Towards the end of it, I had a ''brain blast'' and suddenly felt an urge for playing Pepsi-Cola (a game commonly played among primary school-ers) as i had not played it for a long time . So i shouted in a merry tone, ''Oi, who wanna play Pepsi-Cola?'' In an instance, it was as though one could see many guys' ears all perked up and eager to beat one another.
Round after round passed by, and it was obvious that one of the most dominant players was Leonard, having eliminated many of my fellow comrades. Suddenly, with a surge of adrenaline, he flew towards my direction and came ever so close to stepping on my foot (that's how you eliminate your opponents). Thanks to a unusually good string of reflexes, i managed to dodge his attacks.
Now, it was my turn, i came up with some weird move but Leonard was good, now we were both in weird positions and i attempted a risky move. I missed him again but the worst part of it was that there was now blood flowing from my knee. It was a very deep cut, and i could see some ''white stuff'' in the wound. Maybe it was cartilage, bone or something lah.
I'm okay with cuts and bruises but NOT ON THE EVE OF COMPETITION! I was going to run the school cross country the next morning. Well, some might say,''So what? It's just school level.'', but i haven't been under formal training for such a long time. I needed everything to be pieced nicely before the race. Anyway, Aunty Shanti and the cell group (Roti Batu) prayed for me. Many advised me to quit the race and some even came up to my face and said,''No more gold medal d.'' with annoying hand gestures. (it's okay, you're forgiven, haha)
But in my heart, i was thinking,''All the more reason to run, for if i win, my God will be greater glorified and more people will see that it is through God's strength and grace that i win and not because of my own strength and stamina, for I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.''
15th August, Saturday morning, race day. I got outta bed and hopped towards the bathroom as my nerve cells were busy carrying pain messages to my brain. I could hardly bend my knee, and once i bent it, it could hardly be straightened. No matter, i said a silent prayer, got my shoe bag and left the house.
Okay, let's fast forward a bit... With the prayers, support and help from many friends, i manged to cross the line with the fastest time. And the miraculous thing was that my knee didn't cause me any extensive discomfort and/or pain whatsoever! With that deep a cut, you gotta admit... it was simply a miracle.
Every scar tells a story, if this is to be one, let it remind me of God's goodness and faithfulness towards me. That He was, is, and forever will be my source of strength in weakness, and hope in clouds of doubt. Thank You, Lord. I don't normally blog about my races but in order for many more to know what You've done for me and what You can do for them, this one's for You. :)
In every victory, let it be said of me,
my source of strength, my source of hope,
Is Christ alone.
*the disturbing picture of the knee wound has been left out for the convenience of our beloved readers.
my source of strength, my source of hope,
Is Christ alone.
*the disturbing picture of the knee wound has been left out for the convenience of our beloved readers.