Extreme Waiting


Who knew I was actually an athlete?

What sport?

It’s called extreme waiting.

Like a sprinter I limber up, stretch those muscles, I give the competition an intimidating look…

“On your marks”… I put my fingers to the line, poised… ready…

“Get set” I steady my feet and I raise my buttocks to the heavens like a glorious offering to the Lord…

I prepare for the start with delicious anticipation…

“Wait”…

Sweat drips from by brow… I wait…

“Wait”… keep your eye on the goal, that’s what they say keep your eye on the prize.

My arms start to wobble with the pressure of holding my girth in this state.

I start to worry.

Hello? I’m here to run the race? I need to “GO”

“Wait”

My fingers have gone white, my buttocks are no longer poised in glory but starting to wane.

“Wait”

I try to focus my eyes on the lane ahead, I can still see it, I WILL run the race, I steady my resolve.

I’m no quitter.

“Wait”

My legs are burning with the strain, how long can I hold this position?

“Wait”

I wobble, my palms sweaty, my feet start to cramp

“Wait”

It’s all about the mental discipline, surely. I will not give up.

“Wait”

God’ I’m here! Ready to run the race you have set before me! Let me be free to run!

“Wait”

My fingers start to slip, I start to cry.

“Wait”

I’m sure, I’m so sure of the path ahead, I grit my teeth, I endure the pain as my limbs begin to seize.

“Wait”

Tears stream down my face, I look at them falling on the ground, I look up to the end, the prize, I can hardly see it, the tears are stinging my face. I cry out, I scream to God, let me GO!

“Wait”

NO! I can’t wait my body is failing, I’m going to fall, let me GO!

“Wait”

I scream inside with the pain and frustration, I shake uncontrollably, I lose my sense of direction, I can barely hold my head up, I pray for the ability to withstand the strain

“Wait”

I start to feel dizzy. My limbs have atrophied, I have wasted away, I am barely there at all, my lips are dry and cracked, my voice is raspy, I pray a silent prayer, Let me go.

….


“Wait”

My limbs give way, I fall, my face hits the ground, my limbs offer no protection, I am all but gone, I have nothing, I am nothing.

He comes, he lifts my body.

“Let me carry you.”

He wipes my tears, smiles and whispers to me.

“I am the prize.”


The race is not the destination, it is the journey.