Beginning, Middle, End

Anyone can begin. That's the easy part.
We begin the school year with fresh, unsmudged notebooks, razor-sharp pencils, a lunchbox that doesn't smell like week-old crusts, a folder with everything neatly tabbed and filed.
But come Christmas break, the lunchbox isn't even used anymore, the pencils are missing all their erasers, and the folder? What folder? A backpack makes an excellent filing system, thank you very much.
We begin an exercise program with a plan, the best shoes to enhance our performance, catchy tunes on our iPod, and intensity in our hearts. A few weeks later, the snooze button is the only thing getting a workout.
We begin marriage fully convinced that OUR marriage will be the best, the most intimate, the one that defies every odd and every statistic. A few years later, we're pretty sure we married the wrong person. It must be their fault we're not happy, not feeling that first-kiss rush.
We begin parenting with great hopes, sure plans that we will never, ever raise our voice at our children, we will spend beautiful afternoons making amazing crafts, we will provide financial security for their every need, we will play boardgames every night after our delicious dinner consisting of every food group, and we will simply be the best parents ever.

Beginnings are easy. It's that tricky middle part that makes us want to quit. The middle of the school year, the long, mind-numbing miles 12-19 of a marathon, the times with our spouse when talking through things feels like too much work and too discouraging, the days of mommyhood when the clock seems surely to have broken.

I don't want to be a person who just survives the middle.
I want to begin and end well.
I don't want to always be pushing ahead to the next milestone and miss what God is doing in my heart, in my family's hearts right now. And even though some days are endless, and some days are glorious, I know that the long days, the hard days are the ones that build my character, that prove what I am made of.

Character is a rather unglamorous word. It certainly doesn't stir great emotion, but when you know someone who has it, and who demonstrates it when you need it most, you realize just how unimaginably beautiful it is.

It's often said that a marathon is a great metaphor for life, and as a wannabe marathoner, I kept thinking about that during my first 26.2-miler. There were so many times I wished that I could JUST STOP MOVING. I wanted to have my finish-line moment already. But isn't that the point? I can't stop moving. And if "just finishing" a marathon is an accomplishment in itself, what does finishing well look like?
I want to know.
And not just in a race.

Phil. 3:13-15, The Message
I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.
So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you'll see it yet! Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it