I know who I am. Not all the time maybe, but in those moments of deepest reflections, I know. It is an age old search, the quest for yourself. There are times I get so frustrated just wondering the answer. But in the midst of it all, I think, there is purpose. Yet, In my moments of utter frustration, sometimes I feel it all meaningless. A void quest, an empty dream. How can I have purpose, I don’t even know what I want, or who I am. But I refuse to give up the fight for the things that I know for certain I want.
I went for a run today, and though my legs ached, my stomach cramped, and the pain begged me stop, God reminded me why I was running. I was dedicated to losing this excess weight. And I am not a quitter. Yes, I have succumbed to this weakness before. But I know that this isn’t me. I don’t quit. Since when did I sit by idly and watch the rest of the world succeed while I stumble.
It’s been a long time since I remembered that I have the eye of the tiger, as lame as that sounds. I want more, and I want to fight until I reach my goals. Because not only are they my goals, but they are His as well. That every dream I aspire to, is a dream that He gave me. And every passion I exhibit, I do so to glorify Him.
It’s crazy, I know. Out of all the people that roam the earth, how can God still have time to make purpose for me. And how can He still have time to remind me to remain strong. How does He see those moments of weakness. I know I will fall. It is human nature to do so. But I also know that for every failure there is a measure of success, if I choose to rise up from it. If I choose to trust in the Almighty, that He knows what He is doing in my life.
I would rather feel the pain of failure than the emptiness of knowing that I gave up. Yes, I know that I will quit, and I will stumble, and I will turn away. But God is showing me that I am more than just a quitter. He is showing me that I can be great, no matter where life takes me. It will ache, and it will tear me apart at times. But muscles were not built without a measure of pain. I imagine that strength isn’t either.