Obstacles

Some barriers are harder than others.  Once they have been crossed it is usually hard to remember why they were so difficult.  Yet there are often tags, buried in the details of what one recalls, which give one reason to pause and wonder.  Could I have failed?  If so, why?  What can I learn to help me now?
 
On the morning after my last New York marathon, in the darkness similar to the time of day I write now, I was caught in the reflection of a particular moment.  I had successfully passed over twenty-six miles of New York.  I was on the home stretch.  I could see the finish line.  As I came across Central Park South I simply had to turn right and push on for a distance less than 100 yards.  Yet there was a battle ranging in my mind.  I was tired.  More than tired, I lack energy, motivation, and the will to finish.  I didn’t want to overcome the last one hundred yards, I wanted to go home.  I wanted family.  I wanted rest.  The battle wasn’t new.  It had ranged for the last several miles, yet the focus had all come to this moment.  Before I could rationalize how every step took me closer to home.  Now, if I turned right, I would take a step away from the car (home) and go towards I finish I where I would know no one.  It seemed pointless and obscure.
 
I don’t remember the Spirit’s words.  They could have been something like this; “fearful souls, ‘Courage!  Take heart! God is here, right here, on his way to put things right and redress all wrongs.  He's on his way! He'll save you!’”  (Isaiah 35.4)
 
On that day I turned to the right, shuffled the last hundred yards, and found myself coming face to face with a friend who I had helped on another day.  Her words of encouragement, as she draped the medal around my neck burned deep; “great work!  It is good to see you here.” 
 
Which way will I turn today?