Finishing Strong--A Life Lesson in What it Means to Finish Strong

Every student finished the race. Or, so I thought.

Teachers, parents, and students lined the pathway leading up to the finish line. They cheered and applauded with vigor as each of the kids passed by.

"You can do it!" voices called out to a few stragglers who lagged behind.

"Don't give up! You're almost there! You did it!"

About 200 kids participated in our elementary school's 5K Fun Run. Some sprinted. Some jogged. Some strolled. Some walked. Twenty-five minutes after the last student crossed the finish line, we all began to disassemble. Then the principle and a few teachers huddled near the corner at the edge of the school property. They informed us there was one more runner—a boy in a wheelchair. He had no legs to run on. With two pint-sized arms he pushed on his wheels, block after block, mile after mile.   

(To order photo Click Here)

An announcement was made. All the 5^th and 6^th graders who ran in the race were asked to return to the finish line to welcome in the last racer—the boy who couldn't run.

My friend and I got to the corner and looked down the street to see a boy with a smile as wide as the street pushing himself along. His name was Jag.

Surrounding him were a group of his closest friends, a few parents, and a police officer, who drove alongside in a squad car. For nearly ten minutes, we watched this boy make his way towards the school.  It had been more than an hour since the race began.  As the applause grew louder , students called out his name.

"Jag! Jag! Jag!" With each call, Jag pushed a little harder, a little stronger.

Watching the scene unfold, several of us moms wrapped our arms around each other. Tears ran down our cheeks as we witnessed the sweet taste of victory. With so much wrong in the world—this felt so right. It was humanity at its best. My heart beat faster and faster. It beat for a boy who rolled his way to the finish line to show us all what it means to finish strong.

Today, I'm speaking at a cancer fund raiser for a woman who is who is running a race against time, hoping chemo and radiation will lend her more of it. Just like Jag, Ora will push herself along until her race is complete. Ora may not be the fastest. She may not be the swiftest. She may not be the strongest, but I guarantee you whatever the outcome Ora will finish strong. Those who love her and support her will see to it. (I'm with you Ora!)

Remember...

"The race is not to the swift,

nor the battle to the strong,

neither yet bread to the wise,

nor yet riches to men of understanding,

nor yet favour to men of skill (Ecclesiastes 9:11)."

We all run a different kind of race with our strengths and weaknesses in tow. Some weaknesses are of our own choosing which we must learn to let go of so we can finish—strong. 

God is standing on the side lines cheering us on, but he's not going to push us—even when we're tired and blistered because he knows what true victory means.

After today's race, I'm grateful— for two working legs that can run a 5K—but more so for a young boy in a wheelchair whose legs couldn't...but whose heart wouldn't...keep him from finishing strong.

To ORDER the poster shown above CLICK HERE.

******  Whatever your race, finish strong. ******