The word "triumph" fits when a person or character overcomes their greatest obstacle. Triumph only works as it applies to a great victory or achievement. It comes at the end of a long journey and it doesn't come easily. Triumph doesn't fit anything that applies to instant gratification. It's a word that hints at a great spiritual overcoming.
The triumphant moment is worthy of horns blaring or fireworks falling on the field, as they did at the conclusion of The Natural. The word once referred to how a victorious general would be greeted back home in Ancient Rome. Crowds cheering, music playing, and people celebrating. These are the signs of a triumph.
One of my favorite moments of triumph happened in the dugout of the 2016 state championship at Valor Christian. We were up 9-5 going into the bottom of the seventh, but those last three outs were far from easy. Our opponent, Pueblo West, was a gritty, very competitive group. They had beaten us in the double elimination tournament the weekend before. With one out and a runner on first, a potential double play ball bounced oddly over our shortstop's head. Then with two outs, the hitter hit a ball to our pitcher's backhand. While the ball hit his glove and bounced close enough for an easy play at first base, that particular pitcher had experienced the "yips" throwing to first base throughout the spring. He bounced the ball to our first baseman, who made a great play to keep the ball in front of him (video would show that he caught the ball for an out, but whatever), the runner was called safe and a run scored. The score was now 9-6 with their most powerful hitter coming to the plate.
It was here that the sounds of triumph began. First, I took a mound visit to check on the guys. Let's just say that the first baseman made a joke, the team laughed, and I felt good about where they were mentally. But my tension was still high. That tightness in my belly kept growing as I went down the dugout steps. As I turned to watch the action, a song came to my ear - Chris Tomlin's "Good, Good Father." It wasn't actually playing, but I heard a song and I started quietly singing along. Soon after the chorus began, the opposing hitter blasted a line drive that landed in our right fielder's glove. The celebration was on and the triumph was complete.
While at the end of the day this is just winning a baseball game, it's a symbol of being victorious after a long journey. It's a reminder that keeps me believing that I can triumph again. I hope our Bot9 readers have those same reminders as they walk with the Lord through their journeys. They are valuable for more than just the victory.