Run Like You’re Meant To Run
Alright, friend, I’m mighty glad you took a lil’ moment to wander up on this front porch. Now go on and settle yourself into that squeaky ol’ rocking chair that sounds like a cranky cricket fussin’ about bein’ woke up too early. And flick that fat gnat buzzin’ around your face because we’re about to step off into a truth so sweet it could outshine your grandma’s best fig preserves. Hebrews 12:1 tells us, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” And to deepen this truth even more, Psalm 55:22 reminds us, “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you.” And friend, to anchor this even deeper, let’s weave in Isaiah 40:31, “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.” Now that trio right there is like discoverin’ a jittery lil’ chipmunk has been sneakin’ off to learn clog dancin’ behind the woodpile. It plum changes everything.
Paul paints a picture of a runner tryin’ to sprint with a heavy weight tied to his waist and chains wrapped around his legs. That runner ain’t winnin’ anything except maybe a pulled hamstring and a bruised ego. And truth be told, that’s exactly how many of us try to run this Christian race. We drag old hurts behind us like a stubborn mule that refuses to budge. We let guilt cling to us like burrs stuck to a hound dog’s tail. And we let bitterness wrap around our hearts like thick vines chokin’ a fence post till we can barely breathe.
The authors Thrall, McNicol, and Lynch remind us in True Faced that sin shows up in two forms. There are the sins we commit that weigh us down with guilt, and there are the sins committed against us that bruise us deep where no one else can see. Both kinds can trip us up quicker than a jittery groundhog that keeps waddlin’ back to the same vegetable patch even after bein’ chased off with a broom. If guilt is left alone, it spreads through the heart like wildfire racin’ across dry prairie grass. And if hurt goes unattended, it settles in like winter frost, stiffenin’ everything it touches until joy can barely wiggle. And friend, you just can’t run the race God marked out for you when your soul is limpin’ along like an old wagon with one wheel wobblin’ sideways tryin’ to make it up a rough gravel hill.
That’s why Hebrews 12:1 tells us to throw it off. Not drag it. Not negotiate with it. Throw it off. Psalm 55:22 tells us exactly where to throw it. Cast it on the Lord. And Isaiah 40:31 reminds us that when we do, He renews our strength. He carries what crushes you. He untangles what binds you. He lightens what weighs you down.
Father, You know the race I need to run. I confess that I’ve let burdens weigh me down and sins, both mine and those done against me, trip me up. Help me throw off everything that hinders. Renew my strength. Help me run free, steady, and strong. In Jesus name, Amen.
Now, friend, as you head right back into your day, don’t forget that you were never meant to run with chains rattlin’ around your ankles. We are once again reminded of that certainty in Psalm 18:32 that tells us, “It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.” So, be assured that God wants you movin’ like a deer that leaps through the forest with ease. He wants you steady like an old cedar tree rooted so deep even the fiercest prairie wind can’t boss it around. And He wants you free like a wild creek breakin’ loose after a spring thaw, rushin’ forward without anything holdin’ it back. So, go boldly on ahead now. Shake off the dust. Throw off the weight. And run your race with joy in realizin’ that the Lord Himself is cheerin’ you on every blessed step of the way.
With joy,
Gwen
