We Can Conquer Mountains

Trudge, trudge, trudge, “one more step, that’s all.” “No matter what, don’t quit.” There were times I felt like crying or collapsing, whichever came first. But I knew if I quit, defeat would consume, deflate, or sink me like an anchor at the bottom of the sea. I was in second place with the finish line at my fingertips. Who knew one could be so close yet so far away? “One foot in front of the other, just take another step, keep moving.” As I chugged through the finish line, my family cheered. My baby stretched out his arms, and I knew defeat could no longer control my life. 

I read The Little Engine That Could when my children were young. I loved the story because the small, unimpressive train rescued a broken-down train. With small strides and chugs, they trucked over the mountain to bring smiles, food, and toys to the children. A couple of fancy solid trains passed the one in need, but they were in a hurry or too extravagant to waste their time on the broken-down engine. Only when a tiny, unimpressive blue train pulled alongside the hopelessly stuck train did they have a chance of making it over the mountain. It was an unlikely chance since the little blue train had nothing but willingness. 

“The little blue engine pulled up close. She took hold of the little train. The toys and dolls climbed back into their cars. At last The Little Blue Engine said, ‘I think I can climb up the mountain. I think I can. I think I can.’ Then The Little Blue Engine began to pull. She tugged and she pulled. She pulled and she tugged. Puff puff, chug chug went the little engine. ‘I think I can. I think I can, she said.’ Slowly, slowly the train started to move.” (The Little Engine That Could)

God placed a desire for change in my heart before I started running marathons. Yet, defeat always won. I’d script my new life plans and begin strong, but two weeks in, I’d throw my hands in the air, saying, “I’m not cut out for this. I can’t do this.” 

When I’d set out with big, packaged, rigid plans, God had no room to use me. So I’d quit. The lie I believed was what I felt called to do needed to be wrapped in a perfect, shiny package. I thought I had to overhaul my whole life to change.

Failure continued like a broken record as I desperately tried to overhaul my life. I didn’t think a slow, steady, or small-step pace could fulfill all God had planned for me.

Until one day, at my lowest point, I surrendered. “I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of trying to figure out the one perfect way. I’m tired of attempting to wrap my life up in a fancy, impressive package.” 

I knew I was made to grow, but I had no idea how. In those moments of desperation and surrender, God revealed small steps and a lifeline…

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Phil 4:13 (NKJV)

I realized my dreams didn’t need to be so big. I could forego the idea of running a marathon and just run one mile. I could forgo the idea of being a perfect mom and be kind in the moment. I could forgo the idea of writing a book and write small amounts daily. 

These big-picture ideas kept me stuck and feeling like a failure, but releasing them gave me hope that God was in the small details and cared about my dreams. 

We may not be a big, fancy, impressive train, but with each chug and “I think I can,” we can conquer mountains. That’s how the unexpected train brought joy to the children, and I accomplished my dream of completing a marathon. 

God can use broken down unexpected things to accomplish his glory.