"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."
Hebrews 12:1
Almost two years ago a dear friend was suddenly stricken with a debilitating condition known as Guillain Barre Syndrome, a rare disorder that causes the body's immune system to attack the nerves. In just a few short days she went from running a couple of miles every morning to being completely bedridden and unable to walk. Throughout her time in the hospital waiting on a diagnosis, receiving treatments, and her grueling therapy at a rehabilitation facility, Paula's faith did not waver. Simple daily tasks like feeding herself or drying her hair were beyond her ability. Certainly there must have been days that she wondered why, but most often gratitude spilled out: thankfulness for family and friends' support, for the multitude of prayer warriors, for the assurance that God would work this trial out for good.
During her hospital stay, another friend, in a beautiful act of faith, encouraged Paula with an offer to run the annual Mercedes Half Marathon with her after her recovery. Surely the Lord's miraculous hand would have to intervene for this to happen, but Susan claimed Luke 1:37--"For nothing is impossible with God"--believing that complete healing would come.
I clearly remember that first walk around the track at South Shades Crest Elementary after Paula had shed her walker and received clearance from her doctors. Our pace was slow, but I was completely awed by God's healing power and this strong woman's perseverance. Just a few weeks before she had been unable to take one step and now... She talked about the other patients at the rehab center and how blessed she felt compared to many of them--and how thankful she was that the Lord had brought her this far.
Gradually over the last year full mobility and strength have been restored. Indeed the Lord has healed. Hallelujah! And so to honor Susan's promise and celebrate this triumph, seven of us (plus a few children) ran/walked 13.1 miles last Sunday. Now to make this clear--I am not a runner. (I've always claimed it might betray my heritage since my maiden name is "Walker"!) But I was inspired to try to keep up with Paula as I continually witnessed the manifestation of God's grace--mile after mile.
Thousands of people line up in downtown Birmingham at 7:00 a.m. in the misting rain--our group behind the "13+ minute mile" sign. (Yes, this is for the slowest participants!) People of every shape, size, age, ethnicity--dressed from professional running attire to mere gym shorts and t-shirts. Our goals are surely as diverse--some to win, some to claim a personal best, and some just to finish. Lots of rain ponchos at this point. The music is loud; the adrenaline palpable. Legs are eager to get moving. Within the first 2-3 miles we break into groups of twos and threes according to the pace we want to keep. (My goal is to maintain a 15-minute mile throughout the course.) At Mile 5 my dear daughter-in-law-to-be is handing out water and cheering with her PT classmates from UAB. Then I see Caleb, Son #2, among them holding a sweet sign of encouragement for Mama. A glimpse of grace.
We alternate between a brisk walk and a steady jog, the three of us catching up on life and children and giving thanks that the rain is not torrential. The miles seem to go by fairly quickly. (Perhaps because many of my training miles were solo on the treadmill at the Y or on the steep hills of Russet Woods.) No monster hills and the fellowship of friends--the keys to a sense of swiftness. Approaching mile markers is invigorating since we know there will be people cheering/encouraging while offering cups of water or Powerade, fresh orange quarters, half bananas, or a handful of gummy bears... One of my favorite groups was South Highlands Presbyterian members who stood in front of their church holding signs reading, "South Highlands is praying for your endurance." Although we had surely interrupted the normalcy of their Sunday morning, they embraced the race and created a ministry opportunity. A glimpse of grace.
I'll admit the last couple of miles were especially challenging. Diana, Paula, and I are encouraging each other: "We can do this; yes, we can do it. No, I don't know how these marathon runners did this course twice-no way, but we can do this..." Then I see a man in front of me who has a vertical message written on his calves: the left one says "PHIL" and the right one "4:13." Love that! He certainly couldn't have read it while running so he had printed that Scripture reference clearly to encourage those following him, reminding us from Whom we could get our strength to finish. A glimpse of grace.
As we near the final mile, Paula tells us that we must sprint after we turn the last corner. Yes, Paula--the one who could barely walk two years ago--urging us to finish strong. She's just in front of me, and the tears well up as I observe God's grace still in motion. Lyrics emerge: "Lord, You are good and Your mercy endureth forever..."
Then sprint we did as we turn and see the sidewalks lined with cheering supporters and hear the voice over the loudspeaker announcing congratulations to runners as they cross the finish line. Exhilarated and exhausted, I see Caleb and Dallas and beside them Hunter--Son #3-- who has driven up from Auburn that morning to surprise me. I could hold back the tears no more. Grace upon grace.
Reflecting on this first half marathon (yes, I believe I will do it again!), I begin to understand better why Paul so often used the analogy of runners in a race. It requires discipline to train and perseverance to finish. All of us finished, cheering all the while for the next one to cross the line. I am reminded of the immense power of encouragement--from friends, from family, from strangers--as we ran this race and as we run this race of life. I will always cherish the words of my children after the Mercedes as they each said, "Mom, I am so proud of you!" As sweet as that was, I long for my Father's voice at another finish line: "Well done, my good and faithful servant." And so surely this day brought some of the good that the Lord promised from Paula's trial-- fresh reminders of His ever-present grace, His goodness and power to heal, and His voice that prompts us to press on for His glory.
