Dear Chihuahua of Fear,
I have some things I’d like to say to you.
You see, I know what it’s like to be chased by you, oh tiny, insignificant, annoying one.
Most mornings I wake up ready to go. I tie the laces of my running shoes, stretch, crank up my playlist, and get moving.
On my early morning run, I don’t usually notice if you’re there.
It could be that my playlist of praise is vastly overpowering your presence. Or, it could be that I’m simply too tired to notice that you might be trying to run me down.
But as I continue to run throughout my day, that’s when I notice you.
You nip at my heels when I continue dreaming dreams.
You chase me with your little two-inch-long legs if you think I’m moving closer to those dreams.
You bark with a sound that resembles a child’s squeaky toy, far more than a canine, at the very moments I’m finding my voice.
On the occasion that you sink your teeth in…oh, I’m sure you’re pretty proud.
But the thing is, Chihuahua, you’re little...in one swift kick, I can send you to the curb.*
I can outrun you…I’m pretty sure you can’t pull an 8:15 mile with those tiny little legs.
And when you bark? Well, I just turn up the praise a little louder and let my Father speak over the fear.
You may bite, sometimes. You may draw a little blood, make me cry…you may even leave a mark.
But, guess what?
Those emphasis-on-the-word-little marks are going to be nothing more than tiny battle wounds. Scars to remind me of overcoming and victory and the fact that
I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.
Philippians 4:13 (NIV)
*My apologies to all chihuahua lovers; no chihuahuas were harmed in the writing of this post. 😉