The Race That Wasn't Over

In the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, British sprinter Derek Redmond lined up for the 400-meter semifinal as one of the favorites. He had trained for years, overcome multiple surgeries, and finally made it to the biggest stage in athletics. Then, halfway around the bend, his hamstring snapped. He crumpled to the track in agony while the other runners crossed the finish line without him.

What happened next became one of the most replayed moments in Olympic history. Redmond pulled himself up. Weeping, he began hopping toward the finish line on one leg. Officials moved toward him to escort him off the track. But before they could reach him, a large man pushed through security, wrapped his arm around Derek's waist, and helped him forward. It was Jim Redmond — his father. Together, they crossed the finish line while 65,000 people rose to their feet.

Derek Redmond didn't win a medal that day. But he finished.

Hope doesn't mean the race goes the way we planned. Hope means that when our strength gives out — when the thing we trained for falls apart in our hands — we are not alone on the track. The writer of Hebrews tells us to run with endurance the race set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith.

Sometimes hope isn't a burst of speed. It's a Father's arm around your waist, carrying you across the line you couldn't reach alone.