Summer is here. It has been awesome. I’m never going back to college and when I get home in the afternoon, there is no homework. That’s right, this post is being brought to you by a college graduate.
Before my first ever bike race. Before my first ever bike. There was an idea. There was a moment where becoming an endurance athlete became something that wasn’t absolutely ridiculous. (I mean, c’mon, who wants to swim and bike and run for hours a day?) I was naive. But I had big dream. And something happened in those beginning weeks. Something hijacked that dream. And I haven’t been able to shake it.
One morning I was talking to a volunteer at church. I was telling him about my desire to train and compete in my first ever triathlon. I came to find out he had done them for years and had just recently sold his racing bike. As we got to talking, I jokingly made the comment, “I’m going pro.” He looked at me, and this was the moment. I wasn’t being serious, but it was here he could have affirmed or denied. And he said, “I don’t think so. You’re too big.” At the time, I was over 30 pounds heavier than I am now. And even though I have lost that much weight, I still hear this voice in my head that tells me, “You’re too big.” And I know this guy didn’t have the intention of smashing my dream right then and there, but he did. And whenever I get on my bike I hear, “You’re too big.” At the start line, I look at the guys next to me and wonder if they think I’m too big. And before the race has even started I’ve already resigned myself to not having a chance. I’ve already given up.
And so, this season has been more than disappointing. It has been down right discouraging. Every race has been dismal and I have seen terrible results. After each race I get more discouraged and have less desire.
“I’m too big.”
And so the cycle has gone all summer. Lose. Get down. Lose. Get down. Lose. Get down. Round and Round. Down and down.
“I’m too big.”
I can’t snap out of it. I’m not sure what to do or what to think. I work hard. So hard. I put in the miles. I do the sprints. I eat the right food. But for some reason the results are the same and I’m not sure why.
Then I read this.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
And I saw it for three straight days. In random places, and it hit me. Like a train. All the riding. All the miles. All the sweat had been in my own power. In my own strength. You see, apart from the Father in heaven, I can do nothing. I am nothing.
But in him, I am complete. A few phrases later, the story reads, “I tell you this so your joy may be complete.” Not lacking anything. Whole. Perfect.
I may be too big. But my God is bigger.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory...
I can feel it. I can taste it. It’s right there, beyond what we can see. It’s a power too big for the world to handle. And it’s mine.
I’ll see you on the road…