Finally, a VP has been chosen by one of the presidential hopefuls. Soon, we’ll go through the agony of another sleepless night with our cell phones in hand waiting on a text message from the other candidate. The senator-once-removed from Illinois has hitched his political wagon to a star from lesser known reaches of the galaxy. I read that the combination of names, “Obama-Biden,” was factored into the choice. Concise bumper stickers. One glance at mine and you’ll know my vice-presidential chances are about as high as Michael Vick becoming director of the SPCA.

You might say Mr. Obama is “biden” his time. He’s counting on Biden’s minutes in the Denver hoop-de-la limelight as an environmentally friendly burst toward his hour in the spotlight. I still haven’t recovered from watching the Olympics, so I don’t expect to be spending much virtual time in Denver, even though I’ll miss the javelin catching competition.

Interesting that a running mate seems to be as important as the run itself. That’s true in our faith journey as well. The run is a futility exercise until you know with whom you are running. I chose the One from the lesser known reaches of the galaxy. Jesus is the Christ, the one who not only runs with you, but waits for you at the finish line. To me, that’s a winning combination—no matter the position on the track.