Run to Jesus

Life is hard. It’s almost cliché to say it, but it’s true. School didn’t prepare me for just how hard life would be. Adults told me it was hard, but I simply assumed their life was the exception to the norm. Normal life was supposed to be easy if you tried hard enough, made good decisions, and did your best to treat people right.

Maybe life was hard for people because they didn’t go to church. By God’s good grace, I go to church, I read my bible, I pray, etc. But guess what? Life is still hard. Really hard, actually. Harder than I ever could’ve imagined. What a fool I was to assume my life would be smooth and easy because I’m a Christian. Jesus didn’t promise a smooth, comfortable life. Instead, He promised capital L, Life, and fullness of joy – but He didn’t promise one without suffering.

And thank God for that.

 

I Love-Hate Running

I started running nine months ago, and it’s now become one of my favorite hobbies. Not only has it allowed me to burn a little excess fat, which was quickly blossoming as my metabolism has slowed, but it has also taught me a thing or two about perseverance amidst pain and suffering. This past year has been, without question, the hardest year of my entire life. So perhaps it’s no coincidence that I started running this year and have gleaned the lessons it’s provided.

The truth is, even though I’ve now run consistently for nine months, I still have a love-hate relationship with running. Most days I look forward to it – crave it, even. But, some days it takes everything in me to work up the motivation to lace up my running shoes and hit the pavement. And then when I do, every step feels like a chore – an unceasing, breathtaking, pain-inducing burden that makes me regret my resolve and floods my mind with the temptation to quit.

I love running. But, sometimes I hate it.

 

I Hate-Love Suffering

I now view suffering in life very similarly to running, though in reverse. I’m developing a hate-love relationship with it. Most days I dread it. The pain, the confusion, the anger – I just want it all to go away. I want the sun to rise and shed light in the corners of my heart where I’ve been cultivating darkness. I want God to speak again and utterly extinguish the confusion and doubt that’s clouded my judgment and shaken my faith. But, I love what the pain is producing in me. Sometimes the progress is difficult to see, impossible to measure. And though it rarely feels worth the trouble, I know it’s in my best interest, as God is refining me through it and pointing me toward Jesus.

I hate suffering. But, sometimes I love it.

 

Our Thoughts Matter

The most important lesson running teaches me about pain and suffering is that my thoughts matter. Running isn’t just physical. If I want to persevere through the pain of running and stretch myself to run faster and farther, then mental toughness matters, and more especially the object of my thoughts as I’m running matters.

There are days when I run a route that’s no different from the one I ran the day before. Instead, the route is one I’ve run consistently for months, and so you would think I would be used to it by now. And some days I am. Some days I run that route and feel it nearly too easy, only the slightest of a challenge. But, the very next day that exact same route, even at the same pace, feels as though it will drain every ounce of life and joy out of my body.

I’ve learned that the difference in the two runs boils down to what I was focused on during those runs. For the overly challenging run, I couldn’t take my mind off the pain. Every step was a reminder of my discomfort, the ache in my legs and shortness of breath, and all I could think about was pain and wanting the run to be over.

On the other hand, when I’m able to focus on the beautiful scenery around me – the view over a hilltop, blooming Spring flowers, a group of deer feeding in a yard – the run feels less painful and even goes by more quickly. It’s not that the pain is absent, though. It’s just that something more appealing has laid hold of my attention, and I end up running toward that.

This has been an important lesson for me to learn. When things get hard, and we enter into seasons of pain and suffering in our lives, our thought process – what our minds are focused on during that pain – matters immensely. Unfortunately, though, we tend to focus only on what’s immediately in front of us, which is pain and heartache.

And, when we dwell on the extremity of our pain and how much we long for the season of suffering to end, it actually makes the season feel longer. Harder. Worse than that, focusing on the pain can cause us to question and doubt God, to accuse Him of wrongdoing. I believe God gives us the freedom to be angry and confused in our suffering, but we cross the line when we actually accuse Him of injustice. And for me at least, focusing on my pain has caused me to do this.

In running, though, when something more appealing, something more desirable than the pain grabs hold of my attention, the pain itself fades to the back of my mind and I’m able to more easily persevere and finish the run. Not just finish it, I’m able to actually enjoy the run, despite the pain. In those moments, I’m running for something more, I’m running for something bigger than the pain I feel.

In seasons of suffering, pain appears to be the only thing before us, but it’s not. There’s actually something – or rather, Someone – before us who’s far more appealing, far more attention-holding than our pain. Standing before us, is a gracious and loving God, arms wide open, ready to embrace. Before us, is everlasting Life, purchased for us by the pain and suffering of Jesus – a suffering He is said to have endured for the joy that was set before Him.

He is our great example.

He’s not just our example, though. He showed us how to endure pain for a greater joy, but more than that He is, Himself, the very joy set before us. He is the only One who could ever be worthy enough, beautiful enough, desirable enough to grab our attention away from the pain, so that we would persevere.

And so, this is my prayer now, that when I run life’s race and the pain feels as though it will end me – when the pain is all I can dwell on – I pray Jesus would be the true object of my affections. May He be greater in my mind, the very Joy set before me, so that when I run, I run to Jesus.