I’m listening to the soundtrack of The Two Towers right now. I was just reading some more of the book. Suddenly, in the past few weeks, I’m crazy about Tolkien again. I blame The Hobbit. Since I saw a trailer for the first installment a year ago, I couldn’t wait. To return to Middle-earth, and explore it further; to be reunited with familiar characters, and introduced to new ones. So when it finally hit theaters, right before Christmas break, I was at the midnight opening—I couldn’t wait a minute longer. (Now I can’t wait for the next one.) It had been several years since I last read The Lord of the Rings, and even longer since I’d read The Hobbit, and watching the new movie whet my appetite. So at the beginning of the break I started The Hobbit, and I’m almost done with The Two Towers now. I also watched The Lord of the Rings (the Extended Editions, of course) and the accompanying documentaries in the newly-added iTunes Extras. And I listened to all four soundtracks a bunch.

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I love The Lord of the Rings. In recent years, I’m more into Christian literature than novels. I’m not a huge fan of the fantasy genre, in particular. But Tolkien is the exception. And while other movies have come along that I’ve really enjoyed and would consider among my favorites, these movies stand on their own. I’ve read the book several times (and many of his other books, which together tell the history of Middle-earth.) I’ve watched the movies again, and again, and again. There’s just something about them that captivates me. Certainly, Tolkien was a genius, creating this entire world, its history, its languages. Part of what makes Tolkien’s work stand apart from all the fantasy stories that have followed is the incredible depth. He didn’t write some stories, inventing aspects of a world as needed to fit the stories. He created an entire world, and then set his stories in it. And the stories themselves are incredible.

And then Peter Jackson and his team did an incredible job of bringing Tolkien’s epic novel to the screen. The movies themselves are stunning, but also impressive is the work that went into making them—from creating the illusion of the size of the hobbits and dwarves, to recreating battles on the scale of Helm’s Deep and the Pelennor Fields, to bringing Gollum to life. Just as Tolkien’s work is a literary masterpiece, Jackson’s work is a cinematic masterpiece.

But I think there’s a deeper reason yet. They’re so relatable, and so true—not in the sense that they actually happened. But in the sense that they offer a glimpse into reality that we miss most of the time. Even though Tolkien was adamant that The Lord of the Rings was not allegorical, there’s still so much truth in them. Like the hobbits of the Shire, most of the time we’re completely absorbed in what we see around us, our own day-to-day, mundane lives, which don’t seem all that glamorous or that big a deal, really. We live our lives completely unaware of the bigger picture, and we need a reminder of the truth. The truth that, like Middle-earth, our world is locked in an epic war, where the forces of good and of evil battle for its fate, where the evil one will stop at nothing to have dominion over all life on this earth, and seeks to destroy all who oppose him. And so much of the time it looks like he is winning. The world seems dark and hopelessly evil when we hear news of the senseless killing of children, or when, from half a world away, I watch the country I call home falling apart because of extremists and corrupt politicians.

But in the midst of this battle, we see heroism where least expected—including in ourselves. We find ourselves called to a mission of utmost importance, and even deadly peril. We find fellowships that stand with each other through thick and thin to carry that mission out. But then those fellowships are broken, as friends, though eternally bound by friendship and love, must go their separate ways. We live in a tale of friendship, and loyalty, and sacrifice. Of danger, and betrayal, and darkness. Of epic battles, and courage, and hope. Of fell deeds and heroic ones. I see myself in these characters, and the story unfolding around me in theirs. And that gives me hope, and courage, and a desire to rise up to the calling on my life. Why do I love The Lord of the Rings? The best answer comes from the movies themselves. When hope seems lost for Frodo and Sam, captive in Osgiliath, Sam nails it:

“It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it’ll shine out the clearer. Those are the stories that stayed with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going, because they were holding onto something.”

“What are we holding onto, Sam?”

“That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.”

I need to write a short essay for a scholarship application. They gave a few typical prompts, and the option to write about a topic of my choice, or to reuse an essay I wrote for class or for a college application. Being a junior in an engineering major, I haven’t exactly written many essays in the last few years. Several for psychology my freshman year, and one about the environment in geology. After staring at my cursor blinking for a good while, I decided to go back and dig through my old college applications for some inspiration. Not to straight-up recycle one. A lot has changed in the three years since I was writing those. But I thought I might find one that would be a good starting point. I came across a document named “Personal statement”—I apparently hadn’t bothered to specify what I was writing it for. But between the essay itself and the prompt, which I also had (but which didn’t say specifically what it was for, either) it seems that I was writing this after having been accepted to Tech, for something related to financial aid. Anyways, it really struck me. But I’ll let you read it, and then add some comments at the end (where I pick back up in italics.)

