When You’re Stuck in the Mire


Last weekend, Little Man took part in a 1.2 mile all-kids mud race. Just 10 yards out of the start gate, he lost his shoe. I was crouched at the start line to snap some images, so when he tearfully looked over at me with one shoe on, one shoe off, I was close enough to rush in and assist him. After adjusting said shoe, he realized he’d lost his cousins. Big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks as the other kids pushed past him, and it suddenly became apparent that I would be running this race with him (did I mention that I was wearing Hunter rain boots and had the baby strapped to me in a carrier?). With one hand holding the baby’s head firmly against my chest and another gripping the camera, I took off jogging alongside him. The first half-mile was an all-out sprint.

When we finally reached the first obstacle, he navigated his way through the swampy water without trouble. The second obstacle, however, was a different story. As he attempted to step in and out of mud-dredged tires, Little Man’s feet sunk nearly three inches into the mud, and that poor boy was stuck. Tears ensued again, as he looked over at me and desperately cried: “Mom! I’m stuck.” Biting my lip, I took one step into the mud and mentally debated how in the world I was going to push my way through the other kids while holding the camera and the baby in an effort to rescue my son from the past-ankle-deep mud that held him fast. Thankfully a volunteer noticed our plight and stepped in to free him. Little Man did eventually finish the race (with myself, the baby and the camera near him the whole time), but not without bypassing several of the obstacles. I certainly can’t say that I blame him!

Later that afternoon, as I reviewed some of the pictures showing my little guy entrenched in mud or working his way through murky waters, I was struck with the realization that I often run that same race on a spiritual level. There have been many times in my life when I’ve chosen to wallow in the mire; times when I’ve chosen to muck through the murky waters rather than follow the Lord’s leading. Those times have certainly left me caked with filth. Yet in each of those times, as soon as I’ve cried out, the Lord has stepped in to rescue me from the mud and to redeem me from the filth.


Next week I’m starting a series where I’ll be sharing one such experience: a time when I journeyed through some debilitating anxiety and how the Lord stepped into the midst of that journey and used it to reveal His goodness. I’m not sure yet on the duration of the series. At this point, all I know is that I’ll be writing from the heart, and I hope you’ll join me! See you Monday! 


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