Bits and Pieces Come to Mind...

Today I remembered that on the morning of the crash I was at a half marathon to benefit ovarian cancer research.  My husband and our eldest son had been training for months and I was a last minute volunteer fill-in.  The task assigned to me was directing the runners at a portion of the course that unexpectedly veered across the railroad tracks to cut down alongside the river.  The day was cold and windy in that elevated and exposed spot, so I determined to be the best volunteer possible.  I waved my turquoise shirt-flag in a wide arc, calling to the runners “Keep it up – this way – almost there – hardest part is over – well done!”  Some loped past me with eyes fixed ahead or on the ground, some gave a wave, and some picked up a staggering pace with a deep breath or a smile.  Many of the runners thanked me for being there.  I was in awe of them and their athletic abilities and goals, and that pride in these strangers kept me from noticing my numbing ears and fingers as I jumped and shouted and flapped my turquoise tee.
Although I have never run a race, I have been in a marathon for almost three months now.   And I am struck today by the metaphor of the course and all the volunteers along the way.  At the beginning, someone brought a CD player and music to play while I was unconscious, innumerable people fed my family at home 2 hours away, friends and relations made the drive to sit by my bed talking to me and reporting things such as, “Stephanie opened her eyes a couple of times today”, and empathetic people packed and sent  baskets of snacks and crossword puzzles to nourish and distract my husband.  Further out, the crowds thinned to those helping arrange for wheelchairs and medical support, a comfortable spot at home… and even more meals to keep everyone strong.   Cards and flowers arrived almost every day as people expressed their love and reminded me of God’s greater love, even in the days of trial.

The primary characteristic of a marathon is that it goes on for a long, long time.  At just the right moment two different college friends wrote letters sharing the way they have wept and prayed for me and the truths about God upon which I can REST.  When pain and sleepless nights were accumulating, the gift of a boomerang and audio books unexpectedly helped me through a brutal stretch.  And just this week a dear sister appointed herself my “winter buddy” with the aim of regularly encouraging me through the remaining days (54 left!) until Spring.

I suddenly find myself smiling at the remembrance of my enthusiastic waving and flapping.
It does make a difference.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2 ESV)