I am preparing for my mother's visit...which means...clean the house. So today, I hauled four boxes of books out to my office to open up space in the some closets at home. After work, I started digging through the boxes to find out what I had been hanging on to for so many years. What I discovered were several old letters, trophies, books and pictures from my early years as a pastor.
I’ve shared before, that I’m a packrat. I keep things of sentimental value that hold very little meaning to others but everything to me. So as I’m digging through the stuff sorting things out, I came across my first trophy that I won for winning a race back in High School. It was from June of 1975. That was the year between my junior and senior year of High School, and I remember vividly winning that race.
The race was two-miles on the track at a summer meet sponsored by the local running club. I had a horrible track season that junior year. I had shown promise, but because of nerves and inexperience, I had finished dead last in all but one race. Now at this low-key summer club track meet, I went out dead last. I had nothing to prove. But about lap three, I moved to the front. I was relaxed and felt no pressure. I remember on lap 7 several of my friends shouting for me and I felt strong. That last lap went by so quickly, that even now I can’t really remember it, but I do remember the last few feet when I realized that I had won the race.
Now nearly 35 years later, I find the old trophy. As I think back on all the past years of my life, I can’t help to realize that I’ve been very blessed by God. I’ve lived a dream life with a wonderful wife and family. I’ve seen the world and I’ve meet so many wonderful people. And…I still feel the way I felt those last few feet in the race…I been blessed.