Finish What You Started

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

Hebrews 12:1-2

Anything but graceful, I fiercely clung to the ropes on either side while stepping forward, away from the platform and onto the single log hanging several feet from the ground. I could feel the blisters forming just below my fingers as I literally hung on for life, pushing from my mind the image of my limp body hanging from the harness as all of my peers stared up at me in horror. This was worst case scenario, right? Surely that wouldn't happen and the Lord Himself would miraculously swoop in and keep me from totally humiliating myself in front of everyone, right? But as my feet started to slip and the log beneath me began to violently swing from left to right, I immediately doubted whether I would make it home that day without being physically and emotionally scarred for life.

Pace Yourself

On that hot and Florida-humid (a humidity so extreme it deserves its own name) Thursday morning--myself, my director, and fellow interns gathered together for what you would call a "team building day" during our first week as school of ministry interns. Honestly, while I was up in those trees with a single harness around my waist keeping me from the ground, and half of my team several obstacles ahead of me, I wasn't sure how this constituted as "team building". Although they were cheering me on from ahead (and some from behind because I was most definitely holding them up), I was very much navigating the course on my own. As much as they cheered me on, no one could jump into my body and do it for me, I had to complete it on my own. But something about them watching me and cheering me on--both from the front and from behind--kept me going. I had this internal conviction to not let myself, or them, down. The rope courses were difficult for me, especially since this was something I hadn't done before and I am not the most active person to begin with (unless you consider racing to get to my Disney FastPass on time a sport), so it took me longer than the average person to get through them. However, as long as I went my own pace, I found I could keep up with the courses without getting terribly overwhelmed. The hardest part was keeping my balance and using my [non-existent] upper body strength to pull and hold myself up when necessary, all while trying not to freak out over the streams of sweat dripping down my legs (because apparently that's a thing and I am still in shock). Some courses were harder than others, but I tried my best not to think too hard about it and just kept going. When I would stop to think about how I should navigate the next course, I gave my thoughts room to expand into "I just want to get down." But if I kept going, fear and all, not looking around me, not looking behind, not concerned with anyone else's progress but my own, I could keep my momentum and keep moving forward. I had worked so hard to make it this far, I couldn't see myself giving up just yet. Again, there was something inside of me, a determination, a resilience that kept me going. I made it all the way through the first course and about halfway through the second one with this mindset. It was scary and I lost my balance a few times along the way, but I made it this far so I was convinced that if I just kept pushing through, I could finish all three courses.

Those Before Me

I don't remember how exactly my full on panic attack in the middle of a rope course several feet up in the trees started, but I do remember it being one of my ugliest moments. As I looked down, several of my teammates were standing below me, with two behind me on the course. There I was on that single log, you know, the one that was supposed to be supporting me but was instead swinging back and forth violently? Yes, so there I was, doing my thing, you know "just keep going, Celina, don't think about it, just go". Except this time my "thing" had failed me and no matter how hard I tried to go forward, the log would not stop shaking and I couldn't keep myself steady enough to keep moving. Every time I tried, the log would swing and I would lose my balance. Panic began to take hold of me and I suddenly couldn't breathe. All I could picture were my feet completely flying off of the log. I gripped the wire tightly (which apparently made things worse) and started ugly crying, completely paralyzed by fear. There I was up in the trees having a panic attack when I suddenly heard voices calling out to me from below. I forced myself to look down as they gently commanded me to take a deep breath and continued encouraging me to keep going. I had to control my breathing so I could maintain my composure. This time, the voice in my mind wasn't doing the talking, the ones behind and below me were. My teammates behind me were far more experienced and could have gone ahead; they honestly would have finished the course by that point, but if they had, I would have been up there all alone. We were all standing on different spots of the course, but we were still a team. One of my teammates from below told me to control my breathing so I could calm down. I started moving forward again but still struggled to keep the log steady. When I let go of the ropes on my side so I could continue moving forward, there was only the wire above me to hold on to until I reached the next set of ropes at the end of the log. However, each time I grabbed onto it was when the log would begin to shake. The wire above me was meant to aid me for only a moment as I moved my feet forward; it was not meant to support the entirety of my body weight. In order to keep going forward, I had to maintain my pace while gently holding onto the top wire, and then let go of it as soon as I got closer to the ropes. I couldn't stall for even a moment while holding onto the wire and walking across the log because the moment I did, the log would swing violently. However, I didn't know this beforehand. I listened to the voices of my teammates who had gone before me and knew how to navigate the course. They walked me through it even though they were ahead of me, not beside me. They gave me the instruction I needed so I could keep moving forward.

The Finish Line

Eventually, after what felt like an excruciatingly long period of time, I was able to complete that obstacle in the course and make it to the end of the second course. I completed the hardest obstacle in that course and was able to push right through the others. However, by the end of the second course, I was nauseous, lightheaded, and felt a headache coming on. The heat was getting to me and all of the strength I exerted to get through that one obstacle had nearly depleted me of all energy. I was physically done, but still contemplated whether I should move on to the third and final course. One of my teammates reminded me of the importance of knowing my limits and told me it was okay if I needed to stop. I knew she was right, so I laid my stubbornness aside and chose to sit the last course out.

The finish line isn't always marked with a black and white checkered flag. Sometimes, we have to stop in what seems like the middle of a journey. But what looks like a finish line for me may not be a finish line for you. When I was up in the course, my only options were to continue moving forward no matter how hard or scary it looked, or to call on a guide to come and get me down. However, in order to go down, I would have had to finish the obstacle I was on, or backtrack to the nearest platform so the guide could lower me down from there. Honestly, going backward seemed much scarier than going forward because I was already too scared to keep going. But I had already gone forward, so to backtrack would undo all of that progress that I had strained so hard to reach. I could push through to the next platform, be lowered down from there, or just finish the whole thing. Yes, I stalled a few times, and even got stuck on one obstacle and nearly fell off, but I continued pushing through even if it took me longer than the others.

I don’t know where you are today in your journey. Maybe you started a course and stopped in the middle, maybe you stalled and it took you double the time to finish, maybe you haven’t even started yet because you’re afraid to take the first step. No matter what stage of your journey you are in or what obstacle God is calling you to finish today, there is grace for you, you can always start again. Maybe you have to pick up where you left off, or go back to the starting line. Either way, you always have the option to start again.

Ironically, it’s in our doubt and questions that we find the resilience to keep going when faced with fear. It is in our doubt and questions that we are ultimately reminded: definitely not on our own, but in Christ, yes. Through the example of those who have gone before us, yes. We can absolutely keep going in the face of fear because whether it is the small voice inside of us or through the voices of those who have gone before us, the Lord will always go with and before us so that we can finish the race.

“...and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross,” (Hebrews 12)

No matter what you are facing today, no matter what you are tempted to run from, may you be encouraged in knowing that Jesus has already gone before you and declared “it is finished” so that you wouldn’t have to do it on your own. He has finished the race, and He alone is our strength.

With grace,

Celina