Oh, I’m so, so, SO excited to share Fiona’s words with you today. She’s one of the many talented writers out there that I enjoyed from afar for a while before braving the first email. Since then, it’s been even more wonderful to get to know her a little bit. Today, she writes over here rich, beautiful words about the paths that stretch out before us.
You are my competition.
I stood beside you, on that starting line and we started racing
limbs still chubby with baby fat, pigtails flying
you with the prettiest hair clips and the enviable my little pony collection
you with the neatest handwriting and the most gold stars
you with all the words and the right dance moves to the newest pop song.
We run and run and I push every ounce of energy into these
young legs just to keep up with
you the one who the boys want to hang around near, jostling for attention
you with the perfect style perfectly poised between trendy and quirky
you with the easy straight A’s, the assurance of an Oxbridge offer.
We run on, my heart beating fast now, breath coming shorter
harder, but I must keep pace with
you the one dating the CU president and whispers of a ring
you the tutor’s favourite, the job offers already arriving
you with the perfect smile in church and the easy way of praying out loud.
We run and we run and we run until the sweat
drips into my eyes and my chest feels like
it will explode
but I must keep up, must keep pace, must prove I can do it until
The path divides and I stumble to a stop
There you run ahead on my left, a new partner to run with, baby in the sling.
And there you go on my right, career reaching new heights, another promotion on the horizon.
And you, heading further away, with your church speaking schedule and the book contract signed.
My chest heaves with the weight of exertion and competition
a tightness creeping with the promise of tears
my breath comes fast and shallow.
Which of you am I supposed to keep up with?
How can I keep pace with you all?
How am I supposed to know which path to take?
And then a voice
unruffled and unworried
A word spoken over my shoulder
in my ear
This is the way, this is your way
Walk this way
Run this path
You will run and not grow weary
you will walk and not be faint.
I lift my tired head and see a path stretching
forward from my worn out feet
an empty path, my own path
no one to jostle with compete with keep up with
this is not a racetrack, no
this is a run to enjoy
every step of
And so I take that first step.
A little bit about Fiona: I’m a British woman living in Luxembourg with my Danish husband. I love celebrating, gathering people together, seeing the new friendships and plans that emerge. I love seeing people find their role in God’s big story and I’m still trying to find mine. My one word for the year is “brave,” because I don’t want to let fear be the reason I miss out on all God has for me. I blog at fionalynne.com/blog and tweet at @fiona_lynne.