"I have ten lonely seconds to justify my existence."
~~~~~~~British sprinter Harold Abrahams, Chariots of Fire
As far as I know, none of us here were ever Olympic athletes, but we've all known about running. Maybe not on an oval 400m track, but on the track we've built for ourselves in our daily lives. Whether or not Harold Abrahams uttered these exact words, the illustration is powerful. In that moment, his existence---his being---was defined by what he could DO, not by who he could BE. What happens when he can no longer run? Does he no longer matter?
The answer can be found in the tale of another British runner, Derek Redmond. You'll recall that at the '92 Olympics, while running the 400 meters (or metres, I suppose), he tore his hamstring, which in turn tore up his dreams of an Olympic medal. Somehow, his father came down from the stands, and together they completed the lap. Officially, Derek was listed simply as "Did not Finish," but unofficially he and his dad drew a standing O from the crowd, and those images have become an indelible part of sports history. HE didn't finish, but THEY did.
The life lesson for us is that sometimes we pull up lame, and we need help; we need someone to help us reach the finish line. Accepting that help does not diminish who we ARE. At other times, someone we love needs help---our help. Are we prepared to jump down and fight our way through the crowd, and offer that help?
I pray that today we won't be too hard-headed to accept help when we need it, or too timid to offer our help when someone else needs it.
Get well, DD. You're never far from our thoughts. With Blessings to all,
NT
Psalm 121
~~~~~~~British sprinter Harold Abrahams, Chariots of Fire
As far as I know, none of us here were ever Olympic athletes, but we've all known about running. Maybe not on an oval 400m track, but on the track we've built for ourselves in our daily lives. Whether or not Harold Abrahams uttered these exact words, the illustration is powerful. In that moment, his existence---his being---was defined by what he could DO, not by who he could BE. What happens when he can no longer run? Does he no longer matter?
The answer can be found in the tale of another British runner, Derek Redmond. You'll recall that at the '92 Olympics, while running the 400 meters (or metres, I suppose), he tore his hamstring, which in turn tore up his dreams of an Olympic medal. Somehow, his father came down from the stands, and together they completed the lap. Officially, Derek was listed simply as "Did not Finish," but unofficially he and his dad drew a standing O from the crowd, and those images have become an indelible part of sports history. HE didn't finish, but THEY did.
The life lesson for us is that sometimes we pull up lame, and we need help; we need someone to help us reach the finish line. Accepting that help does not diminish who we ARE. At other times, someone we love needs help---our help. Are we prepared to jump down and fight our way through the crowd, and offer that help?
I pray that today we won't be too hard-headed to accept help when we need it, or too timid to offer our help when someone else needs it.
Get well, DD. You're never far from our thoughts. With Blessings to all,
NT
Psalm 121
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