I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
2 Timothy 4:7 NIV
I have a dream from which I wake with every certainty that the race has ended and I’ve won.
The track didn’t lead me in directions I’d expected nor traverse exotic and beautiful stops along the way.
It didn’t begin how I’d hoped nor included all I’d wanted, but when it was over, I recognized the destination and it was better than I’d ever imagined.
Not knowing the route, which had always been a source of fear and anxiety, turned out to be the most sensible of all the unknown paths I could have taken.
There was no checkered flag to notify those who’d always hoped for me, there was no crowd.
No floral wreaths or expensive champagne, as there was no winner’s circle in which to stand.
All my work was over.
I’d woken up and yet it had been no dream at all.
While all along I’d been asleep, I was finally awakened for the very first and the very last time in my life.