Roots

I don't claim to be an accomplished runner, nor do I profess to be a spiritual guru, but I had an experience this afternoon I want to record.

Here's a bit of background.

Last August, I started training for a 5k to do with the young women in the ward.  We made kind of a big deal about it, naming it the "I Can Do Hard Things 5k".  (If you feel up to it, you can read more about that here).  Later, on Thanksgiving,  I did the annual "Run for your Hart" family 5k.  Other than being 4 months pregnant (later to find out, with twins) I was in pretty good shape.  Little did I know, those runs were going to prepare me for today.

I went running around the greenbelt this afternoon.  I refuse to blame my lack of breathing capacity on the vats of Diet Coke that I've had in the last 9 months, so I'll go ahead and say I could hardly breathe because of the smoke in the air.  :)

Nonetheless,  toward the end of the loop, I found myself really struggling.  So, as per usual, I started bargaining with my will power.  I promised myself a brief reprieve if I made it to the next light pole a few yards away.  As soon as I got to that light pole, I felt somewhat energized for accomplishing my goal, and I pushed myself a bit further, knowing, I had run this distance before.  I found myself returning to the roots of those previous 5k's and how I felt towards the end and I was able to draw strength from them.

I couldn't help  but think about where I've been the last few months, and the experiences I've had.  Not a day went by that I wasn't begging the Lord for some kind of reprieve from the anxiety, fear, and pain that I felt for Bogey and my children left at home.  More than once I found myself in a bathroom stall, or in the stairwell, praying to just get through the next procedure, or the remainder of the day.  The rest didn't always come when I asked for it, BUT IT CAME!  I was pushed to the very edges of what I thought I could handle, yet, through the Atonement of my Savior, and the love of family and friends, I was able to go beyond those limits, and dig down and draw from the roots of my testimony. 

And all of this, makes me all the more proud of my 8 year old--Gimme--who chose to be baptized, and  who is beginning to nourish and plant the roots she will need to draw from someday.

This past Saturday was such a special day with friends and family as we also blessed the babies.   Ace gave beautiful blessings.  I am so lucky to be married to him.  He does so much for us!