My son is in New Orleans today running his first ½ marathon. I’m impressed! This is the son who loves chocolate chip cookies for supper and hates vegetables. This is the boy who hid his spaghetti under a bookcase when he was five and always has a little milk with his chocolate. Yet for months he’s been working out and training for this event. Even watching what he eats. (To some extent) I have no doubt he can do it, and I’m cheering him on all the way…from home. I want to be at the end of his 13.1-mile journey through the French Quarter to greet him at the finish line and applaud this accomplishment. I want to tell him how proud I am of his hard work, determination, and resolve to keep going. But I won’t be there. Obligations beyond my control prevent me.
I said this was my son’s first ½ marathon, but it isn’t his first race. When he was younger he decided to run the race of faith set before him by Christ, a race I myself started years before he was born. It too requires hard work, determination, and resolve to keep on keeping on. There are distractions, detractors, and detours on this path. Some places are smooth and scenic, and others contain rough, ugly terrain. And unlike a ½ marathon, we don’t really know how far it is to the end. We just have to keep our eyes on Jesus and run with perseverance the race set before us. Two things are certain, I know he can do it, and I will be at this finish line to welcome my son and applaud his accomplishment.
This is the most important race of our lives.
I love you, Kyle! See you there!