The race was nearing the end and people were gathering around the finish line, cheering for their runner.
In the midst of thousands of people of all ages, all lined up along the runner’s course, I spotted this one mom.
I was making my way to the finish line, easily strolling because I knew my runner wasn’t going to finish as quickly as the ones coming in.
I spotted this one mom.
Well, I actually heard her first.
I anxiously scanned the crowd of unfamiliar faces trying to see who was screaming and why.
This wasn’t an “Oh I just won the Powerball” scream.
It was a “Someone help me! I can’t find my baby!” scream.
My head spun left to right when soon my eyes locked on the cause of the commotion that only I seemed to be noticing.
This mother, I’d say about 5 feet even, looked on the first impression to be a “sporty mom.”
Tan skin, strong and muscular legs, biceps that could crack a walnut shell.
She was adorable.
And she was running for her life.
I have never seen a grown woman run so fast.
With no regard to those in her path, she ran and screamed right along with her little runner who was in place to cross the finish line first.
With each pump of her arm came a new high pitched “Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh!”
Out of hundreds of runners, hers was coming in first.
Outta my way. Mama’s comin through.
I wasn’t ready for how emotional I was going to be.
I’m not a sports mom after all.
I’ve mentioned that I don’t know the sports lingo, in fact, I’m the one yelling, “Try your best and have fun! That is what is important!”
This was Reagan’s first year running cross country so I had no idea what to expect.
My children have never competed in a sporting event of this level or magnitude.
So when I saw this pint-sized hurricane of a mom barrelling along the course fencing…I lost it.
I started bawling crying and laughing at the same time.
I was overwhelmed with excitement and joy for the accomplishments of this little 10-year-old and the unashamed and unhindered love of this mother.
She. Was. Proud.
I never saw that woman again. Or her son for that matter.
I imagine their celebration went on for a while.
I am positive that I won’t soon forget them though.
When I maintained my composure, just soon enough to cheer my own runner down the straight stretch, I was convicted to my core.
Convicted of the times that God has deserved that much elation and didn’t get it.
Convicted of the situations I forgot about where God has been that zealous mom running alongside me yelling at me to not give up.
Convicted of the races I have been in where I crapped out, lost steam or just plain gave up before I ever even got started.
Convicted of the times that God has impressed on me to be the encourager, to be the zealous mom running alongside my friends or family, but I didn’t obey because I “just didn’t feel like it.”
Convicted of the battles those friends and family members lost because of my disobedience.
Convicted of God’s cheers I ignore because I’m too focused on the whispers of the enemy, the accuser of the brethren.
What keeps you from giving God your all?
What prevents you from just putting every unbridled emotion out on the line for the One who gave it all for you?
I TRULY feel that this is an area where God has done a major overhaul on me.
I have so many missed opportunities and regrets of times I didn’t heed the voice of God.
I refuse to let fear of what others think of me keep me from letting God know my love for Him.
The runner mama sure didn’t care what those thousands of strangers thought of her!
How much more valuable should our cheers be to our loved ones who need encouragement, or our friends who need to be loved on, or strangers who need to be prayed for?
I will be that for you.
Because He’s that for me.