Purpose In Every Step

Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win! All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified.

1 Corinthians 9:24-27

Throughout the New Testament, the Apostle Paul repeatedly compares the Christian life to running a race. As an athlete myself, the analogy has special significance to me. A lot of people talk about “chapters” of their lives. I would be more inclined to see my life as a series of races in some sort of Olympic track event, all striving for the great prize my King will award me at the end of it all. The problem with the chapters analogy is that you read a book kicking back in a hammock, flipping the pages and watching the story unfold without exerting yourself in any way. The life of faith, though, is a serious business. It is not something you live out in a hammock. It requires all the devotion, discipline, and focus of training for and running a marathon. So “I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us” (Philippians 3:14). The finish line of high school is rapidly approaching, and before I know it I will hear the gunshot telling me to lunge across the line into yet another race—college. I am somewhat unsure about it, not really knowing what is in store around that curve in the track up ahead, but I have motivation to keep running no matter what.

I have come to see myself in my proper place—part of the grand, epic story starting with the narrative in Genesis and that will eventually finish as foretold in Revelation. In this story every one of us has a role to play. Living just for my story only motivates me so far, but to be caught up in a story that transcends my life gives me a cause worthy of every moment of my life. I have a reason to get out of bed every morning. In Hebrews 11, Paul lists many people in Scripture and the legacies they left behind. Each of them has played out their role and left their mark on history. Then he brings it back to us, saying, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). This verse has been recited so many times it has lost a lot of meaning, but just the other day it clicked. It makes a world of difference to read it in the context of the preceding chapter, instead of reading the verse in isolation as is so often done. Paul is saying, “Look at the people I’ve just listed. Look at all God accomplished through them because of their faith. They are your heritage, they’ve handed off the baton to you, and now they are sitting in the stands cheering you on as you run your leg of the race. You’re one of them; their God is yours. You will see God work powerfully in your life if you let yourself be caught up into the epic that they were living in—His story.”

So with that mindset, I keep running no matter what is ahead and I trust God to be faithful, as He has been faithful so far. This track has had plenty of uphills and downhills, but God’s hand has been in it all, and in retrospect I wouldn’t change a thing if I could. He has been with me through countless transitions, upheavals, and storms, and He has blessed me beyond measure. As the prophet Isaiah said:

Even youths will become weak and tired,
And young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not grow faint.

Isaiah 40:30-31

Through everything, God has continued to give me new strength for each step, for each new difficulty. When the deteriorating situation in the country we live in brought my family’s annual trips to the mountains to an end and later made us move from our home of twelve years to another city, God was still there. When my heart was broken in ninth grade and I was left devastated, God took my by the hand and helped me back up, and gave me strength to keep running. Time and time again, God has carried me over each hurdle that crosses my path.

So as I once again face an uncertain future, it is God whom I will continue to trust my life to. He is the One laying out the path before my feet. He has given me the passions and characteristics that have led me to choose a career in engineering—a love and gift for physics and math, an instinct for problem solving, an fascination from a young age with designing and building bridges and buildings out of Legos, playing cards, and anything else I could find that would do the trick—and has opened the door for it to happen. As I hear about Virginia Tech’s reputation and look at the Blacksburg area, all of which is very appealing, I believe that if Virginia Tech is where he wants me he will open the door financially. The race is in His capable hands.

The first thing to hit me was how little has changed after all, in terms of the themes I was writing about. If you read my blog regularly, a lot of what I wrote in this essay should sound familiar. I’ve come back to this analogy time and time again over the years. I gave a talk in my Engage Group towards the end of this past semester about this. While some of these concepts have developed further in my mind since writing this, I used a lot of the same points and these same verses in that talk as I did in this essay. Reading it in an essay I wrote three years ago was kind of crazy.

The second thing to hit me was what wasn’t in that list of difficulties, because it hadn’t happened yet. I knew I was facing a huge transition and an uncertain future, but I don’t think I really knew just how tough it would end up being. Since writing those words, I went through what is to date my greatest trial yet. And yet again, God proved that he is worthy of my trust.

Several weeks back I wrote a post titled, “I’ve got this.” I almost called it “Letting go,” but I felt like I needed to save that title. I got this sense that that post was more of a prequel. The part where God says, “I’ve got this.” And while there was some letting go on my part then, I had a feeling a post would follow, at some point, that would really be the point of letting go. Well, here it is.

I hit a breaking point tonight. All this stuff that’s been been popping up here and there, elusively, finally came rushing to the surface. I hadn’t realized how much all these different things had just been adding up, building up pressure, until the dam broke.

This past week was Thanksgiving break, and a lot of these things came to a head over break.

