A young woman is sprawled on an open grass field– her face and hands facing the direction where a huge house stands alone; yet, the house looks as though it’s ignoring her as it stares off into another direction. I can tell that she desperately wants to go to that house by the way her face is focused on it and how her arms and legs practically urge her to go, but she just can’t. Although her face is not shown, she appears drained as if she couldn’t bear to walk anymore and had to resort to crawling. Does she have the strength to reach her far destination? Or is she throwing in the towel and waiting for someone to come out of that house to notice her and possibly help her? Maybe that house is empty, but the woman is holding on to a little bit of hope that there will be someone there excited to see her, like a dog greeting its owner who has just returned from an eight-hour workday. 

It’s not until the sky transitions into a dark gray and the winds begin to pick up and blow the woman’s hair into her face, that she soon discovers that she is between a rock and a hard place; two equally difficult choices. Potentially, she could muster every little bit of determination she has left to allow her weak legs to carry her to the house to seek shelter, comfort, and other basic necessities. Alternatively, she could stay where she is, give her body a well-needed rest, but risk being caught up in a dark, frigid storm all alone. At this stage, only she can decide her own fate.

As I reflect, I realize I’ve been this woman. I know the feeling of exhaustion where I’ve wanted to keep pushing, but my body just wanted to rest. I know what it’s like to want something, but can only watch from a distance because I was unsuccessful in reaching my goal. I understand how difficult it is to keep moving forward without anyone to cheer me on or guide me through. I understand that life will throw curveballs and I may never get on base; however, I shouldn’t walk back to the dugout without swinging. 

Although it wasn’t easy for me to hear, there have been numerous times where I was told I would fail or fall short of success. Nevertheless, I didn’t want it to deter me from getting to where I wanted to see myself. Throughout my life, I’ve allowed the number of failed attempts to define me rather than all the hard work I put myself through, and that discouraged me from persevering. 

My advice to this woman: get up and start walking– don’t allow your hands and knees to take the burden when crawling. Give yourself the feeling of relief when walking up those steps leading to the house. Give yourself the feeling of anticipation when being inches away from the front door, being triumphant that you got yourself in the position to knock.