“On your mark . . . Get set . . . Go!” My young son bolted forward, his little legs pumping up and down, compelled only by his innate sense of competitiveness.
But Daddy was gaining on him.
“It’s not a race,” my son called out, “Unless I win!”
Daddy laughed so hard that he lost.
Years later, that same son runs for his high school cross country team.
He knows now that yes, indeed, it is a race, whether or not he wins.
Running the race
Before the race, the teams stretch and warm up together, running in groups color-coded by their school uniforms.
The starting shot rings out and the flood of runners pours forward, my son in among the sea of legs. Each runner pushes himself to run longer than he ever has before.
Along the sidelines family members and friends cheer on the runners, letting them know in whatever way they can that they are supporting them throughout the race.
I cannot help but be reminded of the saints in Heaven who cheer us on.
“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” (Hebrews 12:1).
When the runner reaches the finish line, what relief floods his whole being! At last the race is finished, the hard work is done, the soul can rest and be refreshed.
The race is the quintessential metaphor of the journey of life itself, of the struggle toward holiness in the heart of every soul trying to follow our Lord to Heaven.
Or at least Purgatory.
Examining our drive
When each soul examines his or her heart, what is it that drives him toward this goal at the end of life’s race?
Fear? Pride? Love? Humility?
It can’t be fear or pride, which are never from God and always point toward human fallenness and earthly attachments.
In the end the soul’s inner drive to reach its goal must be propelled by a combination of pure love of Our Lord and complete humility before Him.
In complete humility, not only does the soul recognize it cannot be or do anything without Him, but it stands before God with the knowledge of its utter brokenness unveiled in its heart.
Then the soul surrenders it all to Him with the utmost love it can muster in its limited human capacity.
That is what we can give Our Lord, the deepest love and humility that is humanly possible — something we can strive for this Lent in our little sacrifices and daily struggles along the way.
“Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize?” says St. Paul. “Run in such a way that you may win it” (1 Corinthians 9:24).
Tiny speck of a soul
As St. Paul says, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).
At the end of life’s race, I must admit that I long to hear the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant!”
But my hope is, with a lifetime of practicing giving Our Lord my deepest love and humility, my soul will become smaller and smaller until it is just a tiny speck, so small that it could possibly slip through to Purgatory unnoticed, the ultimate test of true humility.
It is with this utter humility — this childlike smallness and absolute dependency on Our Lord, honed by a lifetime of running — my soul hopes to reach its goal at the end of this race.
Julianne Nornberg, mother of four children, is a teacher’s aide at St. John School in Waunakee.