You sat across from me in your backyard and told me all the reasons why you could never overcome your fitness hurdles. Caught in a tangle of negative thoughts, you seemed so convinced that where you were is where you would stay forever.

I can’t, you said. But God had other plans.


I wake up thinking about you and the miles in your wake that have brought you to this place; a race for hope and help for the least of these, His children. Months of growing the distance and the heart with every early morning yes, every mile, every ache, daily turning out comfort for something better.

I find my running shoes and my keys to the van and drive to the gym. I know-but-don’t-know that I have a divine appointment there. I think about what preparations you must be making and the thoughts you might be thinking as you stare at a long stretch of miles between you and the finish line. I shake my head in wonder and whisper prayers for help to come to you in the most needed moments.

It is not until I am on the treadmill that I start to cry. For the distance between us, for the joy of knowing that you have tenaciously persevered through many hurdles and today, you will overcome the ultimate test of endurance, the NYC Marathon. You are there running, while I am here running, and I spontaneously purpose to run a tenth of the distance in solidarity with you, in awe of you and the yes you are living as you run for hope.

You are love-in-motion, doing what you can to help prevent the exploitation of children, running like the wind to live the gritty Gospel, the one that says it is not enough to have the faith without the doing. You are running the race as one who is intent on winning the prize…like a mother who would seek to protect and restore the lives of vulnerable and compromised children.

You have done it, and I’m so proud of you.

Well done.

“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.“ Romans 10:15


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January 26, 2015
March 7, 2014
Few Words
May 6, 2014

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