This will likely publish after I've already completed/attempted the Detroit Half Marathon. I'm writing anyway. Because this is what I do best: I freak out, write a little while, maybe have a big-girl cry session, and write some more. And as the hours keep rolling away, I'm left with a whole new bout of anxiety and fear.

But this isn't really new. I've been writing about this fear all season. I've been writing about feelings of inadequacy, I've been writing about the way this cause has shaped and molded me in ways I never really could have imagined. I'm beyond elated that I have the opportunity to speak on these issues on such an expansive platform. I'm beyond excited for the work our team has done to make a real difference in the lives of so many. I'm in awe of the way God has humbled me through this experience.

But I'm scared out of my mind.

I shouldn't be. A teammate said to me just the other day, "you 'gots' this because you 'gots' a Big God." She's totally right. God is bigger. He is bigger than the 'strength' in my legs. He is bigger than 13 miles. He is bigger than the issues we fight for. He is bigger than all of my pent up fear. He has the ability to concur all obstacles. Upon receiving this message, the Veggie Tales song, "God is Bigger than the Boogie Man" popped immediately into my head. (If you are unfamiliar with this song, familiarize yourself immediately.) It really is an 'elementary' concept, but is also one that I think so many of us have yet to grasp.

God is Bigger.

But, in all honesty, I don't feel that right now.

I'm still wallowing in my fear. My stomach is churning just thinking about the way my legs could buckle beneath me. Or how I might get sick on the run, or how my training was sub-par, or how virtually anything else could go wrong. In this moment, I regret signing up for this race. I regret telling myself that I was capable when I most definitely am not. Seriously, why did I do this?

But that really is a silly question. Even though I'm grappling with the fear of the exercise (seriously, nothing has changed since high school gym class), I do know 'why' I was called. I was called to speak, shout, and scream these realities from the rooftops. I've been called to proclaim that God is good and just, and that He will ultimately break down the chains of the broken.

And if I have to run 13 miles to do that, I will. I'm just pretty scared about it.

I'm not sure what it will take to fully block out the doubt. Maybe it's through eating a big plate of spaghetti. Or perhaps a long, hard big-girl cry session, or maybe it's through repeating "God is bigger" to myself over and over until I have blocked out every other sound. I'm figuring it out. I'm praying. And as with everything, it's a work in progress.

But regardless of the doubt, regardless of the fear, and regardless of the circumstance, I am running a half marathon tomorrow. Not for me, but for the lives of so many others that have had their lives stolen from them. I am running to fight against sexual violence. I'm running because this issue is personal. And God has given me the strength and passion to allow Him to use me in the rescue of so many. Seriously, how awesome.

So with that, I'll see you at the finish line; armed with all my doubt, fear, joy, and confidence in God's ability wrapped together. I may be afraid. I may be freaking out. But God has equipped me. I am ready.