I went into break with a lot of somewhat lofty expectations of what I wanted to get done with all my free time. I had some homework to work on that’s due later this week. I could always get it done closer to the due date, but with a whole week off, I could spare some time to knock it out so I wouldn’t have to later. I wanted to get my desk under control, and my inbox. I wanted to work on scholarship applications. Most of all, I wanted to spend a lot of time seeking God—reading, praying, whatever. I especially wanted to focus that time on praying about some major life decisions and stuff. I knew, from experience, that it was crazy to expect to get everything done that I was hoping to. But I thought it was realistic to think I’d get some of it done.

Zip. Zilch. Zero.

I might have set a personal record for how little I did this break. I mean, I did a few things with people. But outside of that, when I was just chilling in my room…I played games on my iPad. I read up on technology blogs. I watched Quantum of Solace so I could see it again before watching Skyfall (I watched Casino Royale a couple weeks back.) The most productive thing I did was to go through my 170 photos from my weekend in DC and throw out more than two thirds of them, and do some editing on the ones that passed.

But the break just went by so fast. I spent the first weekend in DC with some friends. I got back late Sunday night. So I slept half of Monday away, and then bummed around for what was left. On Tuesday I went to a “Pie Day” at the international center—basically, a potluck lunch, all pies (both sweet and things like pot pie and quiche)—and again, did nothing for the rest of the day. (One of those two nights was the night I watched Quantum of Solace.) At this point, I thought I still had the rest of the week to get those things done. On Wednesday I started physical therapy on my knee. Thursday, being Thanksgiving, I wasn’t about to get into homework or cleaning or anything. I had Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of the international students our Engage Group has connected with. On Friday I went to physical therapy again, and that evening I watched Skyfall with a friend. On Saturday I watched us beat UVA for the ninth straight time. And then Sunday was back to normal. Sleeping in, and then going to 130 Jackson at 5 for sound check before the 707. OK, so maybe I didn’t set any records after all. At least not the one I thought I did. On second thought, I think I did more this break than any week-long break since coming here. But it was all hanging out with people (and physical therapy.) I didn’t do any of the things I had in mind that I was gonna do. So when the end of the break came, and I realized I wasn’t able to check a single thing off that list, I got really frustrated with myself. And discouraged. And tonight, with classes back underway, that homework still hanging over me, my room still a disaster zone, my iPad telling me that I have 272 unread messages, of 1031 total (They’ve been piling up a while. The unread ones are messages that I judged by the subject line that I didn’t really need to read—and never came back to)…I just felt really overwhelmed. And in that moment, all kinds of things that have been weighing on me came to the surface.

It was at this point that I decided I needed to drop what I was doing, and let God speak to me. He was using this stress to bring all this stuff forward that I’d been bent over double over, without even realizing it. I knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to keep pushing forward with homework. I needed to step away, and try to process all this stuff. I felt like the best first step was to start by just writing out everything. All of those things that were overwhelming me, frustrating me, filling me with guilt or shame, everything that God was bringing out in me right now. I didn’t really know where to go from there. I started praying, and God brought the chorus of a Third Day song to mind:

Take it all, cause I can’t take it any longer
All I have, I can’t make it on my own
Take the first, take the last
Take the good and take the bad
Here I am, all I have, take it all

I cued the song, to listen to the whole thing. As it played, I thought of the series that we just finished at [nlcf], about freedom. One of the things that was discussed a lot was things that stand in the way of freedom, that we need to let go of. Things that often are even seen in secular culture as exercising freedom, but that really are obstacles to true, biblical freedom. I also remembered something I noticed for the first time the other night. Hebrews 12:1-2 says:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne.

I’ve always read the part about stripping off weight with the emphasis on sin. What struck me the other night is that is says “every weight that slows us down, especially the sin…” Yes, it highlights sin. But it is clearly implying that not every weight that slows us down is sin.

In my case, while some of the stuff that God brought to mind tonight is sin, much of it is not. But it’s still weighing me down.

Then he brought a line from another song to mind. This one is Magnificent Obsession, by Steven Curtis Chapman.

Cut through these chains that tie me down to so many lesser things
Let all my dreams fall to the ground, until this one remains

Of course, I had to listen to this one in its entirety too. As the song finished, I wrote,

God, I want to be free. I want to die to myself…I want to run the race for you. Strip me of everything weighing me down and tripping me up. I’m through trying to make this work on my own. Here I am. All I have. Take it all.

I’ve found over the years both of these songs are songs I come back to time and time again. As long as we walk on this fallen earth, we will need to keep coming back to this. Keep putting our old selves to death, surrendering to Jesus, letting him take our burdens. Tonight I needed that again.