You're My Hope Forever, The Rock Where I Stand
we build, the lives we live. If you think about it, those foundations are all about preparation.
For 5 months now, since the Saturday morning I officially registered for the Georgia Jewel, I've been preparing to run this race. I've run more miles than I've ever run per month. I've attempted some difficult trail runs; five months ago I'd never run on a trail before. And I swear I should be standing on the moon after the number of steps I've climbed. My preparation leaves me feeling confident for my race tomorrow. Without the preparation, I wouldn't have much hope.
If preparation is part of the building blocks in the foundation, hope stems from it. If we've prepared the foundation of our house just right, we can be hopeful our house won't sink or blow away. When we live our lives preparing the best we can for the next moment, we can be hopeful about tomorrow. Where we are today, who we are, the choices we're making and the character we're building, it's all helping identify where we'll stand tomorrow.
Here's the thing, though. We can only be SO prepared. Storms come our way in life that exceed our preparation. The heat is more than I bargained for in a trail race - mother nature's winds are stronger than the foundation of my house can withstand - nothing in the world can prepare me for a cancer diagnosis. The reality is, some things we just can't prepare for, but that doesn't mean the stem of hope has to wilt.
In preparing for the Georgia Jewel, I've leaned on my faith in God. I've leaned on the reality that I've failed miserably in races before, and God has cultivated beauty and bigger purposes from all those failures. In life, God's taken the darkest days of my life and raised from them opportunities to know and share love that would have been impossible otherwise. God has become the one foundation on which all of my foundations in life rest; my running foundation, my house foundation and my life foundation - they all rest on the my faith in God.
I have a vision for how my race will finish tomorrow. It's quite simple, really - I want to cross the finish line before the 12 hour time limit is up. I want to drive back home to Virginia telling myself over and over - I did it. That's my vision. Life doesn't always go my way, though. My faith in God says life doesn't have to go my way - and in truth - my faith says my way is very seldom the best way for life to go.
I'll line up tomorrow. I'm confident. I'm prepared. I have a strong foundation built under this race. I plan to see my vision through. If for some reason I don't, I'll be disappointed. But you know what the ultimate cure for disappointment is - it's hope. No matter what happens tomorrow, the rock on which I stand, the hope that stems from it, that rock will be as solid as ever.