Somewhere in "Nikki-World," I like to think I relate.
There's that former high school track star in me that would like to believe that with just a little more effort,
that could have been me.
A girl can dream, right?
But seriously, each time I watch the women's 100 or 200-meter dash---
or better yet, the 400-meter dash or 4 X 400-meter relay---
I grow rather nostalgic.
My own stories of glory---
or more accurately, the fall from it---
come pouring out.
It was my first track meet ever.
Excitement was high,
nerves were scattered every which direction,
and an eager little crowd of family members and supporters had come to cheer me on.
I was somewhat rattled when,
upon lining up for the 100-meter dash,
I discovered starting blocks in each lane.
What?
We'd never run out of starting blocks in track practice!
How did this work?
What was the feel?
I had no clue what I was doing.
I attempted to look confident
and hold my shaking body steady.
As I crouched into position in eager anticipation of the gun going off,
my one concern was how awkward I must look.
Shoving those fears aside,
I tensed in readiness.
*BAM!*
As the gun went off,
my body sprung into action.
It was not, however,
the action that I (or my "fans") had anticipated.
As I shot out of the blocks,
my body unexpectedly lost all sense of balance
and sprawled awkwardly across the track.
There wasn't even time to think about
how much I longed for the ground to swallow me up and eat me whole
(that would come later).
The only thing on my mind was the goal;
that finish line in front of me.
I scraped up my body and my pride off the track.
And I re-entered the race.
I began to sprint with everything in me.
And somehow, even with my less-than-graceful fall,
I very nearly won the race.
While the story has ranked up there among my most embarrassing moments over the years---
and while I got some good-natured teasing from family---
the story has served to remind me---often---of Biblical truth.
In life, it's so easy to get sidetracked.
We hear opposing viewpoints coming at us from all directions.
We grow tired and weary and discouraged.
We stumble, and yes, fall sometimes.
Sometimes we rely on past achievements or glory days.
We're satisfied with yesterday.
In Philippians 3, Paul writes:
Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Only let us hold true to what we have attained.
Paul repeatedly describes the Christian life as a race.
With singleness of mind and Christ-centered resolve,
we're admonished to set our eyes and our focus on Christ.
No matter what happens or where we've been---
no matter if we've awkwardly laid
sprawled across the track---
we're to strain toward knowing and following hard after Him.
He alone is our joy, our glory, and our crown.
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