By keeping the nose to the grindstone,
feet could be slipping away from the Cornerstone.
I ran my second (and final) half marathon in 2017. I ran it on a whim, without serious distance training, which was the formation of the idea. The thought was to see how I could run based on endurance already developed and improved strength. Basically, could strength carry me the distance?
Yes, I completed the 13.1 miles, and I think I even improved overall time and pace; but none of that seems to matter as I reflect back these years later. What stands out to me is how low I felt when I crossed the finish line. And not low, like tired, but low like sad, and not a sorrow that glimmers from mourning the end of a season, but a hollow that cried out, “what was that for, and what now?” It seems strange to understand running toward a marked line as aimless, but that is exactly what it was – a striving that spawned from boredom, a vain pursuit that didn’t connect to anything or benefit anyone.
Sometimes reflection is actually confrontation with empty ways of life that have us perpetually running away from something but never running toward anything real.
The world tells us, “Only the strong survive.” And so we keep pushing, keep doing, keep lowering our nose to the grindstone. But if our heads are down, how do we see where we are going?
Moving but aimless get us nowhere.
Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” And so we keep growing because we are bowing low on the cornerstone. Our true strength comes from a posture; our hearts are open to seek and find the plans and paths already marked out for us.
Following but purposeful gets us home.
