PRESSING ON

“You got this,” I told myself at the starting line. After months of practice, I was more than ready to run the easy race someone once dubbed the “Old Farts” marathon.


Without a cloud in the sky, nor a bump in the road, I should have known it was too good to be true.


After only a few moments, the course veered, and I was swallowed up by a dark, menacing forest.


Its path was narrow, uneven, and covered with a tangle of roots that held my feet in their vise-like grip until I could only stumble single file, like a prisoner being led to her fate.


I longed to stop and get my bearings, but the sound of labored breathing behind gave me no choice but to keep moving. 


Then, he appeared out of nowhere.


Not quite six feet tall, he was hardly a celestial being of stature but a messenger from God all the same.


A halo of terry cloth circled his sweat-glistened head, and his t-shirt billowed like a robe around a frail frame. Gym socks sprouted like wings from his running shoes to cover his knobby knees. 


A ray of sun pierced the shadows and illuminated the name across his back. His friends must have called him Jerry, but I thought ‘Hope’ suited him better.


His gait was ancient but determined. Although I never heard him speak, Jerry’s courage shouted into the gloom that threatened to overtake me, “Press on! Press on!” 


I stopped cursing fate and turned to focus on the majesty God set before me - a soul that defied the aches and fears of the broken world he was traveling through and chose to finish strong.


Faith revived in his presence, and I followed him closely - inching forward in trust, shuffling toward the light.


Miles later, we emerged - bruised but not broken, and I claimed a hard-earned medal that now lies buried somewhere in a drawer.


Yet the lesson Jerry taught me that day was a prize I will always carry.


“Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:30-31 niv

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HEAVEN SCENT

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GOLD HEARTS, GOLD STREETS