After my first kayak race I looked for a place close to home to practice, or simply to get out and spend time on the quiet water. Wyandotte County Lake was the perfect place, other than the fact they did not allow kayaks. I never liked “no” for an answer, so I took the matter to the County board who had oversight of the lake operations.
Little did I know that newspaper reporters sat in on these meetings just in case there was a little morsel of news to report on. And there was. At my presentation I may have exaggerated a bit, because the headline of the Wyandotte County Star article read “Local Paddler, Olympic Hopeful”. And did I ever catch crap from my friends about that. But mom and dad didn’t laugh. They just wondered if I was going to be in Barcelona in 1992 or Atlanta in 1996.
I also believed I could. Whatever big dream I had, I knew I could do it. And I learned how to chase dreams a little later in life. All the adventures my parents allowed paid off in confidence that I could do it. I could be dropped off in the middle of nowhere and figure out how to get home. I could start a painting business. I could canoe a class 5 rapid. I could survive without food and water for 3 days. I could overcome intense fear and still make good decisions. I can lead my family through a crisis.
Wait a minute. Somewhere in the last 5 months, I realized that I am not capable of this one. The endurance required of this challenge wore me out and broke me. And we may only be through a small part of the race. I can’t continue. Maybe for the first time in my life I will have to depend on strength I don’t have. Where will that strength come from? My strength must now, finally, come from the living God; the creator of the universe; the giver of life; my provider; my helper; my comforter; my rock; my savior. Jesus.
That is overwhelming relief. Joy. Peace. Rest for my soul.