Transition

August 20, 2019

In a relay, the runner with the baton begins handing it off while still running, and the one receiving the baton starts running before actually grasping it. There are those yards where the two of them are in the lane together, doing their best to make a solid transferral while keeping the forward momentum. Two mistakes they must avoid: stopping the momentum and dropping the baton. The transfer is the critical moment of the race.

Once more, I find myself in a time of transition. I am still running as hard as these old legs will carry me, but I’m also reaching forward, baton in hand as my successor picks up the pace and reaches back. Transition is often where the race is won or lost. I have a good, strong young runner in front of me. One last stretch, and I’ll start backing off so he can run. Circumstances will necessitate me staying in the loop for the foreseeable future, but it’s getting time for me to see what new race lies before me. I’m not yet ready to join the onlookers in the grandstands, but also don’t yet know what my next event will be. Whatever it is, I am grateful to be still in the game with plenty of determination. 

Certainly, there are times I think it would be nice to slow down a bit, but I think that will take care of itself when the time comes. I like to think of Colonel Sanders, whose real success didn’t come till he was in his sixties. Or Moses, who was eighty when he led Israel out of Egypt. Or Grandma Moses, who didn’t achieve acclaim for her painting till she was 78. Who knows? Maybe I’ll finally have time to practice my bassoon and compile my musings into a book. Tonight I am thankful for this new transition and the opportunities it affords both to me and to the Dunkirk congregation. God has, as he always does, good things in store.