through a nice stroll. They began talking to me and I quickly replied and kept going. I mean...I didn't have time for conversation...I still had more people to beat!! I continued on...leaving them behind and passed 20, 40 and then 50 walkers and some runners who had stopped to take a break. At about halfway I met up with my husband. He was a little crippled with a stroller that tires had gone flat and two kids, so he wasn't running at his normal pace. When Grace saw me (our preschooler) she wanted to join me in the race. I was happy to invite her and knew Cliff needed the relief, so she hopped out of the stroller while Elijah and Cliff continued on.
With Grace, Anna and the dog...I was still determined to pick up the pace. As we hit mile three I noticed Grace slowing down a bit...I encouraged her to practice her "running" to keep up, but that ended in a fall. I stopped. I helped her up and held her as she cried. At the same time, people began passing us one by one. We continued on, and then another fall....Grace is crying. And we stop. Again more people pass. At this point, my pursuit of advancing looks dim...very dim.
But in the moment God spoke to me.
He reminded me that I didn't need to "win" or what I saw as "winning", but Grace needed to finish well. And she wouldn't be able to if I didn't stop to help her, teach her, and guide her.
There is always a race. Whether it is the race to be the best "mom" or have the best "career" or "ministry." There is always a race. But the only race that matters is the one God has called us to...to be more like him, and he didn't come to be first, but last. He came to serve not to be served. And motherhood is just that. Constantly putting aside the task at the moment and choosing to help my children and teach them, so they can thrive and grow and be all they can for God.
Grace, Anna, the dog and I finished almost last. It took us a long time, over one hour for a 5K! I was okay with it though. My life was more full helping my babies then finishing alone.
