Sometimes things happen that really leave us stunned and confused. Often times they’re the things that don’t happen on our own terms that get the better of us.
These things present hurdles for us to overcome, and when they’re first placed in our path, we look at them with bewilderment. We wonder how they got there, because they weren’t there a day before. There wasn’t even any indication they’d be coming.
Our life hurdles tell us to question ourselves. They practically mandate that we go back over every hour of every day of every week with a microscope; they demand examination, and we give in. We exhaust every possible scenario and, as such, we end up exhausting ourselves.
Hurdles tell us that even though we want to get over something, we might not. The hurdle is a time-suck, and the hurdle is OK with that.
The horizon, however, is not.
It’s off in the distance, and it’s waiting for us. The horizon has many offerings, and we can only know what they are if we stop focusing on the hurdles and fix our eyes on the landscape ahead of us — not on the barricades surrounding us nor on the potholes currently encircling our feet.
The horizon tells us to pick up the pace; to walk briskly, deliberately, and with courage.
The hurdle reminds us of the bubble we were so used to living within, and tells us that we can’t go back to it. It offers us a cave for a brief respite, but the cave is cold, damp and disheartening. The cave is exactly the break that a hurdle wants us to have, because the cave, too, is a hurdle. On the surface it is safe; in reality, it’s a hole that’s more difficult to climb out of.
The horizon and the hurdle will always duke it out, and one will always win. But it’s up to us to determine which one will be the victor.
Tonight, while they are some of the least happy times in our lives, I am thankful for hurdles. I am thankful for our mettle they force us to prove, for the blessings they force us to count and for the horizon they force us to fix our eyes upon.