The Long Middle

I've heard it said that if something's important, you'll find a way.

Simple enough... and if I'm being fair, there's probably a lot of truth to it.

But life seems messier than that.

Because there are plenty of things I know are important. Relationships. Health. Dreams. Promises I've made to myself. Yet somehow some of those things have a funny way of finding themselves on tomorrow's list.

Maybe yours too.

I don't know.

What I do know is that starting has never really been much of a problem for me. Ideas are easy. New projects are exciting. Possibility itself can be intoxicating.

Finishing though...

That seems to be where things get interesting.

The world celebrates beginnings. Announcements. New ventures. First pages. New habits. We love possibility because possibility hasn't had time to disappoint us yet.

But eventually, every endeavor settles into the middle. The long stretch where the excitement wears off and commitment quietly takes its place. It's there where life gets noisy. Doubts creep in. Something newer catches your eye. What once felt exciting starts feeling heavy.

And that's usually where I begin asking questions.

Am I losing interest because this thing isn't important?

Or because I'm simply uncomfortable?

Is this a sign to move on?

Or a reminder to stay?

Truthfully, I don't always know the difference.

I think about how many podcasts have gone quiet. Businesses that never made it out of infancy. Blogs abandoned. Books half written. The endless list of dreams people once cared deeply about, only to slowly move away from.

Maybe they were supposed to.

Not everything deserves to be finished.

Some things are meant to be released. Some things should be left behind. Some things serve their purpose for a season and that's okay.  

But I also wonder how many meaningful things disappear simply because nobody ever practiced finishing.

Because finishing is different; starting requires excitement.

Finishing requires something else, though:

Patience.

Humility.

Maybe even forgiveness.

Especially when life gets busy... when the doubts show up, when the thing in front of you no longer feels new.  I've got enough evidence in my own life to know I can finish things... but I've also got enough evidence to know how easy it is for me to get excited about something new.

Both are true.

Which means self-doubt still gets a seat at the table... and maybe it always will.

But lately I've been distracted from the idea that finishing is less about reaching the end and more about learning how to return.

Return after a hard day.

Return after missing a week.

Return after losing momentum.

Return after wondering if you still have it in you.

Maybe that's why some things deserve another morning.

Just because something quiet inside you says,

"Not yet."

Truth is, I don't know if that's wisdom, stubbornness, or something in between.

I just know there are enough receipts in my own life to prove that some of the best things I've experienced weren't built from intensity.

They were built from returning.