Scripture Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:1-27, Matthew 15:11, Romans 15:17-19
I was a gangly eighth grader with the athleticism of an opossum. As one does in middle school, I signed up for the track team strictly because my friends had done the same. There was not a cell in my hormonal body that wanted to run the four-lap race assigned to me. I lumbered to the starting line hauling a bundle of nerves and a posture of defeat.
Then… Bang! The starting pistol fired, and we began circling the track. As I crested the final turn of my third lap, I noticed a few frontrunners were crossing the finish line a full lap ahead of me. Hungry for glory, I sealed my fate in the Track Hall of Shame. I squared my shoulders and crossed the finish line in style, confident no one would notice I still had a lap
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