Found out some disheartening news today.  Mom, who has done well with a kidney transplanted 12 or more years ago, has learned that the kidney is failing.  My heart is breaking for her.  And I guess this is where the rubber meets the road, so to speak.  All the things that I've written about - they're easy to write, but now I need to put into action what I've often told others to do. 

Mom's been a champion of faith as I've written about before.  But now I see her struggling with this news -afraid, unsure.  I know that she's questioning, 'Why me?  Haven't I been through enough?  What have I done to deserve this?'  It's extremely difficult to watch and wait and wonder about what's going to happen next.   

My heart is breaking - don't even know what to write.  So, I'll share something I've written before and hope that I can put into practice what I preach.

Finishing the Race

Your heart is pounding.
Sweat is pouring down your face.
Your legs feel like stones and
You still have the last stretch to go. 
The roar of  the crowd is like
Distant thunder to you. 

All you can focus on,
Think about,
Is how badly you want to stop.  
The pain is immense.
But stopping now would mean
You didn't finish the race.

What victory would there be in that?
A race is worth nothing
If you don't cross the finish line.
Then all of that pain that you've endured
Would be wasted.

So, you know you must press on to finish.
Crossing the line becomes
Your utimate goal.
With all you have left in you,
You strive to make that goal a reality.

Our Lord calls us to that kind of race today.
'Finish the race,' he urges us on.
Young, old, rich, poor,
Fast, slow, beginner, or veteran.

We all have races to run,
Everyday,
Every single moment of our lives.
We are called to press on
To finish the race we have begun.

But there are moments
When the pain becomes unbearable
And we wonder, how we can go on?

Our legs feel like stones.
Sweat is pouring down our faces,
Dripping into our eyes,
And we still have the last stretch to go.
We can't hear the roar of the crowd,
Because pain dulls our senses.

But if we will strain with our eyes
To look to the Finish Line
We will see the Master there, calling to us
Urging us on.

And if we strain to listen,
We will hear his voice
Shouting encouragement,
'Press on.  Press on.'

And if we only will,
We will find ourselves at last in his arms.
Being gathered together, held up, and spoken to
More tenderly than we could have ever imagined.

And we will find that crossing the Finish Line
was, indeed,
Worth all of the pain that we endured
in this race we call life.