The Finish Line
This morning I had the opportunity to volunteer at a half marathon with a group of coworkers. My assignment was to hand out water and Gatorade at mile marker 6. The last runner to pass our station was a man in red shorts. He looked tired and downtrodden but seemed determined to continue on. As he accepted the Gatorade I offered, he made the comment that we could pack up and leave because he was the last one. I informed him there were still a few more people (we had just been told that), and a shimmer of hope flashed across his face. A moment later I looked up and realized there was a white truck following closely behind, packing up the orange cones. It upset me that they would be so obvious about the fact he was the final runner. How disheartening that would feel! What harm would it have caused for them to wait a few extra minutes before cleaning up the course? We cheered him on his way, packed up our gear, and left to meet up with the rest of our crew.
At the finish line, we handed out mugs and congratulated the racers on their feat. On three separate occasions, I was told I could leave. I was torn because I had to be at church at 11 am, but I wanted to see the man in red shorts cross the finish line. I decided to wait. I had cheered for him at the "You're almost half way!" point and wanted to be there when he finished. Two hours passed, and I continued to wait. Three of my coworkers decided to stay as well. We watched as the race coordinators began to pack up the banners, barricades, and other equipment. Very few people remained. We worried that maybe our friend wasn't able to finish the race after all. Still, we waited. We didn't want him to cross the finish line alone. At last we received word that he was approaching the final stretch. I anxiously watched in the distance until I saw him coming around the bend. My coworkers and I immediately started cheering, and the announcer called out his name over the loud speaker. We screamed for joy as he crossed the finish line and congratulated him on finishing the race. I was so happy that he made it.
This experience caused me to reflect on our Heavenly Father's plan for us. He sent us to this earth to receive our mortal bodies so we could become more like Him. The race wouldn't be easy, but He promised to give us what we would need in order to make it to the finish line. Just as the racers had arrows showing them the way to go, we have scriptures, church leaders, personal revelation, etc. to keep us on the right path. He even sent His son, Jesus Christ, to show us the way. We aren't alone in our journey either. The Holy Ghost provides comfort at times we feel like we can't make it to that next mile marker, let alone the finish line. We also have family, friends, and sometimes complete strangers who encourage us to continue onward.
Sometimes I feel like that man in red shorts. The race truck is following closely behind, constantly reminding me of how slow I'm going. It's often tempting to just stop running. It's at those moments of quiet desperation that I feel God's love manifested to me in different ways: a bear hug from my nephew, a long conversation with a new friend, a compliment from a stranger, my favorite song played on the radio, a feeling of peace in my soul.
At the close of church today we sang the hymn, I Know That My Redeemer Lives (Hymn #136). As I sang the lines, "He lives to comfort me when faint" and "He lives and loves me to the end," I could picture our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ anxiously waiting for me at the finish line, hoping I would make it safely back to them. Even if I am the last runner and everyone else has given up on me, I know they will be there. Their love is the only constant thing in our lives. If nothing else, we can lean on them.
At the finish line, we handed out mugs and congratulated the racers on their feat. On three separate occasions, I was told I could leave. I was torn because I had to be at church at 11 am, but I wanted to see the man in red shorts cross the finish line. I decided to wait. I had cheered for him at the "You're almost half way!" point and wanted to be there when he finished. Two hours passed, and I continued to wait. Three of my coworkers decided to stay as well. We watched as the race coordinators began to pack up the banners, barricades, and other equipment. Very few people remained. We worried that maybe our friend wasn't able to finish the race after all. Still, we waited. We didn't want him to cross the finish line alone. At last we received word that he was approaching the final stretch. I anxiously watched in the distance until I saw him coming around the bend. My coworkers and I immediately started cheering, and the announcer called out his name over the loud speaker. We screamed for joy as he crossed the finish line and congratulated him on finishing the race. I was so happy that he made it.
This experience caused me to reflect on our Heavenly Father's plan for us. He sent us to this earth to receive our mortal bodies so we could become more like Him. The race wouldn't be easy, but He promised to give us what we would need in order to make it to the finish line. Just as the racers had arrows showing them the way to go, we have scriptures, church leaders, personal revelation, etc. to keep us on the right path. He even sent His son, Jesus Christ, to show us the way. We aren't alone in our journey either. The Holy Ghost provides comfort at times we feel like we can't make it to that next mile marker, let alone the finish line. We also have family, friends, and sometimes complete strangers who encourage us to continue onward.
Sometimes I feel like that man in red shorts. The race truck is following closely behind, constantly reminding me of how slow I'm going. It's often tempting to just stop running. It's at those moments of quiet desperation that I feel God's love manifested to me in different ways: a bear hug from my nephew, a long conversation with a new friend, a compliment from a stranger, my favorite song played on the radio, a feeling of peace in my soul.
At the close of church today we sang the hymn, I Know That My Redeemer Lives (Hymn #136). As I sang the lines, "He lives to comfort me when faint" and "He lives and loves me to the end," I could picture our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ anxiously waiting for me at the finish line, hoping I would make it safely back to them. Even if I am the last runner and everyone else has given up on me, I know they will be there. Their love is the only constant thing in our lives. If nothing else, we can lean on them.
**thank you, Bex for letting me re-post this...
I hope every one enjoys this little reminder as much as I did!
**photos from weheartit
11 comments:
that is a good story...reminds me of part of my favorite talk by elder oaks..."the challenge to become". he talks about the parable of the laborers in the vineyard and how those who had worked all day were irritated when those who only worked the last hour got the same wage as them. the response was that everyone was given what they were promised...as long as they kept up their end of the deal. this dude took longer to get there...but get there he did. i see some similarities there...deep thoughts over the lunch break.
Oh how I love this post!
Perfect timing for me to read. I plan to share it with my confirmation students tonight. Thanks!
This is wonderful post.
A great analogy.
For the past 5 years I feel like I've been run over and dragged by the truck picking up the cones. I really need to pick myself up, put on the red shorts and get myself running in the right direction. Finishing the race is everything!
Thank you for the encouragement.
Reminds me of a quote I read recently...The lord never said life would be easy, just that it would be worth it!...Inspiring post!
that was so sweet. i seriously almost cried :)
Beautiful post...the closer I get to the finish line..the harder it gets. Here's hoping we all "endure to the end"..
Kelley said it all. As I get older, that single commandment looms large over all the rest is....'endure to the end'.
I really enjoyed that.
I can totally relate to that experience when we found out we couldn't have kids. I was the man in the red shorts. I needed help, and it did help knowing the Lord was on the other end of the finish line cheering me on. I felt His presence. I appreciate the way she wrote that.
Thanks!
aw! I'm glad he finished :)
I read this on Bex'/Bex's (not sure which is grammatically correct :) blog and loved it. I told her she is like the church leaders in general conference who can beautifully relate events in their life to spiritual lessons. She seems to write so well with such ease.
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