You haven’t heard from me in a few months because we’ve had new little people in and out of our family again. We welcomed a sweet 2 year old before Christmas and she returned home in February. And at the end of January, 2 boys who we already call family returned to our home along with their baby brother. Yes, making that 9 kids for a short while, and now we’re settling in to our routine and figuring out how much laundry comes with 8 kids living here full time! Between keeping up with the laundry/cleaning/dishes/groceries/meal making and of course playing and then sleeping when we can because we’re getting up with a baby again in the middle of the night, I haven’t prioritized a blog post. But the Holy Spirit has been nagging me about this one all week, so it’s 5 am and I have a cup of coffee so here we go.

What’s been a little different for me about these last 3 kids joining our family is how people have reacted to it. I realized when we added child number 5 to our family, that 4 kids is a lot but still socially acceptable here in America, but it seems like more than 5 puts you in this “you must be crazy” category, and a lot of people stop saying congratulations or being supportive. But if I thought that happened with kid number 5, I had no idea what would happen with kid number 6 through 8. Our church has been fantastic, offering encouragement, delivering meals, helping hands. A lot of people from afar say “bless you”. But I’ve been surprised how people have been quiet or even offered a “are you sure that’s a good idea?” “Are you sure you can handle that?”

I know this comes from a place of love, of looking out for us and wanting to protect us. But what the Holy Spirit has been nagging at me to write about, is, sometimes these questions have me asking, are we evening running the same race?

My eyes are fixed on Jesus at the finish line, and I’m simply running the race He’s put before me. It’s grueling to be sure, as He promised following Him would be. I don’t get much sleep. I am pushed to my absolute limit. My heart has been broken into pieces too many times to be put back together well. But I can still see the finish line, so I’m going to keep going, even though my body aches and my feet are bleeding because this is my race and finishing it is everything.

I have never been a hardcore actual race runner but I have many friends and family members who are. Honestly, sometimes I think they are absolutely crazy. They have blisters on top of blisters on top of blisters that would make me cry just to put shoes on and walk two steps and they go out and run 10 miles. They push their bodies to finish races and then can hardly move the next day. They spend all their free time training. And it’s worth it to them, all to finish the race. Sometimes, I think they are crazy. Maybe sometimes I have even said this to them. But one thing I have never said is: I don’t think you can (or should) do this. I’ve always believed they can do it if they put their mind to it.

Racers need encouragement. They can be almost spent, and get all they need to keep going from someone cheering them on from the sidelines. They need someone saying “I believe in you” “You can do this” “You’re doing great” “Just a little bit further”.

I am blessed with a few good friends who have always done this for me and this time is no exception (friends: I love you). But I have also encountered those who from the sidelines have shouted, “maybe this isn’t a good idea” and “are you sure you can do this?” And again I absolutely know this comes from a place of love. I look at my friends with their blood soaked shoes and want to tell them to stop sometimes too. But that’s when I have to ask, are we running the same race? Because if we are, then you get it. You get that I will make any sacrifice required of me to finish the race He’s put before me. You get that I just can’t say “that’s too hard” and quit half way through. If your eyes are on the finish line, if you’re running beside me, you get that I’m going to do whatever it takes.

But if you’re on the sidelines, wondering why I’m running in the first place, it might be hard to support when you see me struggling so hard to finish. It might be easy to say, come on, take a rest, don’t push so hard, it’s not worth it.

But if you see Jesus there, if you’re following Him to calvary, you know what the race is going to demand before you even begin. You know it’s going to be grueling. This is no 5K. This is primarily uphill, marathon running, push your body way past what you knew you could ever do type racing. And as long as I can still see Jesus, I’m going to make it. But if I get distracted, and can’t see the finish line, I could easily be convinced it would be easier to just sit on the sidelines, join the people relaxing and drinking and not struggling at all. Those days I thank God, for the encouragers He places along my race, the ones who say “you can do this” “just keep going” “the next mile won’t be so tough” “almost there”.

Don’t hear me say we don’t need to rest and refuel. Sometimes the people we love see our needs before we do, and when they suggest we might need some water, to slow our pace, a new pair of shoes, we shouldn’t hear them saying they don’t think we can do it. We’ve gotten some good advice along our race about prioritizing date nights to put our marriage first, getting a part time nanny to help avoid burnout, and above all taking time to pray. Take a cup of water when it’s handed to you! Your friend isn’t suggesting you can’t do it when they hand you a cup of water. They just see you needing a drink! Do what you have to do so you can keep going. I have to start every day with prayer, which is why I am up at 5 am most days. I have to receive Jesus at Mass each week. I have to pray the rosary every day and meditate on the race Jesus ran and then mine doesn’t seem so tough. I have to eat well and have good people around me encouraging me and passing me cups of water. And some days, I don’t do those things. Some days, I’m at that point where I don’t know if I can possibly take one more step and I am looking down at the ground or even around at the sidelines and I have forgotten what the finish line even looks like. On those days, I need to hear “you can do it” “remember what you’re running for” “look at Jesus” , and I definitely don’t need to hear, “are you sure you can do this?” Or even “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

We’re all guilty of it. I wonder how many times I have said it to others, out of complete love, but misunderstanding the race they are running. We all have different paths, obstacles, challenges set before us, but if we’re running to Jesus, we should be going in the same direction. Lets encourage each other on the race. Even if you don’t always get it. And lets also ask ourselves, if what they’re doing seems so crazy to us, are we even in the race? Are we on the sidelines or even running in the opposite direction, or trying to convince someone to quit the race? Because if you’re in the race, you’re probably not telling someone you think they’re crazy for being in it too.

Come on, put your shoes on. It’s grueling to be sure, but crossing that finish line, knowing you gave it all, you pushed past the limit and still made it, that embrace with Jesus at the end, that is EVERYTHING. And I’m going to make it. Bruised, bleeding, heartbroken, completely spent, just like He did. And it’s going to be worth it. Truly, it already is. Thanks for racing with me friends, it’s a complete joy to run beside you. Just a little further. You can do it!

“Just one thing: forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead, I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus.” Phil 3: 14

And if you’re saying, “seriously no, Ann, I really can’t do it,” stay tuned for the next post, I know just what you need.