Aside from the intense physical pain, running is all mental. One of the toughest things for me (after getting my butt off the couch and out the door!) is running a training route with which I'm unfamiliar. If I don't know the route, somehow it seems twice as long, neverending. Doubts begin to plague my mind. "Am I lost?" "Did I miss the turn?" "Will this ever end?"
The adoption journey feels a bit like that unfamiliar training route. I have a general idea of the direction we're going, but no clue how long it will take. The finish line is out of sight, hidden behind the hills and valleys of international bureaucracy. Few cheering crowds on this race - long stretches of silence accompany the pounding of my heart. "Am I lost?" "Did I miss the turn?" "Will this ever end?"
Fortunately, as with the mini-marathon training, I have an encouragement group to speak into the silence with a pat on the back, a word of support, a prayer. And I'm reminded that adoption, and parenting for that matter, is a marathon, not a sprint. One foot in front of the other, step by step, fixing my eyes on Jesus.
We finished!
Kim and I after the 2010 Indianapolis Mini-Marathon.
Kim and I after the 2010 Indianapolis Mini-Marathon.
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 (Hebrews 12:1).
