Kay DeMoss has discovered three things that keep her dashing rather than lollygagging through the rest of her days and uses the lives of three Olympic athletes as illustrations.
KAY DEMOSS
Michigan Conference Communications
You see them every day — those folks who put on their jogging clothes to go out and power their way up the sidewalk. God bless them. They are likely more physically fit than I am. Still, I remember the many times that my husband, Lynn, and I would be driving down the street. He would spot a jogger and say, “Look at that face! They’re miserable! Doesn’t make me want to go home and put on my running shoes!”
Many of us have not established a daily, even weekly, exercise routine. Are we too busy? Do we lack discipline? Or, as Lynn noticed, does that kind of exertion not look like any fun whatsoever? We’re probably no different today than humans were two thousand years ago. Maybe that’s why Paul wrote this in one of his letters:
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary in your souls or lose heart” (Hebrews 12:1-3, NRSV).
Run with perseverance the race set before us! Paul takes up the role of cheerleader in his letter to the Hebrews because he is aware that life is full of distractions that slow us down and obstacles that get us off track. Let’s face it: couch potatoes weren’t invented in the twenty-first century. Paul knew many a spiritual couch potato in the first century, I am sure. They needed encouragement, and we do, too.
What’s being a couch potato all about anyway? Laziness? No, I think deeper things are at work, both in body and spirit. This painting illustrates some of those deeper things going on when it’s a struggle to just get off the sofa.
When Lynn and I went to Congo in 1998, we visited the studio of a famous African painter named Arthur Kahilu. This painting was on his easel. It took Lynn’s eye, and he told the artist we would purchase the painting once it was finished. We were going to the seminary 100 miles up the road to teach for four months, so there was plenty of time to complete the canvas before we were to fly back to the United States.
Later, Kahilu talked about the image before wrapping it for our flight home. “What is she feeling?” he asked. “Is she angry that the pot got broken? We see it in pieces at her feet. Did she break the pot, or did someone else break it? Is she crying because the whole of her life, like the pot, seems shattered some days? We see she has taken off one shoe. Is she preparing to go to bed? If so, maybe she is just tired?”
That describes some of our days, doesn’t it? The painter leaves the woman’s situation for us, the viewer, to decide. We can identify. Our stuff breaks, too — not just our pots but our relationships, our health, our financial security, our understanding of what’s real and not real (turn on the nightly news for a reminder of that kind of brokenness). Our stuff breaks, and when it breaks — by our actions or somebody else’s actions — we tend to shut down. Getting up and running is the last thing on our minds on days like that when life lies broken around our feet. I must admit, since Lynn’s death, I look at that painting on the wall and see myself. Sitting and hanging my head.
Thirty years ago, a woman named Linda Ellis wrote what she calls “an uncomplicated poem for a complicated world.” The poem is called “The Dash,” and you probably have heard it before. It begins:
I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning to the end.
He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke the following date with tears.
Then he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.
An apostle and a poet, living centuries apart, both tell us to be serious and intentional in the running of life’s race. If they are right, and I believe they are, God indeed created us to dash, not dawdle. God created us to dash, not despair. God created us to dash, not detour into self-pity or hopelessness.
“Stop lollygagging!” was one of my grandmother’s favorite phrases. Paul would have liked my grandmother. I’ve discovered three things that keep me dashing rather than lollygagging through the rest of my days. Because the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, or the 2024 Summer Games, begins in Paris today, I’ll use the lives of three Olympic athletes as illustrations.
Dash with Kindness
This moment at the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro will not be remembered because of an outstanding medal performance. Two runners, one from America and the other from New Zealand, were heroes of a different kind. Abbey D’Agostino and Nikki Hamblin were racing side by side in the women’s 5,000-meter heats. Hamblin tripped and fell to the ground four-and-a-half laps from the finish line. This caused D’Agostino to stumble, as well. Instead of sprinting off after she got up from the track, D’Agostino went over and gave Hamblin a hand.
The pair both headed back down the track until D’Agostino fell again. Then, Hamblin returned the favor — giving up any chance she had at advancing to the final — to help D’Agostino get back on her feet. After finishing, they embraced in a hug.
