Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Outside Lane.

With the lifestyle I have had since meeting Ryan, it is hard for him to believe I really was (kind of) an athlete in high school. Being back home, a few people have mentioned moments from my (not-so) glory days and he just stares at me in complete disbelief. The same cliché comment rolls off his tongue in such a sweet tone: “Madison used to run? I haven’t even seen her run to the fridge!” 

Either way, one day I will be running my child around a track like my dad did with me, and I will be telling them all about how their mom was a (self-proclaimed) track star. (People always get more confident the further in the past it becomes, right?)


My race was the 200 meter dash, the “candy cane”, “half a lap”, whatever you want to call it. I did not have the legs to run the 400 or the 800, even though many coaches thought they could turn me into a middle distance runner. I was not a decent sprinter either. I would get completely throttled in the 100. I could run the 200, and that is how it became my race.

In long distance races, most athletes want in the very inside lane to cut down on the distance they will have to run. In sprints, athletes tend to want to race in the middle lanes to be able to see their competitors in their peripheral view. I never was much for the normal way of doing things. 

Sitting back on the heating benches before my race, I would hope and pray for the most outside lane. If I got lane 1, I would secretly wish to pull something coming out of the starting blocks because I knew I could not win. I would become distracted with my competitors, the crowd, or the field events inside the track. The closer I got to the last lane, the happier and more confident I became. If my dream did come true and I was placed in the last lane, I am sure I walked with my nose in the air, knowing I had won my heat already. Why? It was all about the focus.

The way I looked at it, the further out I was, the easier I could see the finish line. If I was in my beloved last lane, once the gun went off, there was nothing (and would not be on great days) anything in my peripheral view. My focus was set on the finish line. I would run without any distractions toward my goal.

While studying Matthew 14 this last weekend, I was graciously reminded to not shake my prideful head at Peter in the story in verses 22 through 33.

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat by this time was a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”
And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” (Matthew 14:22-33)


Ol’ Peter. His impulsiveness was his weakness and also his strength. Peter sees Jesus. He gets out of the boat. His focus is Jesus. He is walking on the water towards Jesus. Suddenly, Scripture says Peter saw the wind. Wait a minute! Only a few verses before it says that the boat was beaten by the waves because of the wind. Had Peter forgetten about the wind? No, of course not. His focus had changed. He became afraid and began to sink.

I am similar to Peter, especially here in this story. So often I do the exact thing. I see Jesus at work in a place. He stirs a passion in my heart. He calls me out of the boat to join Him. I jump out. I start running toward the finish line, towards Him. My focus is set on Jesus. All is well. Until, just as when I found myself racing in an inside lane of the track, I take my eyes off my focus point. I start to see things in my peripheral view. I take my eyes off of Jesus and look around at all the circumstances, dwell on the what-ifs, or entertain the thought that I could do better on my own. I quickly begin to sink. I become afraid.

Peter cries out, “Lord, save me!” And Jesus immediately catches him. Grace. Jesus asks Peter why he doubted. For Peter had a front row seat witnessing the power and authority Jesus holds. Moments later, they would get back in the boat together and the winds would cease. The disciples would worship and praise Jesus as the Son of God.

Why do I doubt? I have seen Jesus’s work in my life and others’ lives around me. He has used me in ways I never imagined and could never have dreamed on my own. Oh, me of little faith! However, when I cry out, Jesus reaches out His hand; He takes a hold of mine. He shows me His amazing grace. He reminds me what He has accomplished, what He is doing, and what He is going to do.

No matter what lane I find myself in, no matter the waves around me, my prayer is that the next time Jesus says, “Come,” when He calls me to a certain place, a certain person, or a certain project, I will jump out of the boat and place my sole focus and eyes upon Him. I will trust in who He is, remember what He has done, and look forward to what He will do. Knowing, no matter what, His grace is within my reach. I pray to run wholeheartedly towards Him, never giving the distractions a glance. After all, trusting in Jesus is infinitely better than the outside lane.

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