In 7 days I will run in Toronto`s Goodlife
Marathon. A runner once said 'the shelf life of a Marathon runner is only
slightly longer than a fruit fly.' Realizing that this area of my life can
end at any time, I have used a few different races this year to prepare myself
for the Toronto Marathon and included my family as often as I can. A few
Sundays ago was the 30 km “Around the Bay” run around Hamilton`s Harbour.
The night before the race:
I am restless because even though I feel fine
physically, this winter was challenging for me on a few levels. Doubts
assail me and I wonder if I am up to the challenge. Before going to bed I
look at a picture on my Computer monitor that has become a constant
reminder of why I have choosen to run. I than pray that I will only
run for God`s glory. Feeling better, I go to bed and have a somewhat
peaceful sleep.
I awake at 6.30 a.m. with an upset stomach,
a tension headache in my neck, and a sinus headache above my eyes.
Chuckling to myself, I wonder which type of pain relief I need; fortunately I
choose Ibuprofen and both of my headaches cease. My elder daughter is not
feeling well, so she decides to stay at home. The younger one, while not
feeling great, decides to come at the last possible minute. After my parents
arrive at our house, my wife, my other daughter and I drive to Hamilton
without any excitement.
The race:
Walking around outside the starting line, I
think of a T-shirt a I remember seeing a missionary wear around my Church,
which said 'Make war on the floor'. I guess it was a strong
statement of this lady`s personal belief in the power of prayer. I
think to myself that this is what my runs are about: in a strange way I am
making war when I run, although in my mind I see many reasons that
should disqualify me for such a task. Running a race is a very
individual event; people cheering for you can help, but for the most part on
the course, you are by yourself against the difficulty of the course, the
elements, and a lot of times against your own body and mind. THE
ONE THING I KNOW! - is that when I run a race for Ratanak and the girls
at the New Song Center, I am never alone.
The start is uneventful and I hope to run a
'smart' race today. I have actually taken the time to look at the
race map and note that the last 10 km have some huge hills, so I try to hold
off a bit to save some energy for the finish. I am looking for my family
at the starting line. I see them before they see me and I yell out 'Izzy'
(my daughter`s nick name). A rare thing happens then: my father snaps a
quick photo and there actually is a picture of me smiling.
At the 7km mark a sign captures my eye. It says
'Learn to love the pain.' Not quite, but as I think of my experience in
running long distances, I see where I have learned to tolerate the pain,
and sometimes even embrace the pain as I sense what is being
accomplished.
The Picture
Shortly after these thoughts, the picture I have
thought about many times this winter comes to mind. On the Ratanak
website under Projects -- Child Exploitation Projects -- New Song is “The
Picture.” A picture tells a thousand words - well, this picture tells of
two lives. These two tiny girls have their heads bowed. They
are on a bed. The younger one is leaning on the older one, possibly for
comfort or safety, yet safety is a world away. Compassion will not come
to these girls. They are so small, so frail, so delicate, so beautiful,
so innocent, so shattered, so shamefully exploited. Such evil has
overwhelmed and consumed their young lives.
What do I, a man, feel when I look at this
picture? I feel shock: I have heard many stories of abuse such girls as
these face, yet every time I read or hear a new story I still find it hard to
believe. I feel shame: men who may have much in common with me have
deeply wounded these girls’ flesh and spirits, and I wonder - not for
the first time - if this world would not be better off without men if this is
what we are capable of. I feel anger: I confess that I imagine having a
group of my friends, all strong, good men, much like David`s 'mighty men'
from the Bible, searching out and punishing the men who have harmed these girls. I
am convicted, and wonder what else I can possibly do to help girls such as
these. I am overwhelmed if I think of so many other little girls around
the world with heads bowed in shame, enduring unspeakable acts of cruelty on
their young bodies.
I am reminded of the words of a song (that I
liked more than 20 years ago) by the group 54-40:
I Go Blind
Every time I look at you I go blind
Every time I look at you I go blind
Every time I look at you I go blind
Little child did you know that there`s a light
And it’s gonna shine right through your
eyes
What do you think that life is like
Every time I look at you I go blind
I go blind, I go blind
Every time I look at you I go blind
It has a catchy beat and at the time I thought
it was about a man singing about how looking at the one he loves made him go
blind. I was shocked when I saw the music video for this song, as it
showed tanks rolling through countryside’s, armies marching through foreign
countries, and young children crying at the unfairness life had brought
them. I later discovered that this group is very involved in being
advocates for children in the less developed countries.
Mud on our feet:
Brian McConaghy, the founder of Ratanak, wrote
these words under The Picture.
I am overwhelmed by the daily hell (a term I do
not use lightly) experienced by these children and have no idea how they can
survive as long as they do. Yet, I am stubborn in my belief that here,
there can be hope. I remain confident that the penetrating light of
Christ can punch holes even in this darkness. This is not a time to be
passive-- it is a time to roll up our sleeves and climb down into the muck at
the bottom of the barrel--just as Christ would do.
Other images
At this point of the race I see a brilliant
white light enter the girls’ room. I see a figure in white bending over to pick
up and gently cradle one of these girls and taking her to a place that is safe
far from this room. This image stays with me for quite a while and even
though after the 16 km mark a new ache starts in my body, this picture
satisfies me that the pain is worth it, that somehow in a way I will never
understand, my act of running is making a difference.
Not to be outdone, another presence makes itself
known to me. At the 28 mark there is a cemetery. I see a sign
on the sidewalk with the words 'I see dead runners'. Although not finding
this hilarious, I can see the humour. Next is a sign warning us to 'avoid
looking at the Reaper,' then a man and a woman actually dressed as
Grim Reapers with their scythes and shouting out warnings to the runners
not to look at them and also warning of upcoming death to the runners.
I was furious and with clenched fists actually ran towards the man and called
him an idiot. At the time, I was thinking of fellow runners who were
struggling and knowing how hard it is sometimes to finish a race. Upon
reflection I see where my reaction was much deeper. Death came about
because of Adam’s and Eve`s sin. Death is a consequence of sin and should
not have been part of earth. Obviously people dressed as the Grim Reaper
are not on the side that I fight for. I think what really set me off
is the recognition that just as unnatural death is for us, so is the life
forced upon these young girls. As with Adam and Eve, sin has entered into
the lives of these girls and taken away what should be theirs – childhood and
innocence – and instead, exposing them to the evil that desires, and then
destroys, their young bodies.
But Death and Grim Reaper, your days are
numbered. Earlier in the race at the 20 km mark right before the
hills, a man (who would be considered a 'small person') sits by the side of the
road with his music blaring - the old Queen song 'We are the Champions.'
The part 'we will we will rock you' blares at me as I approach him. I am
overcome with emotion and high-five him. I hear a chorus of young
children signing at the top of their lungs 'He will He will crush you.'
At first I am thinking of the pedophiles and abusers of these children but then
realize that this goes much deeper: it is about the day when Jesus crushes the
head of Satan with his heel.
Genesis 3:15
he will crush your head,
and you will strike his heel.
As I pull into Copps Coliseum and run across the
finish line, I think perhaps on May 6 as I run my next marathon in
Toronto, I will see the rescue of another little girl much like the one in the
picture.
Larry
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