Because that’s who we are—unstoppable runners who will tackle any obstacle.
Who cares it’s early and cold out? A little chill can’t diffuse our excitement for ROCKING this race. We are the champions.
Cue Chariots of Fire music.
But the caption for the picture around Mile Two would read, “My Legs are Falling Off!” and “Hold Me!” At least that’s what some of our kids were saying around then.
Or maybe that would be me.
This is our family, though. We are idealists, dreamers, easily inspired, and so hopeful. We are an excitable group, excited by life, and READY TO DO EXCITING THINGS!
To be honest, this is really half of our family. Half of us embrace change, we are the ones who meet new friends everywhere we go, who take risks, who passionately run after dreams, and live life at 110%.
We are the group who could have serious gambling addictions because we only see the glass as half full. Excitement is intoxicating and we cannot get enough.
Until the preverbal Mile Two of any project, when our initial enthusiasm begins to die out. Who has energy for this kind of gusto long-term?
When our bright sparks start to fade, it’s not pretty. This half is now complaining: why does everyone expect so much of us? Yes, we made promises, but that was back when we were excited. Why does everyone need us to be all the energy? Who can keep up this kind of enthusiasm? Geesh!
In other words, this is when one half of our family begins to cry, “Hold Me!”
And this is what the other half of our family has been waiting to hear. This half is the group of slow starters, the risk-adverse ones. This is the half of the family that cherishes analysis over action and stability over so much energy.
This is their moment to shine.
At Mile Two, they’re just hitting their stride. They come alongside those of us who are losing interest. They offer us water, encourage us, tell us the finish line isn’t too far away.
Together, we all finish at the same time. Always.
And, although it’s nice we all finish together, I don’t think that’s the miracle.
I think the miracle is that we’ve found each other. The miracle is God does this perfect combination over and over again. It works so well: the zany ones compliment the quiet souls. We need them and they need us.
And the miracle is the timing of these duos. When our energetic sparks fade, you can see their steady lights shining steadily. When we’ve burned through all our adrenaline, the embers of theirs is just heating up.
And when our combustible hope begins to fade, theirs springs eternal.