This morning I watched two good friends—and thousands of other women—cross the finish line of the San Francisco marathon. I suppose it’s a cliche to comment on the emotion of that moment, but I’ll write it anyway. Women of every age, race, size, and fitness level sprinted, jogged, walked and limped across that line. Although my friends and I traveled there to see Heather and Melissa complete the race, we still cheered and clapped for these other women, most of whom we didn’t know. Coaches ran the last few yards alongside their team members, shouting, “You did great! You’re here! You made it!” A DJ honored each woman by announcing her name as she finished the race, and SF firemen in tuxes handed each lady a silver necklace from Tiffany’s. It was an inspiring experience; it made me (sort of) want to do a marathon myself, and even my buddy Dave said “that was my 11″ on a 1 to 10 scale for the weekend.

God’s ways being immeasurably greater than mine, I’m sure our transition to eternity will be much, much better than this morning’s event. (It will certainly be warmer.) But I’ll be happy if it’s as simple, and sincere, as today’s celebration. I can imagine my loved ones, and many people I don’t even know, lined up alongside the big finish to a 26.2 life full of struggles, victories, and pain. They cheer and clap and celebrate with me as I reach the rest at the end. Angels welcome me in with gifts and smiles. The Announcer proclaims my name in victory. And my Coach runs in with me, shouting “You did great! You’re here! You made it!”