This is the last post in my Lenten series about Jennifer Dukes Lee’s book “Love Idol,” which released on March 25, 2014. Have you read it yet? I’ve already given away my copy!
In Jennifer’s epilogue, she mentions running a 5k with her daughter, Lydia. I have run a 5k with my daughter, but I have never run with my son. Even when he was 6 years old, I didn’t stand a chance of keeping up with him when he’s pounding the pavement. He’s a cross-country dude.
Several years ago when we were at Antioch Community Church in Waco, they did this series called “Running Man,” starring a guy named Jason Florian. The sermon series, which was accompanied by short videos, showed poor Jason, a fellow determined to run the race set before him but who mostly failed. I still remember the one where he ran holding a bunch of suitcases to illustrate Hebrews 12:1.
But the best video was the last one. We see Jason wake up, and the “Chariots of Fire” music is playing, and he just starts running. And he’s looking great — confident, even. Slowly, we start to realize that we’re not watching a pre-taped video; it’s live. Jason is running past the pawn shop across the street from the church. And, oh, look! He’s in the parking lot! He’s opening the door! Oh my gosh, he’s at the back of the auditorium! He’s running down the aisle! And he steps it up and runs right straight into the arms of the pastor and practically knocks him down.
Was there even a sermon after that? Because I sure don’t remember one.
“And when that glorious finish line comes into view, we will run like mad, and the wind will whip through our hair, and we’ll forget how bad it hurt sometimes,” Jennifer wrote.
Some days, Jennifer, it it hurts so bad. The finish line has not yet come into view. And I’m not much of a runner—nothing like my son, who thinks a 9-mile jog around the city is a perfect way to spend a Sunday morning.
This Sunday is Easter. We’ll be at St. Mary’s on Saturday night for the Easter Vigil because a friend is coming into the church, just as I did two years ago. It’s a late night. The service doesn’t even start until 8:30 p.m., and it will go for almost three hours. There’s no way I’d be up for running 9 miles the next morning. Maybe a little 5k, if I’m not completely exhausted.
“You can never outrun Jesus. And Jesus’ love will never, ever run out,” Jennifer writes.
That’s the promise of Easter Sunday, whether I run or whether I sleep in. I am loved. We all are.