“We’re here because our 12-year old daughter had a heart transplant when she was 3 weeks old,” said new friends from Canada.
“I’m here because I had blood cancer, then liver hepatitis from a blood transfusion and subsequently, a liver transplant. I’m in competitive swimming,” said our new Polish friend.
“This is my first triathlon after my 13th operation.”
“I’m here because I donated my kidney to my 80-year old mum. We are both competing.”
I stood in awe, watching the competitors as they walked up the podium to collect their prizes. Many were competitive athletes and IronMen, even.
As we took in the news that Papa came in fourth, a place short of a podium-medal finish, my heart burst with pride knowing how he’d beaten his personal record by several minutes. The three winners were tall lanky IronMen, seasoned in their prime.
I searched Cliff’s face for signs of how he felt. But he turned to me and shared with a smile, “God granted me everything I asked for— I asked Him to give me a chance to race in front of my family, and a chance to race hard. My heart is content. I have everything I wanted.”
My eyes wet with tears. The true meaning of this endeavor, with all its sweat and tears put in, crystallized in an instant.
Back when we had met, I’d always been amazed how loosely Cliff held onto his medals. For his first and only IronMan medal, he gave it away to a friend struggling with depression as a means of encouragement. Today, things have not changed.
I saw the truth – it was never about winning a medal- Cliff already had over two dozens of them.
It was about surrendering our deepest desire to God, watching Him gift it back to us, and lavishing in the goodness and grace of a life well-lived. That was the true journey, the real race worth finishing well.
Congratulations, Cliff. To the next World Transplant Games that God avails to us. 💛🏆