When You Feel Like a Failure
This morning I thought it'd be a good idea to go for a run in the snow.
Big mistake. Never do that.
I spent the majority of my time in the wilderness hyperventilating (sadly, out of shape) and grumbling about how cold my little toes were.
I quickly became so focused on my own comfort. My own needs. My exhaustion.
And I failed to notice the traces of holy fingerprints and glimpses of grace around me.
I thought nothing but negative of the purely white, new fallen snow. I was in no way in awe of the fawn I saw bounding through a field. I didn't take the time to notice His presence in the seclusion.
But then, I fell. I slipped in the slush. And of course I got frustrated. And bruised my bum.
Considering my lack of coordination, I should have expected it.
But after throwing a little fit, the sun shone through the trees. And I was reminded of the glimpse I was getting of heaven.
I was challenged to hit pause on complaining + to realize that this little jog is kind of like the race of life we run.
It's often uncomfortable. We slip. We fall. We bruise. We struggle. We complain. We stink sometimes.
But along the way, we are given dancing glimmers of hope. To press on. To keep going. To look up. And notice His presence in the midst of the ice, the cold, and the exhaustion.
So let's go for a run. And keep running until the day His face shines on us.