If you missed my previous post, catch it HERE before you read this one!

It was her last event and by far her biggest challenge.  How ironic that with all of the hurdles during this gymnastics season, it was about to come down to a vault.  She would need to run, block, and land well…symbolically overcoming a mountain of struggles through a difficult year.

And then she ran.  The same run that floods my eyes with tears.  A run that constantly reminds me of God’s promises.

She flew over that horse with determination and power.  And I erupted in cheers…not because I know if she did well (because I can’t tell a good vault from a poor one), but I cheered because she is fearless.  Brave.  A conqueror.  A fighter.  Everything I hope for her to be.

The wait for her score feels like an eternity, but I decide in that moment to watch her face instead of the scoreboard.  At this point, the score is only a number, but her face, that face…

This year had started off so well.  She had won the State Championship as a Level 3 and was ready to take on the world.  But the next ten months would prove to be a journey with life changing lessons marking it’s path.  She had joined a special group with a strategy change of focusing on strength instead of Level 4 routines.  It seemed like a good call at the time, but we began to see that her personality type was not the right fit for her new circumstance.  While some girls were thriving, we watched as day after day of strength training pushed and shaped her into uncomfortable molds for who she was created to be.  She deeply missed the performance training and missed the repetition of her normal systems. She never gave up, but her verbage began to change drastically…”I can do this” became “This isn’t something I’m good at”.  Her confidence began to falter.

Haven’t we all been there?  So sure we are a round peg in a square hole, but change is often scarier than just showing up day after day.  Maybe it will get better?  Maybe I just need to make it work?  What would life be like without these friends?  Without this familiar ground?  What is on the other side of the familiar?

As she wrestled with whether to change course or keep trying, she took another blow with an injury at her first meet in January.  Both of her wrists were damaged, which equated to extreme pain.  For the next eight weeks she agonizingly limped through competitions, all the while sliding even further backward in strength training.  Her scores often reflected her struggle and finally the day came when she looked at me and said, “I don’t think I’m on the right team.”

It was in that moment of desperation that the balance changed.  The fear of what was on the horizon became less than the fear of continuing on with the current course.

So, with tears in our eyes and trepidation in our hearts, Kennedy jumped in with another team in our gym and began the journey to salvage the end of the season.

Being placed in a team that was seemly crafted to her personality, she began to fight again.  I watched her determined spirit arise from discouragement and with it came confidence.  By the time Sectionals hit she had enough skills under her belt to feel better about her two nemesis’: bars and vault.  Her scores were still low for her, but her presence had changed.  She made it to State and used every moment of the next two weeks to sharpen and learn.

At State, I chuckled to myself to see that we were starting on bars.  Of course.  When I told Kennedy that, she quoted a video she had watched, “I may have lost some battles, but I will not lose the war.”  No, no you won’t, sweet girl.

The best bar score she had managed to pull out was at Sectionals with an 8.6.  When the score popped up at a 9.125, I fell off the bleachers.

She wasn’t going down easy.

Beam and floor were next and she got two more good scores.  Vault would be her big finale and with a personal best during the year of an 8.45, I knew it was still a long shot to end with four strong events.

And now there I was.  A long year behind us, looking at her face, not caring one bit what the scoreboard said.  She stood there in her little pink leotard…fearless.  Brave.  A conqueror.  A fighter.  Everything I hope for her to be.

And then came the smile.  Wide and contagious. I turned my head. 9.175.

Tears caught up in my throat and my hands cupped my face.  She did it.  She ended well.  Full of determination, confidence, and security in her strengths.

I cried that day because the war was never gymnastics…the war was fear and insecurity.  Fear of embracing the best path for herself.  Fear of disappointing other people.  Fear of failure.

And as always, our children teach us the most profound lessons: It is true that our confidence can be lost in the midst of life, but it can also be found.

Kennedy walked away that day with a 6th place medal, a 36.7 All Around score, but most importantly, she walked away saying, “I wish we had gym on Monday.  I am ready to learn something new!”

Rest, sweet girl.  God has new journeys for you just around the corner.

Today would you take a moment and vow to change what is shrinking you?  Rise up!  Dust off the “old you” and be everything God created you to be.  Recapture your spirit, your determination, your passion!  Shrug off your circumstance, your hindrances and the “what ifs”.  You’ve got this!  You’ve really, really got this.

My dear church, I have been lost in the love of God during my prayer times lately.  I sense He is calling you just as He is calling me.  It is my hope to pull you into His sweet presence with me. Would you take the next ten minutes, play the song above, read my prayer below and ask the Holy Spirit to birth in you a fresh desire for Him?  I believe, even now, He can meet you just where you need to be met.

Stacy

___________________

Heavenly Father,

My prayer today is for my precious church.

God…Holy God…Pour out your Spirit with a fresh passion on Your people.

