The Race of a Lifetime

I wasn’t even half way to the finish line when all of the rest finished.

I was in the sixth grade in Austin, Texas when “bussing” was introduced. For those not familiar with “bussing,” this was an idea to integrate the school system. They took our pearly white middle school and “bussed” in other 6th graders from South Austin. The kids got off the bus the first day. There was probably 90% African American and 10% Hispanic. This brought a healthy mix of race to Lucy Reed Middle School.

This was great for diversity, but was a nightmare on track and field day. I remember going to Mrs. Conner’s class to look at which heat I was to run. There it was, the 100-yard dash. Let’s see…it was me and 5 other black kids running in the same race.

For those of you who know me, sprinting is not really my thing to begin with…but especially under these circumstances. It was time for my heat. Everyone was stretching, getting ready to set the new Lucy Reed Middle School 100-yard dash record. I wasn’t. I stared at my dad on the sidelines. I remember him giving me the “thumbs up” sign. He was doing his best to encourage me as I was about to face certain humiliation. We lined up.

“Runner’s ready.” Bang! The gun goes off. All I remember is staring at the back ends of my 5 classmates. The distance increased between us, until I saw them break the tape. I wasn’t even half way to the finish line when all of the rest finished.

It was at that point that I “pulled up” with a hamstring strain. Oh, please! I couldn’t have been healthier…I was just short, slow and a little plump.

You know what? My father rushed onto the track and helped his son off. He put my arm around his neck and helped me limp off the track…whispering “its o.k. son, don’t worry about it. You did a good job.” It was like a movie when all of the noise of the stadium hushed for me to hear the words of my father.

My hamstring injury didn’t last long. It was miraculously healed. It was healed by the words of my father…my daddy. He spoke life into my world, as I faced a trial.

I listen to my Father’s voice today, as He speaks truth in my life during this trial. Everything is background noise to my Daddy’s voice. I pray that I hear His voice tomorrow louder than I do today.

I love that when we face our trials, our Father is there waiting to put our arm around His shoulder and quietly speak truth into our lives.