While running the race I stumbled and fell
Went flat on my face, and spitting up dust,
got up on my knees as others ran past.
I’m down and out, and for all I can tell,
the race is over. I’m finished. I’ve lost.
Then another runner reached down and took
my hand. He gave me a smile and a look
that made me feel I was not last, but first.
So I rose– and determined to end the race;
Ran pure and fleet with the wind in my face.
I ran with the view that if things went wrong,
I could rise with grace, and with legs made strong.
Father thanks for your writing…Lent seems to be a time for me so far when the Big D is putting all sorts of obstacles in my way of being a good and holy guy. Car problems, coping with he death of a close relative, more car problems, my shower handle broke last night and I couldn’t ge the water to turn off, a kid I have in class being especially obnoxious today, still more car problems….pray for me when you get a minute…..thanks.
Reminded me of basic training.
Great poem! Good for preparing for Confession.