Unlimiting God

THE PROBLEM IS NEVER WITH GOD For the past several years, our family has spent the last weekend in August at my brother-in-law Jim's home in Taber, Alberta, Canada. Taber is famous for its bumper crop of succulent corn. Every year the small town hosts Cornfest to celebrate the harvest. The festivities include a carnival, outdoor concerts, a craft fair, and fireworks, plus 5k and 10k runs. Five years ago my daughter Carrie decided she wanted to join the rest of the family on the run. Carrie is a marvelous ice skater, but she'd never participated in a formal footrace before. I decided the fatherly thing to do was to let her run with me. In my younger days, my keen competitive instincts would have steered me clear of any impediment that might hinder my chances at a medal. But after undergoing decades of God's teaching me life's true priorities, having gained much wisdom in my middle age, and having put on fifty pounds since my university days, I decided to forgo any chance of finishing near the top. I offered to run with my little daughter. Carrie, knowing her dad's competitive nature, demanded assurance that I wouldn't abandon her in the heat of the race. I promised her I was running only for enjoyment and it would be great fun to accompany herregardless of where we placed. In fact, I said, anytime she wanted to stop running and start walking to catch her breath, I'd happily comply. The starting gun fired. My wife and two sons were among the "keeners" at the front of the pack, and they quickly disappeared from sight around the first bend. As my daughter and I loped along at an easy pace on that beautiful morning, I joked with her and encouraged her. After only two blocks, Carrie wanted to slow to a walk. It seemed a little early for our first rest break, but I told her that was fine by me. Dozens of young people whizzed past us as we leisurely walked along enjoying the morning air. After a few minutes I asked Carrie if she was ready to try running again. She was. But after only a few more blocks, she asked to walk again. No problem. Young adults were streaming by. Then middle-aged people began passing us. Some older women were overtaking us at a brisk walk. I exhorted my weary daughter to dig a little deeper so we could push forward. We ran, but soon she was complaining that her side hurt. I reluctantly agreed to walk again. In this pattern, our "race" continued. Then it happened. I heard them coming. I was surprised anyone was still behind us, but sure enough, a middle-aged woman pushing her elderly motherin a wheelchairserenely glided past, leaving us to eat their dust. That was too much. "I will NOT lose to THEM!" I wheezed. "I've got my limits!" We staggered off at a trot. I could just make out the finish line on the horizon. My legs were aching. My breath was coming in short, painful gasps. But we were slowly gaining on the wheelchair. Then Carrie, too, noticed the crowds cheering and waving at the finish line in the distance. Suddenly she underwent a metamorphosis. The hesitant little girl I'd been tenderly coaxing throughout the race immediately found her second wind. She accelerated rapidly. The lights had come on. She was possessed. Carrie torpedoed past the wheelchair, her eye on the prize. I tried to keep up, but there were only fumes left in my tank. I made a heroic last effort, barely edging out the octogenarian and her daughter before crossing the tape. Carrie waited for me at the finish line with a water bottle and a handful of fruit. She wasn't even winded. Later that day, we were met with a huge surprise. At the awards ceremony, Carrie received a beautiful first-place medal for her age category. (They hanBlackaby, Richard is the author of 'Unlimiting God', published 2008 under ISBN 9781590529416 and ISBN 1590529413.