I Finished

This weekend, during the RnR 1/2 marathon in San Antonio, I saw several GREAT signs, but the best one, the one that still sticks with me, was on the back of a guy's shirt:

"'Dead Last Finish' is Better Than 'Did Not Finish'"

Although I didn't finish anywhere close to dead least in the sea of 35,000 runners, it still made me smile, and even propelled me across the finish line with a time that I'm not happy with, but I know I'll surely build on from here.

Fourteen years ago, I started running distances longer than 200 meters.

Ten years ago, I ran my first 10K.

Seven years ago, I started this wacky journey to conquer the 1/2 marathon.

Four years ago, weary from the mental beating I had endured during marathon training, I decided to hang up my running shoes for good.

Two years ago, I tentatively dusted off my running shoes and reentered the world of distance running.

Four days ago, was a culmination of the last two years, and a rebirth of my love for the distance race.

I finished mid-pack...I was half-way home to Dallas by the time the course closed...I didn't finish last...but I finished!

Next race: Bandera 25K

Inheritance

I’m a woman.

I’m black.

I’m a black woman.

From the founding of the land of the free and the home of the brave, women could not vote, nor could a black person dream of expressing their opinion by casting their ballot.

In the early 1900s, women in America began to take a stand for their inalienable right to vote on those who would shape the laws governing their lives, liberties and pursuits of happiness. Many were alienated by family and friends, jailed, humiliated.

Around the globe, women have surrendered their lives for generations to come, to be able to stand in a booth and mark a ballot, tap a computer screen, punch out a chad, to stand up and be counted.

The battle for voting rights, was also fought in the community of black America where people of every shade were beaten, hung, killed, spat on, humiliated, marred physically, emotionally and spiritually. However, the cause of wanting to be heard would not be thwarted.

Sam Cooke sang of these times when he sang, "there have been times that I thought I couldn't last for long, but now I think I'm able to carry on, It's been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come."

Knowing just that small bit of information, how can I, as a woman, a black woman, not make the time to go cast my vote today? How can you, as a person who was born in a free country not take advantage of such a precious legacy, an inheritance penned with the blood of thousands of women and men, sealed by the tears of those they left to carry on their struggle, to profit from their loss?

Likewise, from the founding of the universe, man had to rely on priests to take their requests before God. The only people that could enter into God’s holiest place were those who were appointed by God, anyone needing to relay a need to God had to go thru an intermediary.

However, a few thousand years ago, in a gut-wrenching decision that would turn the tides of the universe, God surrendered his Son’s life. A gift (to millions that would come after him) that would alleviate the need for an intermediary, a bequest from the Almighty to you, to me, inscribed in the blood of One whose desire was to leave a legacy, an inheritance for those He would never meet face to face on this side.

Knowing that small bit of information, how can you, God’s creation, the child of Adonai, not take but a moment to enter into the holy of holies and just sit before His throne? How could you not want to take time to enjoy the gift of constant one on one communication with your Maker?

An inheritance written in blood grants me the right for my voice to be heard on a national scale.

An inheritance written in blood grants me the privilege of a private audience with He who tips the eternal scale.

In the Holy of Holies
Behind that heavy veil
Sat the ark of the covenant
Where the Most High dwelt
And only the High Priest
Could enter therein
To offer up a sacrifice
For atonement of sin

But the veil was rent in instant
Revealing that holy place
For on a hill nearby on a rugged cross
Justice met Grace

Now I can go into the Holy of Holies
I can kneel and make my petitions known
I can go into the Holy of Holies
And although I'm just a common man
Because of God's redemption plan
I can boldly approach the throne