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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!
by William McDonald, PhD
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