Lets honor those who lost their lives, respect the new challenges by those who lost limbs, give thanks for the first responders by wearing race shirts today.
Feeling beyond thankful today for my momma. I featured my mom’s running goals in the Athlete Spotlight section of the blog a year ago. You can read it here, scroll down to BBQ (Better than a Boston Qualifier) post. She was fresh off the Dallas Marathon and needed 4:05 to qualify. She ran a 4:09 that race. The explosions went off at 4:10 at the Boston finish line. I reread that post and had an eerie feeling tonight.
What if my mom got in Boston, she was only 4 minutes off? What if she deferred to run it this year? What if she ran slightly slower than her BQ time and finished at 4:10? What if she was standing waiting for her finisher medal and heat blanket? What if… I had to stop and pray last night because my mind likes to take off down a rabbit hole of despair with no hope…. which means it is not from the Lord.
I had to “take captive every thought,” reclaiming it to God who is able to calm my fears. Jesus loves me and knows that I do not need my “what ifs” at night, but He is gentle enough to give me peace and rest. Who am I to complain when others really did lose their family members today? All I need to do is pray, but human nature is to put ourselves in their running shoes at that finishing line cheering on our loved ones or just finishing the race with a huge sense of accomplishment.
We need to cheer on the ones who recently lost limbs. As a runner, I can think of no greater pain than to lose a limb and my identity as a runner. Many might learn this morning that they lost their limbs after waking up from anesthesia. They have multiple upcoming surgeries and scores of physical therapy sessions that will end in tears. Join me and praying for them. Not feeling sorry for them, but encouraging them in their new, uncharted journeys. It will be hard, it will be painful, but God is there every step of the way.
I remember after my dad passed away when I was in high school, our rival soccer team in my small town all wore gold arm bands in our game. They came up to me after the game, hugged me, and told me stories about my dad. (We all played club together, but were on rival school teams.) I felt so loved, knowing that they wore arm bands not because they felt sorry for me, but because they respected my dad. It unified us as girls grieving a loss of a daddy.
I feel the same sense of unity this morning. So let us honor those who lost their lives, respect the new challenges by those who lost limbs, and give thanks for the first responders by wearing race shirts today.