The Last Lap

Tuesday Thrills

First, it was the story Keion Henderson told in his sermon, The Pressure of Being Gifted, about how he took a long ride down a road in search of a store to make an essential purchase, and when he had driven for a long while, but to no avail, he decided to turn back and drive home, but his decision to make a call through to his wife saved him from the biggest mistake, as the shop was only five minutes away. Telling this story, he made clear how our breakthrough is mostly closer than we think; at the point of giving up, so we must press on. Recalling Keion Henderson’s situation, my strides increased, and I exhaled at an encouraging tempo, gathering more momentum for the extra metres ahead.

My intermittent breaths filled my ear drums, as the beads of sweat that had formed on my face turned into river paths, and I could feel my entire body perspire as my jersey got firmly attached to my skin– my sweat had served as a binding glue between my skin and the jersey. As at that point, I felt the never-ending perspiration had made it clear that it was time to mentally give up like most of the track runners had. However, I was left with a lap more to complete the race; and I was about a few metres away from the first person, I was getting nauseous, but the cheers from the crowd, “Dennis! Dennis!” were evident that I was close to success. There, I felt I had already gone three laps– 1200metres already, and if I could go 3, then, a last one shouldn’t be an issue, but I needed the last push, and there it came– a vivid picture of a recent scene.

It was a lovely scene with my mother. She had to meet the deadline for a beautiful dress which she was sewing, however, her old, but treasured sewing machine wouldn’t allow her to complete her next masterpiece– the beautiful dress. I was to deliver it on her behalf, so I waited for it and witnessed how the customer kept calling her. Of course, it was frustrating, however, she couldn’t stop singing praises to Our Maker; God– the One who has the power to make all things possible, and at any point, when the sewing machine gave its worst, she gave her best praise, as her praises went higher. I watched her in awe, but the situation wasn’t pleasant, as I witnessed her complete the final task over and over again, with the ringtone from her phone coming in repeatedly. I told her it was okay and that I could give it to someone on my way, to complete it, since her old machine was messing up, but she shook her head, and softly said, “Dennis, God will not bring me this far and not finish it gloriously unto His Name,” and I smiled.

Immediately, that lovely scene of my mother’s endless praise in the midst of her frustration as well as her powerful words filled my mind, I sang my way through to the first position, and won The World Track Race 2021, with praises to My King.

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