The Walk

This morning on the way to church we saw a long line of folks walking. It was the Race for the Cure walkers, and they were on their final day of the three-day trek.

And these people? Were partying. They were stepping high. They were raising their hands in the air. They were whooping it up.

At the park across the street from the church there were port-a-potties set up, water (I would think), and whatever else they might grab on one of the check-points. As we drove by, I could hardly keep the tears from pouring down my face. 

(I'm a crier.)

The stream of dedicated women and men (and I saw both wearing pink tutus...that is devotion) took my breath away. I actually posted on Facebook about it. This is what I said:

Crossed paths with the 60 mile walkers this morning on the final leg of their three day trek. I was immediately reduced to a puddle of awe-inspired tears. Pink wigs, tutus, flamingos...cancer, you are a thief, but you are not the victor. Praying for an amazing finale for these women and men walking for those they love.

I took a couple of pictures with my phone (so please excuse how cruddy the technical quality is), and in spite of being not so great in some ways, I think they are awesome in this way: you can see that these folks are movers and shakers. They are full of hope.

I repeat: Cancer, you are not the victor.

Comments

[Missy]

Nope. It never will be the victor. We know Who is, though. ;) Inspirational, these folks are.