By Heidi Chiavaroli
My breaths squeezed within my chest, my oncoming tears doing nothing to help the tight feeling of despair settling within me. I looked up the long street, wondered how I would make it another seven miles. For that matter, how would I make it another nineteen when I tried to run my first marathon in just two months?
I slowed to a walk, feeling the acute burn of failure all the way from my lungs to my inner being. Running a marathon was one of those crazy goals I’d set for myself—right up there with hiking the Grand Canyon and becoming a published author.
But now, it seemed my goals would not be realized.
I would fail.
Dragging my feet along the loose sand and pebbles at the side of the road, I felt that all my dreams would get away from me. I didn’t have what it took to achieve them after all.
Looking back on this sad moment years ago, I now realize I didn’t have what it took to make my dreams come true. I didn’t have what it took, but lucky for me God had other plans. And He would give me the strength I needed on the journey.
You see, I did fail that day. I didn’t finish my fourteen-mile run. But God hadn’t created a quitter when He’d created me, either. He gave me a passion and drive to pursue things beyond myself. And when I couldn’t see the finish line—when it all just seemed too far away, He led me toward these passions He placed on my heart with His divine strength.
~ A Lot of Failure:
There were many hard workouts when I trained for that marathon. Many days where I didn’t reach my intended finish time, when my plantar fasciitis would start acting up, when the pain of pounding pavement for miles overcame my desire to keep going.
Likewise, on my ten-year pursuit to publication, there were many moments I’d felt the sting of failure. At my first ACFW Conference, I was actually 15 minutes late for my first-choice agent appointment. (Talk about coming in at a bad time!) Failure. I received bad contest scores. Failure. And yes, I could probably wallpaper a wall with my rejection letters. More failure.
But you know what? Even though I counted these moments as failure at the time, looking back, I see they were an important part of my journey. And while I may have had an end result in mind, both succeeding and failing were an important part of my marathons. Failing builds character. It made me more human, maybe even more beautiful. I deeply believe I can write better stories because I have experienced failure, not because I have avoided it.
~ A Need For Others:
Toward the end of my marathon training—when the workouts got to be eighteen, twenty, and twenty-two milers, I ran them with a running partner. I’m entirely convinced I wouldn’t have made it through these grueling workouts without her by my side. Someone to encourage and build up, someone who understood the pain. But also, someone to celebrate with me at the finish line.
In the very same manner, there is absolutely no way I would have stayed on this writing journey without some special women who have come along beside me. Like my running partner, both me and my writing sisters have been mutually encouraged by our relationship with one another. We sympathize with one another’s rejections and pain and doubt. And we celebrate the contest finals, the manuscript requests, the signed contracts.
Isn’t this the very reason Jesus encouraged believers to cling to one another? He knew we needed one another. For the parts that weren’t so easy and just plain hurt, but also for the parts where we simply needed companionship and someone to rejoice with. Having others by our side makes the journey all the richer, the victory all the sweeter.
~ An Act of Faith:
In the end, both running a marathon and publishing my debut novel were an act of faith. Through the years of writing failure, I chose to persevere and believe. My believing was not always perfect, and it wasn’t always beautiful. Rather, my belief was messy, sporadic, and imperfect—often like those training sessions—and yet, amazingly enough, God still chose to honor it. Because that’s who He is. Again and again, He reminds me that it’s not about me. It’s about Him, and who He is. And who is He? He’s an amazing God of grace. While I am stuck in the mud of my own pride and stubbornness, He still reaches out a hand to grasp me firm.
~ A Divine Strength:
The heroine in my novel, Freedom’s Ring, lives in fear after the Boston Marathon bombing not only denies her a marathon finish, but cripples her niece and tears apart her family. She chides herself for her fear. For not being strong enough to make amends with her family. For not being strong enough to run again.
But although her journey is filled with failure, as my own so often is, it is my hope that, in the end, tells of a more complete story. You see, I’m learning something. I’m learning that it might not be the dream—the race, the book, the hike, the career, whatever it is I am currently pursuing—so much as the journey. God isn’t so material as to help me achieve the good things in this life for the sake of achievement alone. If He helps me attain my dreams it’s to show me something about Himself. To gently prod me closer to His loving arms, to quietly soak me with His divine strength.
So it’s my wish to encourage you today, in whatever your pursuits may be. Dream big. Commit to persevering. But as you’re doing these things, recognize that there’s someone so much stronger than your drive, so much bigger than your dreams, holding out His hand to you the entire way.
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ABOUT FREEDOM'S RING:
Two years after nearly losing her life in the Boston Marathon bombing, Annie David is still far from “Boston strong.” Instead she remains isolated and defeated—plagued by guilt over her niece, crippled in the blast, and by an antique ring alongside a hazy hero’s face. But when she learns the identity of her rescuer, will he be the hero she’s imagined? And can the long-past history of the woman behind the ring set her free from the guilt and fears of the present?
Boston, 1770
As a woman alone in a rebellious town, Liberty Caldwell finds herself in a dangerous predicament. When a British lieutenant, Alexander Smythe, comes to her rescue and offers her employment, Liberty accepts. As months go by, Alexander not only begins to share his love of poetry with her, but protects Liberty from the advances of a lecherous captain living in the officers’ house where she works.
Mounting tensions explode in the Boston Massacre, and Liberty’s world is shattered as her brother, with whom she has just reunited, is killed in the fray. Desperate and alone, she returns home, only to be assaulted by the captain. Afraid and furious toward redcoats, Liberty leaves the officers’ home, taking with her a ring that belonged to Alexander.
Two women, separated by centuries, must learn to face their fears. And when they feel they must be strong, they learn that sometimes true strength is found in surrender.
ABOUT HEIDI CHIAVAROLI:
