Well, we all can’t be winners, can we, or can we? I guess that’s depends on which race we’re running. 🏃🏿🏃🏽♂️🏃🏻♀️
Whichever race, we need to train, and we all know, a good coach is a good gift.
Yesterday morning, Fannie and I stepped out our front door early to find the block of our street barricaded off on both ends. Police cars were parked on the boulevard, with rows of flashing red, white, and blue lights across their hoods (in case we don’t notice?) to the west, east and north. Since being pulled over a few times, those lights unnerve me. But! There was about to be a marathon!
As the day went on, I couldn’t get running out of my head. I was never a good runner, my first race in grade school was a disaster. I fell within the first ten feet. Blaming it on gravel saved my bruised pride but there really was no gravel. I just tripped over my own two feet. I still wear those scars on my knees, though, since then, new scars have knitted themselves into the old scars on both knees.
I was a good jogger though!😃
My friend Marc was a good runner. He ran track. He coached his sons to be good runners too. They were in Romania once, running up mountains. Because they were Christians in a communist country they had to stay in those mountains and camp. I don’t remember the rest of that story, but as runners, they were there training for a couple months.
There wasn’t food to be had in those hills, so the boys were given pieces of fat to put on sticks and drip on bread over a fire. That’s what they ate for their meals. For two months. While they trained, running up and around those mountains as if on a marathon, 26.2 miles a day!
This got me thinking about the life race, the race, the Apostle Paul said to run as if to win the Prize, the one where there are lots and lots of winners because there’s a really good Coach.
My friend Marc knows that Coach really well, has known Him all his life, and because of that, has been running the race like a true champ, coaching and inspiring others to do the same, stumblers like me, and, oh, countless others, to keep at it when the going gets tough.
This Marc is the Marc in Just Along for the Ride.
When I stopped by for a visit yesterday after church, I told him I needed another story. When I reminded him of the last story he had told me, he smiled really big and said, “That’s it.” And I said, “No way!”
Because there’s no way the best storyteller I know is getting off that easy.
There’s a chapter in the book about the basketball court Marc built in the village where he was a doctor in Bulo Burte, Somalia. In case you haven’t read the book, I don’t want to spoil it, so I will only say that three of the boys, who shot hoops with Marc there, came to visit him here in America, recently. They’d heard news he was dying. It was important for them to come.
They are old men now, of course, and as they gathered around his bed, you can imagine there were lots of tears and prayers, and they were blessed. Life hasn’t been easy for these three men, who at one time were kids Marc coached, and now look older than Marc does.
Why is that?
Honestly, I can’t tell you how many caregivers have been more than blessed, they’ve been transformed, during this time of hospice, alone, over these past months with Marc and Nancy. (They are an amazing team, these two.) They have a special knack for opening hearts that have been closed, for one reason or another, to God. I’ve seen it, seen the tears, the joy, the new light in peoples’ eyes.
So, it’s not hard to write another story about being just along for the ride. Every day brings miracles. And winning the race, is nothing short of a miracle for most of us. Think of those barricades and red flashing lights…
Did it seem less steep to you when you started out— the race I mean? The closed roads and obstacles sometimes showed up more obvious earlier on. It’s the sneaking little slips that trip me up now, like the doubts when I should be trusting…
After a while, you might feel quite alone on the journey. How do you keep going?
I remember my mom’s words, “I’m going all the way, Debs!” I wasn’t sure what she meant that day, but I learned, and I was there when she won. There was glory in that room that day!
Sometimes now, I see Marc reaching up his hand and I’m sure he’s reaching out to touch an angel. I know they are there in that room, hovering, watching, waiting for Jesus to come. He will. At the perfect moment, but until then, there are more stories to tell!
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If you haven’t read the story about this couple who said, Yes, and discovered that God is still doing extraordinary things through ordinary people, why not? Here’s what some are saying: 😃
“I am inspired. I knew parts of their story but there was so much more! I thought of the travel and sacrifice. Thank you for sharing. I’m savoring it and reading it slowly. I love the transparency and vulnerability. Besides, it’s fun. Jesus is always with us.” —Linda Strom
Or this one:
“I’ve started reading your book, and I loved everything about it, the title, the simplicity and the power all at once, but the part about Africa I love the most. It takes me back to my childhood home. I speed though the pages because there is no other way to read it but urgently. The details get me every time: airport arrivals with the kids in tow. The steely strength of Marc and Nancy. I pray that your words reach far and wide because, these two beautiful people’s faith is a boundless gift to the world, in need of healing.” —Aisha Sarwari
From Amazon on the 5 star reviews:
“Customers find the book’s spiritual content inspiring, with one noting it’s a true testament to the power of spiritual commitment. The book receives positive feedback for its readability, with one customer describing it as a must-read for any age.”
Ok, that’s all for today, bye for now!❤️
(Oh, one more thing, if you have read the book, and haven’t written a review on Goodreads or Amazon, we’d be really grateful if you took a few minutes to say a few words. It helps get the word out! (Literally.) 😌 @Ten16Press