In the Wasteland of Sunrises

run the race...

Image by NEOM, Unsplash

“I have asthma, allergies, dyslexia, ADD, anxiety and depression. But I will tell you that what you have does not define what you can become. Why not you?!”

- Noah Lyles | after winning the Gold for the United States in his 100 meter race in the 2024 Olympics

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In case you missed that… it was big. Noah’s sun rose, through all his challenges.

Another sun that rose was Olympic shocker Cole Hocker in men’s 1,500m. With the gold, he said, “as the other two projected winners were focused on each other and fighting it out, I just let God carry me through to the finish line.”

I thought long and hard about the onslaught of stories regarding the super weird Olympic Games opening in Paris last month, and the heated discussions about men in women’s sports. I got a little caught up in it and was truly torn.

But, you see, I always pull back to what God thinks.

And the best way to combat what is not normal, if not ultimately wrong, is to look to what’s right.

Many of the athletes represented what the Olympics are all about. The men and women in the arena. Where the credit, the fight, the real work belongs.

Several who gave all the glory to God and played fair.

“…who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

- Theodore Roosevelt | April 23rd, 1910

Modern day politicians could take a lesson or two… but I digress.

Fellow believer and U.S.A. teammate, Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone, saying “what I have in Christ is far greater than what I have or don’t have in life,” is why we should watch the Olympics or support anyone who sees an opportunity at another sunrise. Another day to go for the gold. Sydney, just broke her own World Record delivering on the 400m hurdles. Not to mention Gabby Thomas who achieved a Gold, for the U.S., for the first time in 12 years, running the 200m, with the Bronze going to local Claremont High School alumni Brittany Brown! My daughter is a math teacher there and expressed how inspired her students felt.

Then there’s my new favorite truly infectious U.S.A. Olympic couple. Tara Davis-Woodhall, who has battled depression, was ready to give up, and just took the gold for the long jump, who leaped into the arms of her husband, Hunter, a Paralympic medalist born with Fibular Hemimelia, which led to the amputation of his lower legs at 11 months.

The list goes on. Stories of perseverance.

Recently, Alexander wrote a note about the Ukrainian athletes in the Olympics. Why not them? through many wars and adversities, including the Israeli-Palestine War, history has shown the fortitude of athletes, in the middle of war, doing their best to compete.

For every sunrise granted is an opportunity to keep going...

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So why not you?

“Every day is a a new gift.”

I would write this on my one year anniversary here on Substack.

I can see it now almost ten years ago. Climbing up a six foot ladder, alone, no one home, to capture a picture of life. The life of two little hummers, in a nest built by their mother, on top of the base of a light bulb. The click of my camera, the sudden feeling I was too close. This was not the way I observed life. Change of heart, one foot going down, open-back sandals, my ribcage leaning over the top of the ladder, the sudden feeling of swaying. My head hitting an iron table below.

Blackout.

Awake.

Crawling.

Crushed.

The filmstrip of my life turned a corner of childhood, running on the tarmac, away from the immigration plane, toward a family I might never truly know, goodbyes, hellos, smiling faces, strange land, joy of newness, first bicycle gliding over jacaranda flowers, a big fluffy white dog, and tears when he left us, awkward teenage struggle, pneumonia, the hospital, migraines, film sets, dance, the music, surreal grand canyons, my parent’s faces, racing a dune buggy up a sand dune, skiing down a mountain, America the beautiful, the jump-seat of an aircraft flying over the ocean as the sun rose, the mistake that wasn’t, the boy I’d meet as a result, mad love at the altar, pets and more pets, commitment, elation, birth, wounded on the floor of lessons and guilt, marital struggle, sadness, celebration, death, estrangement, grief, depression, never ending physical pain, joy and wonder behind the lens, all the years, the skin torn from my knuckles, ribs jammed, unable to walk, memories of rising, falling again, a hate-filled neighbor, isolated.

9-1-1, no answer…

Help would come though.

And Grace was there at sunrise. No one could love me better than the giver of golden Light. Another day to do something good. Another day to watch a mama bird feed each baby and empty out her nest, just as we were doing with our last child.

He had grace for me when I gave myself none.

He has grace for a world that lies crying on a battlefield without a Guide.

He delivers the morning and points to the start line.

In a time where everything feels like a huge wasteland of death, destruction and nothing but spin…

We are here.

Why?

To forge through the seasons of our life, see what’s ahead, honor the Grace freely given to us, and pass it on to each other.

In every season of living a sunrise is coming.

As kingdoms fall, there exists an ebb and flow that is only explainable through a Sovereign God and a letting go.

An Olympic passing of the torch to Him. Not to those who regard themselves as higher than God.

My hands alone have imperfectly fed, clothed, held, rescued and remembered the beauty of those things. I have imperfectly loved and been loved. And that is enough. I have walked the valley, alone in my sorrow, wearing it’s wasteland like a badge of death, rather than life.

Begging. Hold on to me.

I come from the example of great sunrises collected in the dust of wars past.

No matter the storms… with God, the wasteland awaits a sunrise even when it’s too dark for us to see it.

So why not you? Why not run the race?

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

- Lamentations 3.22-23

Middle image shot on Canon as I observed Mama from a distance (before I fell) and last feeds, before each baby was pushed out to fly,. Standing on crutches and shooting through the kitchen window, aiming up. Each time, separate by a few days, although very painful, God got me off the couch to see the process without waiting. I had left my heavy camera on the counter. Mama had done her job. Nest closed. What a gift as we were letting go and officially emptying our own nest. Sunrise ahead. Life lesson. A new chapter.