Passing the Baton
"I cannot forget my mother. [S]he is my bridge. When I needed to get across, she steadied herself long enough for me to run across safely." ~Renita Weems
I believe life is like a relay race. Starting with the baton in hand, running at the start is a mother. As she starts her race, she runs with all her might to get the baton to her children. Her steps are numbered, her focus impenetrable, as she races. Across the track stand her children, watching how she performs and cheering her on. Throughout the race they learn how to run their own race, the observe as she overcomes obstacles and reaches for the things that are important. As the time comes to pass the baton, the waiting children feel the anticipation of taking on their leg of the race. Mother's run their races strong, they finish strong and when they hand the baton squarely and steadily into the hands of their children, they can finally rest.
Now, holding the baton, and running the race the child takes off with energy and stamina. The child's steps are numbered and her focus impenetrable as she runs. On the other side of the track wait the next generation, watching and cheering as it is their mother who now holds the baton. It is their mother who is running the race strong and deliberately.
We run a continuous, blessed relay race.
I believe life is like a relay race. Starting with the baton in hand, running at the start is a mother. As she starts her race, she runs with all her might to get the baton to her children. Her steps are numbered, her focus impenetrable, as she races. Across the track stand her children, watching how she performs and cheering her on. Throughout the race they learn how to run their own race, the observe as she overcomes obstacles and reaches for the things that are important. As the time comes to pass the baton, the waiting children feel the anticipation of taking on their leg of the race. Mother's run their races strong, they finish strong and when they hand the baton squarely and steadily into the hands of their children, they can finally rest.
Now, holding the baton, and running the race the child takes off with energy and stamina. The child's steps are numbered and her focus impenetrable as she runs. On the other side of the track wait the next generation, watching and cheering as it is their mother who now holds the baton. It is their mother who is running the race strong and deliberately.
We run a continuous, blessed relay race.
Pam, this is a poignant touch for me to read this today. (First let me say that I am sorry about your mother). ~~ On this day, this very moment, my 17 year old daughter is at a MEPS station, going through the process, ....to join the Army National Guard. Molly is my eldest and I do hold my breath as she, and she alone made this decision to run her "own" race. We have taught her as best we could, and we we still continue to cheer her on. I really love your analogy, as it has touched me today in a way that I am thankful to you, and your dear mother. May God Bless all the mother's that run in God's race for his children. Love ya girl, Deanna
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Deanna,
I'm so glad that this blog could bless you today. You are in my thoughts on such a landmark day as Molly follows in the footsteps of her father. Our country is incredibly lucky to have families such as yours in it! Always, Pam
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