1988 summer Olympics. Seoul, South Korea. Eight men started the race. Only seven finished. British 400-meter runner Derek Redmond had to quit because of an injury to his Achilles tendon. The pain in his heart was greater than the pain in his leg as he watched his seven fellow Olympians cross the finish line. Like countless young athletes, Derek had dreamed of Olympic gold. Unlike most, Derek actually had the talent to win it.

Stubbornly refusing to let a torn Achilles rob him of his lifelong dream, the young runner set his sights on the 1992 Barcelona Games. Four more years of training. Four more years of hard work. Four more years dreaming of the gold.

By 1991, Derek was back to world-class speed, leading his team to an upset victory in the 4 x 400-meter relay in the World Championships.

Another year and his Olympic dream could become reality.

1992 summer Olympics. Barcelona, Spain. Derek Redmond is again lined up with seven others in the 400 meters. Four years before, he started the race but couldn’t finish. This time, he is a heavy favorite not just to finish but to win a medal, possibly a gold.

Derek’s dad and number one fan, Jim Redmond, is among the 100,000 spectators in the stands that day.

The starter fires his gun. Derek has one of the best starts of his career. Approaching the halfway mark, however, he hears a strange “pop.” Disaster strikes again. As he crashes to the track with a torn hamstring, seven men fly past him, racing for his medal.

In a few seconds, the race is over. The cheering has stopped and all eyes are now on Derek Redmond, who has managed to pull himself up from the track and, despite the pain, is slowly hobbling toward the finish line.

Suddenly, a man breaks past the security guards and leaps onto the track. He sprints past the medics who have been trying in vain to get Derek to lie down on their stretcher. As he catches up with the injured Olympian, the injured sprinter melts into his arms.

After a brief conversation, Derek continues his struggle to finish the last fifty meters of the race—now with two strong arms and two healthy legs supporting him. Finally, Derek and the man cross the finish line together, setting the record for the slowest 400-meter time in the history of the Olympics. But that didn’t stop the 100,000 fans from standing to their feet and giving the greatest applause of the whole 1992 Games.

Who was the man and what was that brief conversation all about? The man was Jim Redmond, Derek’s dad. Here’s how the conversation went.

“Look, son, you don’t have to do this.”

Despite the pain, Derek responded: “Yes, I do.”

“Well, if you are going to finish this race, we’ll finish it together.”

With those words, Jim helped his son finish the race.

The Christian life is a race. Many start out like a champion and with dreams of victory, only to suffer injury along the way. They stumble and fall flat on their faces. Many of the fallen and injured are determined to get up and finish. But the pain is too great. Besides, everyone else is so far ahead.

If you’ve fallen in the race of life, if you’ve been injured along the way, if you feel like everyone is way ahead and you’re being left behind, if you are determined to cross that finish line no matter how much it hurts, then I’ve got good news for you.

As soon as you scrape yourself off the ground and “set your face like flint” to the finish line, as soon as you start putting one foot in front of the others, then Someone makes His way through the crowd of spectators and jumps out of the bleachers on to the track.

This Man breaks through the demonic security guards the devil has stationed to make sure you don’t finish. He sprints past the stretcher carriers who tell you if it hurts too much, you can just lie down and quit.

If you will only get up and refuse to quit, He will wrap His big arms around you and say: “Son, if you are determined to finish this race, then let’s finish together.” Then, He makes sure you finish the race.

Acts 20:24 says, However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.

It was Saturday night and James, my eight-year-old, was completing his daily ritual of writing in his journal before bedtime. His brothers were asleep, so I tiptoed into the room and whispered: “Time to turn that light off and go to bed; it’s late.”

“Ok. I’m almost finished.”

“What are you writing about, anyway?”

“THE GAME!” He answered as if there could not possibly be anything else worth writing about on that particular Saturday, and he couldn’t understand why anyone would even ask. Of course! He was writing about THE GAME.  I should have known that.

I asked him to read to me what he had written about THE GAME. Here’s what he wrote:
“October 27, 1996. Today, we had our first baseball game. Our team is Apple Computers. I got a home run. We won the game 13 to zero. The other team was Yellow Pages. I played shortstop.”

He played baseball. His team won. He hit a home run. That’s about all that really matters to an eight-year-old Little Leaguer.

He hit his home run the third time he batted. He was so proud of his big hit that he conveniently forgot about the other two times he batted. It’s amazing how selective memory is developed at such an early age.

Since James decided to forget his first two times to bat, I decided not to remind him that he struck out both times. I told him that I was really proud of him. I kissed him on the forehead, turned off his light, and tiptoed out of the room.

As I lay in bed that night, I thought about how glad I am to serve a God who records our home runs and “forgets” our strikeouts. I’m so thankful He doesn’t constantly remind us of all our dumb decisions, bad attitudes, and past sins.

I’m not at all suggesting we should live in unreality and pretend we never do anything wrong. Spiritually speaking, we can only forget our strikeouts after we repent and receive God’s forgiveness. Our conscience is there to make sure we never forget until we experience real repentance.

Here’s my point: Once we face and confess our sins, our God chooses to forgive and purify us from all unrighteousness (I John 1:9). He chooses to remove our sins as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). He chooses to hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea (Micah 7:19). Because of the blood of Jesus, we don’t have to live in sin, defeat, guilt, and condemnation any longer. In short, God forgives and forgets.

You say, “That sounds too good to be true!” Jeremiah said it like this: For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember his strikeouts no more. It’d be a good idea for us to forget them, too.

I love my sons when they hit home runs and when they strike out. Of course, they are much happier when they hit home runs. Striking out is never much fun. The spiritual parallel is obvious. God loves us when we are living the life of victory and when we are walking in defeat—when we hit homeruns and when we strike out. His love is constant, no matter how poorly we perform. The difference is that it is much more fun for us when we are hitting home runs and living the life of victory!

Remember, we are destined to be more than conquerors, not because we never lose but because He loves us whether we win or lose (Romans 8:37).