Watching all of the amazing Olympic athletes at the 2014 Winter Games, it’s easy to be swept up in their dreams of gold.
My own dreams of being the very best me that I can be, physically, financially, and mentally, take flight.
The dedication necessary to make it to that level of achievement is obvious. Not just because these athletes have made it to the pinnacle of their careers, but because you know how much sweat equity has gone into arriving there. Among other things.
And it fires me up.
Until, of course, I hit a bump in the road.
Because I’m dedicated like that.
As soon as an injury (to body or pride) sidelines me, or an illness (of mind or body) makes getting back into the race on my schedule impossible, I have a pity party. Like an Olympian.
Oh, yes indeedy!
When that pity party finally winds down, though, I get good and angry.
And that anger? That’s exactly what clues me in to the fact that I’m relying on my own strength to succeed.
It’s usually right about then that I realize how desperately I need to get down on my knees and bow my head in reverence to the One who gives me every ounce of determination that I have.
That anger is a reminder to recall each and every benefit that God has already given to me. Whether I’m near to reaching my goal or am even able to take another earthly step in its direction.
My heart, once so eager to succeed in it’s own strength, is no longer. It becomes eager, again, to please The Only One who can give me the strength to carry on.
These truths renew me. They empower me to move forward as loved, redeemed, and ultimately, more than a conqueror.
And one who’s not ready to quit just yet.