Although they didn’t win gold in Rio, these women were given the International Fair Play Committee Award because of their sportsmanship. Running the race of life is not all about competition. It’s about showing kindness and concern for others as they go down the track together. As you dash to the finish line, always remain kind.
Dash with Wisdom
She’s a gymnast, not a runner, but Simone Biles best illustrates my second component for exceptional dashing. After winning a silver and a bronze medal at the 2020 Olympics in Tokyo, Biles withdrew from the team to focus on her mental health. Afterward, she said this on social media: “For anyone saying I quit, my mind and body are simply not in sync as you can see here.” She was enduring a phenomenon that gymnasts call “the twisties.” It affects a person’s spatial awareness. Biles remarked, “I don’t think people realize how dangerous it is out there on a hard/competition surface. Nor do I have to explain why I put my health first. Physical health is mental health.” A fellow gymnast told the media, “What she just did out here shows a lot of strength. Withdrawing was one of the hardest things for her to do.”
Biles took a two-year break from competition, returning to the mat for the World Championships in Belgium last year. Her performance in 2023 made her the most decorated gymnast in world history. A double-pike vault, the hardest ever made by a female gymnast, is now called the Biles II in her honor.
I should also mention that in 2022, Simone Biles became the youngest to receive a Presidential Medal of Freedom. President Joe Biden conferred the award on the 25-year-old, not only for her athletic achievements but also for her advocacy for mental health and victims of sexual abuse.
Running the race of life is not about winning at all costs. It requires an awareness of oneself and one’s surroundings, which we call wisdom. Wisdom gives us direction and keeps us focused on the values that are the most important. Once you push off the starting blocks and dash to the finish line, always remain wise.
Dash with Gratitude
Billy Mills grew up on a reservation in South Dakota. It was hard living for Native Americans, especially for an orphan like Billy. At age 12, he claimed his gift for running. He remembers, “I read my first Olympic book. I loved that it said Olympians were chosen by the gods. That’s when I began to dream of becoming a champion.” Mills went on to receive an athletic scholarship at the University of Kansas, where he excelled at cross-country. He joined the U.S. Marines, where he met a great coach and qualified for the 1964 games.
There in Tokyo, Billy, an unknown, won the 10,000-meter race in a stunning last-minute sprint to the finish line. It was one of the most spectacular upsets in Olympic track history. To this day, 60 years later, Billy Mills is the only American ever to win the gold for the 10,000-meter race.
Thankful for a dream come true, Mills wanted to make dreams come true for others. He became co-founder and the national spokesperson of Running Strong for American Indian Youth, an organization that strives to build the capacity of communities, grassroots Indian organizations, families, and individuals to leverage their strengths and solve problems.
For that life work, President Barack Obama awarded Billy Mills the Presidential Citizens Medal in 2012. The second-highest civilian award in the United States, this medal recognizes those who have performed exemplary deeds or services for their fellow citizens.
When we win the prize, we have a choice. We can bask in the glory of the trophy or celebrate by giving thanks and helping others achieve success. Billy Mills chose gratitude. Want to make a good dash? Always remain grateful.
Kindness, wisdom, and gratitude are the foundation of my dash. But there’s more to dashing than what we choose as our core actions. Our Congolese friend, Arthur Kahilu, made one final, critical observation about the painting that now hangs on our living room wall.
He left the woman’s feelings in question — angry, despairing, or just tired? But Kahilu told Lynn and me that he was sure of one thing. “Look,” he said. “What else do you see? You see the light shining at the top of the canvas. That light is God. It doesn’t matter what she is feeling,” Kahilu asserted, “because God is in the room with her. She will be all right.”
Consider again Paul’s message to the Hebrews, this time in Eugene Peterson’s words from The Message:
“Do you see what this means — all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running — and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed — that exhilarating finish in and with God — he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over his story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility Jesus plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!”
Turn your eyes upon Jesus and dash! Be like Abbey D’Agostino and Nikki Hamblin — dash with kindness. Be like Simone Biles — dash with wisdom. Be like Billy Mills — dash with gratitude. And as you dash, always remember that God is dashing with you every step of the way.
Last Updated on July 30, 2024