Attempting to make sense of the madness; Remembering Pat Summerall
The Boston Marathon Redefined
Attempting to make sense of the madness
More than just the runners
“hit the wall” in Boston last Monday.
An entire city is struggling to breathe.
Their shoulders are stooped
Their legs are as heavy as lead.
The finish line is nowhere in sight.
This painful marathon of terror is far from over.
It will call for persistence and endurance
as well as determination and focus.
It will require time.
Going the distance will take years (not hours).
Yes, the Boston Marathon
has taken on a whole new meaning
as it is set against the backdrop of another race.
Sadly, the human race is marred by hate and fear
not to mention unthinkable acts
(some still manage to imagine)
that we have come to take in stride.
Ours is a race where random acts of violence
(and those maliciously premeditated)
maim, deform and kill.
It’s a race that tests our ability
to survive, heal and forgive.
It’s a race in which we are called to
put one foot in front of the other
one day at a time
without knowledge of what’s ahead
as we lift the fallen
and carry the broken
and maintain our momentum
in a Godward direction.
Remembering Pat Summerall
A tribute to this sportscaster’s true value
I can still hear that rich resonate voice…
“And tell them Pat Summerall sent you!”
The pitchman for a hardware chain
whose life was going down the drain
would prove a hammered sportscaster
could beat a bottle’s curse.
True value’s seen in what takes place
within a person gripped by grace.
Celebrity, success and wealth
are not Pat’s legacy.
His worth was based in so much more
than skill in giving us the score.
He found his true identity
when he was born-again.
How very appropriate it was
that the “voice of The Masters”
would hear his Master’s voice
the very week the green jacket
was awarded in Augusta.
His final round at last complete,
he humbly bows at Jesus’ feet
who clothed Pat in his righteousness
and cleansed him from his sin.
My Rhymes and Reasons 