Finishing Strong

It's December 31st. The last day of the year. The day everyone reminisces on the year that's passed and dreams of the year that is coming. (Or this year, the day that everyone posts "Flipagrams" on Instagram of 2013 and makes outlandish weight loss goals on Facebook.) And me? I'm right in there with everyone doing similar things. (I even made the Flipagram but haven't gotten up the gumption to post it yet.)
The other thing I did on the afternoon of the last day of the year? I went for a jog. A 3 mile jog. I overcome the feeling in my belly that felt like I couldn't do it. I fought like hell against the words in my head that were telling me that I'm not a runner, I'll never be a runner, and I shouldn't even bother. And I went. To you, maybe that isn't a big deal. To me though? It really was. You see.. I set out to only run one mile because… well… I haven't technically run (or really exercised at all) since the first of the month. And while I was out, one mile turned into two and two turned into three. Don't hear me wrong. Miles don't just add up easy for me. I'm no athlete. And quite frankly, I'm about as weak physically as they come. But I fought for it. I wanted it. I pushed myself. And as I was finishing that last mile, I heard a different voice in my head. I don't know if it was my own or my imagination or someone much greater than me, but it almost felt like it was God. And He was saying, "That's my girl. My April. Do you see her, guys? She has had the hardest year of her whole life, and this is how she is finishing it. Good grief, I'm so proud of her. I told you that you could mess with her, Satan. But I told you that this was how her year would end. I knew she wouldn't give up. Man, I'm so proud of my girl."
And so I cried as I finished that last mile. Because if I'm honest, I did almost give up once or twice along the way this year. It was painful and miserable and hard. And I don't mind saying that I will gladly never relive another day of 2013 in my life. But I'm sitting here proudly on the last day of the year knowing that even while things are still not perfect, I still don't have answers, and life is still freakishly hard some days, I made it this year. I showed up every day, never fully threw in my towel, and I'm five hours away from starting a brand new year full of brand new memories and struggles and joys and pains. And that's enough. I'm enough.
So bring it on, 2014. Throw at me what you will. I've got a power greater than you that knows I'm gonna make it through.

(On second thought, bring on what you will 2014, but let's make this year a little easier and more fun, shall we?)