Beginnings are exciting. Even kids who hate school can sense the excitement of back-to-school time. We used to enjoy meeting our new teachers and seeing who would be in our class. The beginning of things can be fun. When the gun fires and you take off in a race! Or when you show up for your first day at the new job! Or what about young love? Those early days of dating and getting to know each other are filled with an excitement you may never experience quite the same way again.
New is exciting. When I was a little boy running races, those early strides were effortless, absolutely EFFORTLESS. I was flying, a bird on the wind soaring with ease—for about a hundred yards. And then effort kicked in, and maybe a touch of asthma, and suddenly it no longer felt like flying. Imagine being a jockey in a horse race: you’re riding a thousand-pound beast around the track over 40 miles an hour–RAIN OR SHINE. The horse RICH STRIKE won the Kentucky Derby–against 80-to-1 odds–by coming from the back of the pack on a rainy, muddy track. In the winner’s circle, both horse and rider were caked in brown mud. They were the muddiest pair out there, because they came from behind. And that, my friends, is how you WIN.
Life is like that. It is an endurance race. As they say, life is a marathon, not a sprint. No one cares how amazing your wedding is if you end up divorced. It’s not getting married that matters, but STAYING MARRIED. It’s not starting college that matters, but finishing college and earning a degree. It’s not receiving a job offer that matters, but being able to stay there long enough to make a difference and retire one day, proud of your years of service.
Paul said it well. In the final chapter of his final letter, he seems to have known he was near the end. Are these not the greatest of all “famous last words”?
“I am already being poured out like a drink offering. The time of my departure is near. I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith” 2 Timothy 4:6-7.
I quite deliberately chose to echo Paul’s words when I began my father’s obituary by writing, “Ernie Wales finished the race on a sweltering day…”[1]. He certainly did. Daddy was an excellent finisher. He simply put his head down and kept going. In everything he did in life, he was a “grinder.” He never, ever quit. He had no quit in him. And here’s the secret: he never quit because he never thought about it. You don’t consider giving up. A good marriage never hears the word “divorce.” The thought should not enter your mind. If you want to win a race, you never take your eyes off the finish line.
Serving the Lord well means serving Him faithfully—in the beginning, when things are exciting—and later, when things are boring, difficult, or even scary. Paul says it is a fight. It’s a good fight, but make no mistake: it is a fight. FIGHT the laziness that tells you to skip Bible reading just this once. FIGHT the shyness that would rather not see people. FIGHT the urge to skip prayers or skip church or whatever else. Fight … and finish the race.
ΑΩ
[1] https://www.legacy.com/us/obituaries/legacyremembers/charles-wales-obituary?id=52598696#obituary
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