If 3.1 miles wasn’t already enough for someone who’s High School cross country days exceed her by almost a decade; add 18+ obstacles and…MUD! Now while these may look like the ingredients to shin splints, muscle spasms, and calf aches (which trust me it is) this is the description of the Mud Run that I participated in earlier this year. Project Mud was held at the Charleston Tea Plantation in Charleston, SC; beautiful scenery but that didn’t make the run any easier. I registered late, trained late, and arrived later than I had initially planned. The obstacles were even harder than I expected. Although fun, I don’t have much experience is crawling through barbed wire, scaling walls, or many of the other obstacles that were presented. If it wasn’t for my husband agreeing to run the race with me I may still be standing staring at some of the walls wondering how I’ll get over them. The race was in April (2013) but lately I’ve felt like I’ve been on a never ending mud run…
An ER visit and 6 doctor’s appointments later we found ourselves once again in the ER wonder WHY? In the last month and a half my son has been seen for an ear infection, regular immunization/ check up appointments, and a few (stressful) allergy appointments. We have had some scary skin reactions and have not yet found the source. This past weekend I found myself shoulder deep in the weight of it all as I watched my son’s face begin to swell worse than ever before. Any parent knows that seeing your child struggle can be a difficult task. As I watched my son struggle I couldn’t help but immediately wonder what we as parents were doing wrong. What are we feeding him that is causing his little body to weaken, what environmental cause is at hand, what liquids or part of nature are we unknowingly exposing him to?? Hadn’t he had enough? Surprisingly as I felt broken he seems content with playing “one two buckle my shoe” on his father’s phone as we headed to the ER. I felt the ‘barbed wire’ of discourage, the ‘mud pit’ of weakening, and the anger spasm inside of me. This is where it got interesting. In the middle of our assigned room I closed my eyes ignored everyone’s voice and questions and had myself an outspoken conversation with Christ which started with “I Know you’re here and I know you can hear me…” While the statement may seem like a statement of disrespect let me assure you that this was a statement of faith. I needed not only God to hear this but I needed to speak this into existence myself. I needed faith to be restored in a moment where I could not see the end of the race.
“I know you’re here and I know you can hear me. I need you to fix my son; our son. I need you to show us the reason. I know you have already planned the future and you know the cause. My faith is in you alone and I know that you can handle this. Right now I want nothing more than the wisdom to remain faithful until we get to the future that you already know.”
My tears immediately stopped falling and as I opened my eyes I felt myself on the other side of the wall able to finish this race. After we were blessed with a visiting friend (whose family we are so thankful for) our son slept so sweetly in that hospital bed and my husband and I laid the bible over his right hand and started studying the book of James. While we both respect the personnel in the medical field there was nothing they could have said to us that would have been stronger than the word of God.
I recently read in a book that we need to “know God and not just know about him”. It didn’t matter if that passage matched up with our current situation all that mattered was that inside the bible tucked away in my purse we found the CURE. We’re still in the ‘mud run’ but we are gonna handle every obstacle knowing that he’s already overcome it for us.
With Grace and Love,