I recently participated in a military-inspired mudrun. Now, let me tell you, this would not have been something I would have chosen to do. It’s not really my style. I tend to lean more toward tree-hugging than marching orders. A friend, however, had won tickets and wanted me to go. A little backstory for some that may not know it, which I’m sure are many: I have been ill for not only what seems like years, but for actual years. I have been unable to get through my days without pain and extreme fatigue (only those who have been sick know what this feels like…for those of you saying, “Yeah, I get tired too.” Nope, that’s not fatigue.) There have been many days I wasn’t able to get up to go to the bathroom by myself. My dear sweet hubby had to help me. I was told by a doctor to wait to have a child as he didn’t know where all this was gonna take me. That was about 5 years ago and let me say, it took me to the Battlegrounds Mudrun!
I need to remind someone today that God still does miracles and works through his favorite vessel: people. His children. He’s gonna show someone today, a number of people I’m guessing, that He is all you need.
I spent 5 years trying to figure things out on my own. It was incredibly frustrating as just when I thought I had something that would work (i.e. vitamins) I would end up unable to move my arms the next day. I got so weary in trying to be the one to fix me, to find that magic pill. (You don’t believe in those until you get really down, then you’ll try anything.)
I ran my first 5K, which has been on my bucket list since prior to getting sick, this summer. I truly believe the enemy knew what a freedom there was for me in running. Chains fall when you realize the freedom you have. As a good friend told me right before I was healed, the chains were at my feet, I just had to step out of them. And that’s what I did. I stepped, I ran, I stomped through the mud.
We all need a different perspective. When I ran before the mudrun, some of the tiniest bumps in the road were pretty big obstacles. I had a fear that I would take myself out, so to speak, and injure my ankle or knee or leg or eyebrow. I would have to rehab and I’d be unable to run. I’d end up in that SBR (“Stupid Blue Recliner” See previous post.) again for months or years. But God showed me how much I was capable of this past weekend. Sick people don’t run 5 miles in 44 degree weather or go down 100 ft water slides into 8 feet of chilly water. Incapable individuals don’t run through creeks or hoist themselves up muddy hillsides with mud-covered ropes. They surely don’t climb pallet walls and jump from uncomfortable heights. Those were real obstacles, not just bumps in the road. What was God saying to me? *tap tap tap. “Hey, you’re not sick.” I didn’t have to worry about the tiny obstacles in the road because I was healed to conquer much, much bigger ones!
I sit here getting very emotional as I understand how the woman with the blood issue or the leper or the man with the withered hand must have felt. Healed? What does that mean? What can I do now that I couldn’t before? I now understand that light-as-air feeling they experienced in their hearts and bodies, but couldn’t explain to others. No one could ever understand like I do what God did for me or how I felt at the finish line wearing that muddy medal on Oct. 4th, 2014. Keep believin’, there’s a plan, I believe that with all my heart. Praying for those who’ve been ill for extended periods of time today.