I don't know how I missed this in 1992. I wasn't much into sports. Maybe that was it. Maybe you saw it, but regardless, watch it now:
Watch it again.
I've only recently discovered it, and now I watch it about once every couple of days. Our childrens' minister used it as a tool to illlustrate a point at the halftime devotional during soccer games last Saturday. Now I have it bookmarked on both computers.
That video is remarkable in so many ways beside the obvious one that Derek Redmond GOT UP. That his father broke past the security guy (You better git outta my way, that's my boy out there!) I made up words for that part. Just seemed like that's what he was saying. That's what I'd be saying. That his Dad put his arm around his son and helped him to the finish line. That he got him back in lane 5 and walked with him, patting him every step of the way. That his Daddy's right hand did not stop patting, comforting, holding. Pat pat pat. That even though Derek Redmond's biceps qualified for big guns in my book, probably twice the size of his Dad's, Dad had the power of comfort and strength and his hand moved from his son's waist to his shoulder to his arm back to his waist as they walked, patting, squeezing, hugging, giving his son comfort. I doubt he even knew he was doing it.
So they finished the race. Walked across the finish line. Heartbreaking, the whole video clip, but the part that made me sob and snort almost out loud (which would've embarrassed handsome husband except he was too busy trying to look all macho and as though he wasn't teary himself) was when they finished the race and Derek Redmond put his face in his hands and his head in the crook of his Daddy's neck. UNbearable.
The silly thing is, that was 1992. It's sort of but not like crying over a commercial I s'pose. Still cry every time I watch it. But Derek Redmond (I didn't know it thennnnn, the first time I watched) has since parlayed that horrible experience into a great career complete with books, speaking engagements, the works! Good for him. When life gives you. . . . . . . . y'know.
The sermon yesterday at church was wrapped up in the same scripture (which is Hebrews 12 by the way in case anyone's interested). I have to stop here and say that my lil ol brain is so simple that things like this impress the snot out of it. The church coordinates the messages in all areas of the church for the week so that when you get home as a family, here's what happens. You're able to talk about the same message in a googlezillion different ways. Simple? Yes. Do all churches do it? Why yes, of course well prolly maybe but I only go to mine and I'm still impressed. 'K? It doesn't take much.
So anyhootietoo, the preacher calls all the chirren to the front for the kids' message and he (he's so brave) he says sunthin like Has anyone fallen down ever? I mean besides when your big brother or sister helps you fall down? Cuzzz, y'know they do that. And the message went on and on and I listened and cute kids were saying funny stuff like yeah and YEAH and I fell right on my BUTT and I got a bruise you wanna SEE it? and the preacher laaaaughs and the congregations laaaaaughs and all the meanwhile I was still back on that cuzzzzzz, y'know big brothers help you fall down.
Sometimes childrens' sermons aren't just for the children, but the message there is for - well - whoever needs to hear it. And yesterday that was me. Lighten up on your oldest boy, gal. It's normal for him to do that to the lil one. Developmental even. Let it happen, they'll work it out.
Powerful. Suddenly that was me being steered back into Lane 5 and a limp I didn't even know I had was easing.
And I was impressed that my church coordinated messages.