Hurdling

So in case you didn't know this about me there was a time in my life when I was in great shape. I know, I know that is so hard to believe, but when I was in high school my sport of choice was track and field. I actually attended college on a track scholarship before Dave and I moved to Dallas so he could attend Chiropractic college. I had always been a fast runner. As far back as I can remember I was usually the fastest runner in school. In kindergarten I ran faster than all the boys. First grade it was the same. Second grade, third, fourth, etc. etc. It was just my thing. I could challenge anyone to a race across the playground and more than likely I was assured a victory. There came a time in junior high school where my coach challenged me to do more than just sprint. He wanted me to learn to run the hurdles. He was convinced that if I could just learn to 3 step those 100m hurdles there was no way anyone else could beat me. Even though he and my dad held on to this belief I myself was not so sure. They honestly wanted me to not only run faster than the others in my field but to also out jump them. So off I went.

I remember my very first race. It was not pretty! I think I actually knocked over more than I jumped. I came off the track bloodied and humiliated, but more determined than ever to learn how to jump those things. My dad built me a set of practice hurdles. I remember coming home from school and setting them up in the yard. I would do stretches. I would do drills. I would do sprints. Over and over again I would work on those home made hurdles. The more I practiced the more determined I became to learn how to win at those silly things. It didn't take long before I began to place in a few races. Then I actually won a couple. Before I knew what had happened to me I was not only running the 100meter hurdles but also the 300s. My first year as a hurdler I qualified to run them at the state meet.

So you may be wondering why I am sharing all of this with you. As Dave and I spent a few moments talking this weekend he brought it up. He asked me if I thought that our experience with Ashley's life reminded me of being a hurdler. I had never really thought of it like that before, but he was right. I was happily sprinting through my race of motherhood. Doing an ok job and winning most races that I entered during this part of my life when all of a sudden my Ashley was born. Now I had always wanted to add another child to my race of motherhood. I had actually been asking God to prepare me to do this and to give me this child. What I wasn't prepared for was being asked to hurdle rather than sprint. Sprinting through my race of motherhood I was already good at. My faith in God was always there leading me along and strengthening me, but hurdling? now that was going to take a whole different kind of faith. A faith that I never even considered I could have. Being Ashley's mommy came easy to me. Loving this tiny gift from God was a lot like sprinting. It was just something I was born to do. The hurdling part came into play when they told us she had short bowel syndrome. Ok, I can do this. I am a hurdler right? Then came the liver failure. Ok, I can do this too, instead of one hurdle on the track I now have two. Then before I could make it over the second hurdle I looked up and saw another one coming. Transplant. I can do this. My faith and my endurance are being strengthened. As I continue in the race I close my eyes and grit my teeth as I run as hard as I can. It seems as though the race is never going to end. I open my eyes and then guess what I see? another one coming. Cardiac arrest. By this time I am tired. I am running out of steam. I can feel myself slowing down and my faith NEEDS to be strengthened. If I am going to win this race I need to make up some ground. I have been knocking a few of those hurdles down along the way. I have to clear this one. No bobbles. Then I look up and see something ahead of me. It looks like a finish line, but I am still so very far away from it. It seems as though I have been given a little more distance between this last hurdle. I am feeling encouraged. I am sprinting toward the finish line. My Ashley is breathing well and she is finally on full feeds. I can feel my faith becoming stronger and stronger as I edge toward the goal. I approach the next hurdle. It seems so much bigger than the last. It really isn't. I am just tired. This next hurdle is ugly. I can tell it has been knocked over a time or two before. Cancer. Are you kidding? Do I have enough steam left to carry my Ashley over this hurdle and on to the finish? I realize I do not. My strength is gone and I begin to slow. It almost seems as though I am running in slow motion. I am no longer sprinting. I have begun to jog. Almost walk. As I edge closer and closer to this next hurdle with the goal of the finish line on ahead I need something more than just a desire to win. I need faith. Real faith. I not only need faith, but I need Him to take over the race. My legs are done. My feet are aching. If Ash and I are going to cross that finish line it can't be just the two of us breaking that tape. It has to be HIM. He has to cross that line with us in tow.

This race is the longest and hardest race that I have ever run. When I entered the race I was confident in my ability to win. There have been some hurdles in my lane that I look back over my shoulder at and I can't believe that we have made it over them. Now there is the hurdle of the cancer she faces looming before us. I am surprised at how high this hurdle actually is. I realize that the only way we are going to put it behind us is through our faith and trust in the Father. He is the one that allowed me to enter into this race in the first place. At times I have forced Him to run in the lane along side of me. At other times I have allowed Him to run ahead of me. At this time I need Him to pick us up and get us over the hurdle that is in front of us.

Chemotherapy is looming ahead of us in this race to the finish. It is an ugly hurdle and it is a high hurdle. My faith in Him tells me that there is no hurdle too high for Him to help us get over.