The state meet was such a big day. I’ll admit it, I was a nervous nelly like always when my kids have something big going on. But maybe I’m growing, because this time I didn’t have the “nervous poops.” A little too much information, but for real, other parents will understand that feeling. I wouldn’t call myself a nervous person. I’ve learned to kick anxiety away and to claim 1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” I do not entertain fear, and I refuse to let anxiety rule my heart. But when it comes to watching your child compete, those mama nerves can still sneak in.
It was a cool, windy day, not the kind of weather I had hoped for. I layered up and decided to stick with my crutches since there was light rain earlier that morning. Just getting from the car to the starting line wore me out, and every step reminded me that healing takes time. Instead of trying to get to multiple viewing spots, I stayed near the start and finish, soaking it all in.
During the race, I prayed. I watched the big screen updates and listened closely to the announcer. When I heard that my daughter’s team was in fourth place at mile one, my heart sank a little. That was not where we wanted to be. But I prayed again and trusted they would start making moves. And they did. By mile two, I could see their names moving up. Then came the finish. I spotted my daughter and cheered as loudly as I could. My heart swelled with pride.
They finished second. It wasn’t the defending championship they hoped for, but it was still an incredible accomplishment. The team that took first had three freshmen with record-breaking times. It was truly amazing to watch. I loved seeing our girls celebrate second place with joy and gratitude. They recognized that every season has its purpose, and that was such a beautiful thing to witness.
When I finally got my hug, it came with tears. Joy for her, but also the realization that this might have been her last high school cross country race. I have loved every single meet, every cheer, every muddy shoe, and every finish line moment. I am so proud that my daughter knows her identity isn’t tied to a sport. She loves to run, but she knows who she is in Christ first.
We are both in seasons of transition. She is waiting for God to reveal her next steps after high school, and I am walking slowly through my own healing journey. In our own ways, we are both learning to trust, to move forward one step at a time, and to believe that the same God who carried us this far will guide us into what’s next.
Scripture and Encouragement:
“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” — Hebrews 12:1-2
Whether it is a literal race or the unseen race of faith, we keep moving forward by fixing our eyes on Jesus, not on the outcome, not on comparison, not on fear. His pace is perfect. His plan is good.
Prayer:
Lord, thank You for giving us strength for every season—the races we run, the steps we take, and the transitions we face. Help us both to trust You completely, to celebrate what You’ve already done, and to walk forward in peace, knowing You are guiding every step. Amen.




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