I know You are calling.  Calling Your children back to Your heart and back to Your authority.  You wake me with tears running down my cheeks, broken for a nation. Our nation.

God, we are lost, we are so very lost.

Holy Spirit, give us repentant hearts.  We are sinners.  We are unholy.  And we fail you.  Birth in us a deep humility.  A true faith in Christ that is marked by repentance. May we draw the boundaries in our lives, not by the world’s standards, but by Your standards.

I pray a rich spiritual hunger in our hearts.  May we have an insatiable need for your Word, be called to your throne in prayer, and be uplifted in power by your Holy Spirit.

I pray for the weak, the depressed, and the down trodden.  Your children are not bound by the world’s life-taking gravity, but we are called to a higher purpose.  Freedom is found in Your face.  May we seek You with all of our hearts and may you release us from those chains.

I pray for our youth and children.  May they be mighty.  A generation with a boldness and a fight in their souls.  They have been lied to…Lied to about sexuality, lied to about worth, and lied to about power.  I pray for an unwavering strength in their determination and their direction.

I pray for a great cloud of witnesses in our church who will proclaim the love of Christ without hesitation.  You are our salvation, our joy, and our hope.  May we return to our first love and declare Your glory.

And Lord, give us hearts to worship with abandon.  May we set aside the distractions and spend the time worshipping you daily.  May we get up from those moments and carry the power of the Holy Spirit with us in a way that sets us apart.

God, we are desperate to see the God of miracles be set free to work in our midst.  The Healer, the Anointer, the Victor.  We long for Your power to be displayed in our church, our lives, and our community.

Let the Heavens open.

God, Holy God, let the Heavens open on our nation.

Amen.

Today’s post is in honor of October 15th National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and dedicated to my friends who have babies in Heaven.  You are each heroes to me for getting up in the morning, facing your grief and walking forward with the grace of Jesus shining through you.

Sometimes in this thing called life, we are thrown into the pain and suffering of this broken world with a front row seat.  Perhaps the closest we will get to the heart of pain is the loss of a child.

As parents, love is birthed in us at the moment of conception.  We begin to dream for, pray over, and protect fiercely this little baby that we cannot even see with our eyes, but whom we love with our very souls.  Our perfect picture is a healthy baby that grows into an amazing adult who will surely bury us before we bury them.  Anything short of that goal is almost too much for our frail hearts to handle.

Last week our dear friends, Daniel and Lisa, lost their baby unexpectedly late term in their pregnancy.  It is in that moment when you feel the earth’s horrifying gravity a little too heavily and yearn for the sweet respite of Heaven.  Words are too inadequate and we know that only Jesus can truly provide a soothing balm of peace in the darkness of grief.  It is simply breath stealing.

Daniel and Lisa’s oldest daughter and our oldest daughter, Delaney, have become fast friends in the last several months.  As a pastor’s kid, Delaney has been on the forefront of grief many times.  She has been with us for too many devastating visits and has held the hand of several friend’s facing the harsh reality of loss. Perhaps that is why Delaney latched on to Emily’s grief quickly and carried it with her as her own.  She delivered a gift to her friend, stood by her in small group, and cried over the sadness in her heart.

A few days later at Delaney’s cross country meet I watched my girl run in the distance and enjoyed seeing her long stride push past her own pain.  She was running with literally everything in her body and I could tell she was focused on doing well.  Delaney is not naturally competitive, but this day she was running with a new determination.

When we got in the car I told her that I was proud of her for trying so hard.  I was stunned when her answer came from the back seat, “I was running for Emily. I just thought of her the whole time and did my best for her. When I was struggling, I thought, ‘Just keep running.’  And so I did.”

I wasn’t expecting that at all and the beauty of realizing that she was still carrying that grief on behalf of her friend caused hot tears to roll down my cheeks.

God’s own wisdom often comes from the most innocent of moments, doesn’t it?

I sat quietly in the front seat contemplating what Jesus was speaking to my heart.  It had been such a long and difficult week and His sweet presence in the car was a welcome lift to my weary soul.

“Stacy, do you hear those words?  When you feel pain, JUST KEEP RUNNING.  When you want to stop, JUST KEEP RUNNING.  When you don’t know what to do, JUST KEEP RUNNING.”

And that’s true for all of us, isn’t it?

Daniel and Lisa…JUST KEEP RUNNING.

Greg and Kristina…JUST KEEP RUNNING.

YOU…JUST KEEP RUNNING.

And the really beautiful piece of being a part of God’s family…You are not out there on the course alone.  When you think that the grief might overtake you and the pain is too much, just remember that there are many people who aren’t just running with you…they are running FOR you.  And they are fighting for you, praying for you, and pulling for you.

You aren’t alone.  Just keep running.

Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³ Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.