168 Seconds.

Yesterday I ran in the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. This is my 7th time of traveling the 5 hours to run either the full marathon (26.2 miles 3 times) or the half (13.1 miles, 4 times). My first year was 2003 and it was the 3rd year of the event. That year there were about 4000 participants. We lined up before daylight on a windy Sunday morning after hearing an inspirational sermon, and music at the "survivor tree" on the grounds of the National Memorial. Not only was this my first time at the event it was my first ever marathon.
It was exciting to be pressed in between the sidewalks with all these people who had a common purpose: Run the race before us and finish, upright, about a block from where we started.
Over the loudspeaker that morning, above the loud rock music, the announcer thanked all the sponsors, and introduced dignitaries and guests. Told us to look for the celebrity runners, including 1972 Olympic marathon gold medalist Frank Shorter (whom I met and got his autograph). All this was going on over the din of 4000 nervous and excited people, anxious to be on their way. Waiting for the starting horn.
As we all talked and speculated about what the day would bring,the tone in the announcer's voice turned serious as he began talking about the morning of April 19 1995, when a truck bomb blasted the Federal Building, killing 168 people including 19 children. I was trying to hear, but the people kept on talking. He closed by announcing there would be 168 seconds of silence to honor those who died that day. I thought to myself, "yeah, right." Just as he finished the statement, I was amazed as the entire crowd , this street filled with 4000 plus people, became completely quiet. The only sound was the morning song of some bird, being picked up by the open mic. I had never experienced anything quite like it. Standing there for over 2 minutes, in silence, honoring people most of us did not know.
Yesterday, April 25, 2010 was the 10th year of the marathon. There were over 23,000 participants according to the TV reports, and when at 6:20, the announcer called for that 168 seconds of silence, I was again amazed and moved as 4 city blocks packed with people became one silent voice, honoring those who died 15 years ago.
When I closed my eyes at the beginning of that 168 seconds, it was dark, when I opened them the glow of the sun was just starting to peek through the clouds. When I looked up,there were in front of me two women hugging. Both had tears on their cheeks. Who were they? I don't know. But I do know that 168 seconds of silence for them was golden.
For me that 168 seconds was the only time I was still for the next 2 hours as I ran the 13.1 miles that brought me back to the finish line, just a block from where I began.
As I think about that silence, I think that everyday, 168 seconds of silence and stillness is probably what I need. A time of stillness, to think about and remember not only what God has done for me, but also those people who are or have been in my life and helped me get to where I am.
Take a moment of silence now, maybe 168 moments, as a suggested time, and remember.
Peace, my friends.