It’s pretty much all Olympics, all the time at the house of J and H this week.  Even though many of the events are sports we don’t normally follow, we both try to watch as much of the events as we can.  I think for me it’s the stories; while I root for the home team a lot of the time, I love to learn about athletes from all sorts of countries that have made their way to the top back home, and are now trying to show their best on a stage so public it makes me nervous just watching them.

We’ve cheered for Oscar Pistorius, running for South Africa on carbon-steel prostheses against able-bodied runners.  We’ve sent sympathy through the television for the Russian gymnast who fell off the balance beam and hurt for Jordyn Weiber when rules and regulations took precedence over her spectacular performance.  We cheer for good sportsmanship, for the one who came in last but proudly represented his nation as their first competitor ever sent to the Olympics, and the woman running to represent a country where physical education for women is illegal.

I wouldn’t have known who most of these people were before last week, and I’m guessing their names will mostly fade from my mind when the Olympics end, but while they are in large-screen HD in front of my couch, they are vividly present.  That’s really the key, isn’t it?  What is in front of us has our attention.

A few weeks ago, a friend and co-worker went on a mission trip to Haiti.  She had mentioned they’d be working with children and would be taking some supplies along to leave there.  I was going to be at her location just before the trip, so, almost as an afterthought, I ran by Walmart that morning and picked up a few cheap toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste she could tuck into her suitcase.  I was glad to give my small donation, but to be honest, I didn’t give it too much more thought until I opened my mail at work one day and found the most gracious thank you note.  She told me where the supplies had been donated and how they had helped, and she included the photo below so I could remember, when I saw it, to pray for the children of Haiti.

Boy, did I ever pray.  Right there, at my desk, with a chastened heart because I had just complained about something so silly earlier in the day.  I prayed for those children I haven’t even seen but I know God loves, for the workers who go to help them, for everyone in creation who so desperately needs God’s love and human compassion.  The picture is still on my desk, in a little document holder right between my two monitors.  I cannot fail to see it every day, so I know I will not fail to pray.

Some of our personal petitions to God are so deeply engraved on our hearts that we don’t need a reminder, but when the need is for someone we don’t know, or don’t intersect with every day, there is great power in keeping a photo before us, a list in our prayer journal, or a note on our phone… anything that keeps them at the front of our minds and our hearts.  And when you are the one in need of prayer, tell someone who will pray with you, and then cling to Hebrews 12:1-3:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

And one day, what a glorious celebration we’ll all have together as that cloud of witnesses around the throne, praising God that we have spurred one another on to a heavenly finish line and an eternity of His radiant presence!