I fancied myself a
track star during my high school years. But I had neither the genetic makeup
nor the will power to excel in that department.
Granted, I ran the 440
yard dash, but dashing was a poor verb for what I managed to do. But I
thought myself fortunate to never finish last; (next to the last, but never
last).
Jack K. was a whole
‘nother story. Characterizing him as fast would have been an gross
understatement. He was “a god” on the asphalt circle. Where I struggled to
break the 60 second mark, Jack jogged it in less time.
I remember one track
meet in particular, not for the location since I have no idea these forty years
hence where it was held. But it was one of the more momentous days in my life;
(or more precisely in Jack’s life).
Our track hero was in
the lead as he rounded the last curve, and he seemed oblivious to every other
runner. His eyes were “glued” to the finish line; his mouth curled into a
painful grimace.
It had rained that day
and there was an unusual amount of water on the track. Suddenly the unthinkable
occurred. Jack slipped five yards from the finish line, and began to
hydroplane… on his stomach and chest. And slid in first place!
Apparently he’d been far enough ahead of the other runners that falling down in
a straight line was good enough for a win. (No one said he had to cross the
finish line on his feet).
Poor Jack’s chest and
belly were raw. Blood trickled down his torso. But he was a winner nonetheless.
My admiration for him doubled that day. And it will always be one of my most
poignant memories. (He’s gone now, having died in his fifties, but I think he
left us a valuable lesson. Funny, I’ve wondered if anyone else remembers his
wet and bloody win. But it’s “ink on paper” now, so perhaps it’s enough).
My moral is so simple,
yet so profound. We need only read Hebrews 12.
“Seeing how we’re
surrounded by such a great crowd of witnesses, let us strip off everything that
hinders us, and the sin that so easily besets us, and let us run with patience
the race that is set before us.” (KJV)
My counseling associate
has a motto that has never failed her, and it’s only tonight that I tied it
into that memory of so long ago.
“If every time I fall
down, I get right back up, I only a get a little bit stronger.”
Jack’s momentum was
nothing short of fantastic that day. I think that his energy and efforts
surpassed every other runner on the field. And not even a slip prevented
him from taking the crown.
Friends, we have
nothing to lose and everything to gain. The finish line is so close. I often
encourage my clients to “stay the course” and to “go the distance.”
This life will wind
you. It will trip you up. You may even fall down. But I hope you fall down
trying. I hope you fall down winning,… since there’s a race to be finished and
a reward to be won.
And dear ones, if you
fall down, get up again. If you’re jostled into the infield, get right back on
the track. If you find yourself bruised and bloodied, you’re in good company.
Jack got up again on
that memorable day. Literal sweat, blood, and tears drenched his face and
torso. But I hardly noticed.
I was too busy admiring
the ribbon on his chest!
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