Those days are few and far between.
Living in southeast Missouri, the days of beautiful, seventy-degree weather cumulate to somewhere around nine per year.
The days that I perfectly balance carbs, protein and rest are...well, I can think of only one lately and I'm pretty sure it left me grouchy.
My playlist has a mind of its own. To make matters worse, I typically can't find a working pair of ear buds in the house because our sweet, four-legged family member thinks they're all chew-toys.
And a day that I have laundry completely done happens as often as a day when no one breathes.
Therefore, no run is ever perfect.
It's either too hot or windy or I forget to hydrate and my mouth resembles a cotton patch by two miles in. Most of the time, my phone is near dead and I run listening to the sound of my own labored breathing. Yes, the days of perfect runs are limited at best.
And then there are the days I want to quit along the route.
It gets hard. Maybe I didn't get enough rest. Maybe I can't fully concentrate. The humidity is a monster. Or I need a bathroom by the first curve.
What's my response when the race gets hard or I get weary?
I've quit before. And soon after I quit, I don't like myself.
Sometimes I feel like this about life. Days are hard, relationships are complex. I get tired and worn down, and instead of running the race with any kind of perseverance, I just stop and walk. It's easier. Life is easier walking, or quitting.
Having two teenagers in the house has its challenges. Their moods. Their decision-making. Their moods. Their withdrawal. Their insecurity masking itself as down-right obstinacy. Their moods.
I've had a few times lately that I wanted to quit parenting. I've found myself one eye-roll away from throwing in the towel. One put-down from a smack-down.
Sometimes I want to not just walk, but walk away. When I've run my legs off with the doing and the going and the cheering and the buying, and all I've been met with is discontentment and sarcasm...I want to quit. When, after those things, I still get the dissatisfaction, the selfish attitude, and have I mentioned, the moods? I want to walk away.
I've quit on parenting before. It's been brief, but I've quit. Mentally, I've walked away and wished they really knew how good they had it. Or I've sullied up. I've packed my mom-bag and emotionally quit the relationship. I've done it. I've quit like that, and I don't like myself when I do. Obviously I don't want to quit being their mom. I just want the easy jog of everything falling into place and everyone sharing and loving and thanking everyone.
The race of parenting gets long. It takes stamina and endurance. Just when I've taken a good, deep breath and think I can make it, a hill comes out of nowhere and I want to quit.
The perfect parenting days are about as frequent as the perfect run days. The days when everything lines up and all is well with everyone's souls, well, those are so few. But running the hard, long race of parenting isn't about shooting for perfect days. It's about staying in the race with a focus on the finish.
Mom, don't quit. Don't give up.
Keep up the good fight of parenting.
Keep running the good race of raising those babies with patience and gentleness and goodness and discipline.
Keep running when it seems like everything single thing you do goes unnoticed or unappreciated.
Keep trekking forward when your beloveds seem to listen to everyone around but you.
Keep pressing on when more people in your house seem to think you're ridiculous than seem to rise up and call you blessed. If only.
It's ultimately not about our momma-runs being perfect, but it's about us being steadfast and finishing well. Let's don't quit on them. Even the emotional quit. Let's just don't.
Let's eye the finish line in our sights and know that the real victory comes in pushing through the hard and the hurt. It's when we don't quit at the moment we most want to quit that makes us stronger. That's when we really grow the muscles of mercy and grace. That's the moment we call on the Savior for His mercy. And that's when He fills our hearts with more of Himself. Truly, that is finishing.
What's your response when the race gets hard and weary?
Don't quit, my friend. Dive into the sweet Word for encouragement. Call a friend who will speak truth and life to your weary bones. Ask for forgiveness if need be. Pray, pray, and pray again.
The days of perfect parenting may barely cumulate to nine per decade, but let's all keep at it.
When the run of the day is over and all you can think about is how tired your patience muscles are, you will rest well because you didn't quit. You will know that you made it, if just for that day. Each day is a new run with new curves and bends. Let's run each of them knowing we get stronger with stride.
Just don't quit.
"...let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us." Hebrews 12:1b
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