Energized

“Let us run with patient endurance the race that is set before us.”  ~ Hebrews 12:1

One of my great joys in life is taking an early morning run with my two dogs.  Giallo is a 75-pound yellow Lab mix, and Frisco is a reddish-brown Shepherd mix about half Giallo’s size.  They must have internal “running” clocks, because every morning about 6:30 they start getting excited.  They get up from wherever they’re sleeping, str-e-e-e-etch, yawn, and prance around, excitedly awaiting the magic moment when the leashes appear.  I can hardly get them to sit still while I hook their collars.  And then … they’re off!  Like thoroughbreds at Churchill Downs, they burst from the gate, eager to be running down the sidewalk in the cool morning air.  Holding one leash in each hand, it feels somewhat like I’m guiding an Alaskan sled dog team.  “Mush, mush!” I think to myself as Giallo and Frisco set a brisk pace with me following close behind.

At the beginning of the run, both dogs are full of seemingly boundless energy.  Nothing can distract them from their doggie goal – whatever that is!  After a few minutes, though, they start to notice the squirrel crossing the road, the cat hiding under the bush, or the garbage set out by the curb.  One or the other will veer from our course, straining against his collar to reach the temptation.  “Come on, boys, this way!” I say, giving a little tug on the leashes.  Obediently, they return and we continue on.  Frisco, I think, is related to the Energizer bunny – he can keep running and running and running.  But the farther we get into the morning jog, the more Giallo starts to tire.  He starts out right beside Frisco, way at the end of the leash, but minute by minute he drops farther behind his buddy.  Tongue lolling, sides heaving, tail drooping, he glances up at me as if to say, “Aren’t we there YET?!”  By the time we’re getting close to home again, I have to encourage him every few steps, “Come on, Giallo.  You can do it!  Good boy.  We’re almost home!”  Walking up the driveway and through the front door, I stoop to lavish praise and petting on each dog – Frisco, who looks like he could run another 10 miles, and Giallo, who looks as if he wishes he never heard of a leash.

It reminds me a lot of our homeschooling.  At the beginning of the school year, we’re all revved up and ready to go.  I’ve got the curriculum bought, lesson plans made, brand new school supplies in the drawer, and my students can’t wait to get started.  For a few weeks, everything goes just as planned.  Everybody gets up the moment the alarm goes off.  The kids are thirsty for knowledge and hang on my every word, and they cheerfully complete their assignments on time and in their best handwriting.  But then, along about Halloween, the new school year shine starts to grow a bit dim.  The children begin complaining about how much work they have to do.  School books that were once exciting and fresh now seem dull and tedious.  I hear about someone else’s curriculum choice, and suddenly I start to wonder if another program might be better than the one I’ve chosen.  And sometimes I even wonder if we’d all be better off just scrapping the whole idea and (gasp!) sending the kids off to “real” school.

Like Giallo in the middle of the morning run, my steps slow, my sides heave, and I pant out to God, “Will I ever make it to the end?”  Thankfully, though, God’s got me on a short leash.  It’s a leash I willingly put on, because I know when I stay closely yoked to the Father, He promises to lighten my burden (Matthew 11:28-30).  When my enthusiasm wanes, my eyes wander, and my feet begin to veer from the path He’s chosen, He gently yanks my chain and reminds me Who is really Leader of the pack.  “Come on!  This way!” He says.  “You can do it.  We’re almost home!”  My Gentle Master stoops down and lavishes His love and encouragement on me, and suddenly I feel energized again.  I know that with God in the lead, like Frisco and the Energizer Bunny, I can keep going and going and going ….. Mush, Mush!
“It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.  You give me your shield of victory, and your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great.” ~ Psalm 18:33, 35

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