Don’t stop. Get it. Get it.

“Don’t stop. Get it. Get it.” Oh, how tickled I was to be able to let the melodious lyrics of Uncle Luke from my hair-sweating dance days of the 90’s lead the way to this post. I’ve always been one to find inspiration in the strangest of places, and be able to add a dose of good, grown-up, Godly sense with it. With that said, I, in no way condone the words to that Miami, base-laden chart topper (sadly, at least in my little T-town college world it was a chart topper). In fact, when I googled the phrase I was embarrassed when I really read what Luke and his Crew were talking about. I felt a twinge of uncontrollable heat in my face that was ushered in by a bit of shock and disbelief at the fact that I actually liked this song. Good thing I only remembered part of the lyrics. Still, there’s something about that one line that sticks to me like powdered sugar from a funnel cake on my favorite Easter frock. The more I try to get rid of it, the more it seems smear in and hold on for dear life. Today, as I repost this blog post for the umpteenth time, is one of those days.

Seriously though, how many times have we been so close to the finish line only to quit on our “it”. Your “it” may not be my “it”. Our “it” may have changed from season-to-season or situation-to-situation. Our “it” may be a blessing initially masquerading as a burden. Our “it” may be personal, social, relational or spiritual, or all of the fore mentioned. Our “it” may hurt. Our “it” may get on our nerves. Our “it” may make us want to forget it. We might not have even asked for our “it”. But our “it” is our “it” and that’s just the way “it” is. And so I hear the words, “Don’t Stop. Get it. Get it.”

Would you walk to the 101st floor of the Empire State building then turn around to walk back down because you’re tired? I think not.
Would you leave your car in the middle of 7am 65 N, from the Alabaster exit traffic, and walk on the interstate because you don’t want to be behind the wheel? I believe not.
Would you stay in school for 15 years, 11 months and two weeks then quit just days before strutting across the stage to receive your diploma with honors? I know not.
Would you work as hard as you have already worked for whatever you have or hope to have then throw in the towel just before the victory-winning buzzer? I hope not.

Regardless of how long “it” takes, how heavy the load or how hard “it” might appear our “it” is our “it”. We have to want “it” like our lives and legacies depended on it….because they often do. Never quit on your “it”.