I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:14
Last week we were involved in Vacation Bible School. The students learned about the apostle Paul and his desire to keep pressing toward the finish line.
Yesterday Charlie and I participated in a 10K race. I signed us up months ago because I need something to help keep me motivated to get out and exercise. There are just too many days when the excuses easily defeat me. Knowing a race is coming up helps me.
We arrived in downtown Freeport at about 7:00 a.m. Hundreds of people were already milling around the starting area. Some were stretching. Others were running in place, but most simply stood around talking. They talked about the weather, other races they’d run, and their hopes for a personal best. Those who had never run the course asked questions about what it was like. For everyone, though, they had only one thing on their minds – finishing the 6.2 miles that loomed ahead.
This was our third time running this race. I hoped I would beat my last time. I doubted it would be the best of the three because it was certainly the most uncomfortable weather we had encountered for this event. Minutes before the start, Charlie moved ahead in the lineup to a more appropriate place for him, and soon we were off.
The course takes a gentle downhill for the first three miles. At one point it bumps up with a fairly steep hill and then continues downward. I started out slowly, remembering that the last time I ran this I started too fast and was lightheaded by the end. I felt like the slowest runner in the crowd of about 1500 runners. It seemed everyone passed me.
Slowly the pack thinned out and I found myself running alongside two other women, both of whom were running this race for the first time. I answered their questions about the course and we talked about the hot weather. When the first steep hill began, I had to walk, and they surged ahead. In my mind I kept reciting the verse, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” I asked myself, Am I doing the best I can? Do I really need to walk right now? When the answer was “yes” I had to content myself with the knowledge that I would get to the end, but I would not beat either of my previous race times.
Mile after mile slowly crept by. Mile four seemed unending. More runners passed. One woman who cruised by looked like she was about six months pregnant. A man came up behind me saying, “Clap, Virginia.” I turned to look. He was pushing his infant daughter in a stroller. I clapped for them instead. Another father, obviously a veteran to races by the “Beach to Beacon” race shirt he wore, held back his desire to compete to encouraged his teenage daughter on her first 10K. She was beginning to feel that this race would never end.
The sun was more intense and the shady spots fewer. I once again slowed to a walk. By now other people around me were walking. A spectator shouted from the sidelines, “Love the shoes!” That was enough to get me running again and I passed as many of the walkers as I could.
Eventually the finish line crept into view and I began to mentally sing a song of praise with a faster beat. “O let your soul now be filled with gladness. Your heart redeemed, rejoice indeed!” I took off running – not full speed but faster than before. Charlie, who had already finished, was watching for me and joined my running for a bit. About 400 feet from the line a woman started to pass me, so I stepped it up and raced her for the finish. She beat me, but not by much.
The race was over. It was the slowest time I’d had. A volunteer worker handed me a bottle of water. After a couple gulps, we left the crowds and headed for the car.
I didn’t do well today, I thought. But there will be other races if I want to try again.
Through all of this I kept thinking. There’s another finish line I have my eye on. The difference there is that I only get one shot at that one. There will be no doing it over if I’m not satisfied with the results. It’s the one we talked about last week in VBS: “the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”. It’s the race of life.
I want to get to heaven and hear the Father say, “Welcome home, child. Well done.” I want to know on that day that I have run the race of life to the best of my ability. I don’t want to hear him tell me of all the times I let excuses keep me from doing the right thing. I want to know that I kept going even when times were tough. I want to keep pressing on until I reach that finish line.
Last week we were involved in Vacation Bible School. The students learned about the apostle Paul and his desire to keep pressing toward the finish line.
Yesterday Charlie and I participated in a 10K race. I signed us up months ago because I need something to help keep me motivated to get out and exercise. There are just too many days when the excuses easily defeat me. Knowing a race is coming up helps me.
We arrived in downtown Freeport at about 7:00 a.m. Hundreds of people were already milling around the starting area. Some were stretching. Others were running in place, but most simply stood around talking. They talked about the weather, other races they’d run, and their hopes for a personal best. Those who had never run the course asked questions about what it was like. For everyone, though, they had only one thing on their minds – finishing the 6.2 miles that loomed ahead.
This was our third time running this race. I hoped I would beat my last time. I doubted it would be the best of the three because it was certainly the most uncomfortable weather we had encountered for this event. Minutes before the start, Charlie moved ahead in the lineup to a more appropriate place for him, and soon we were off.
The course takes a gentle downhill for the first three miles. At one point it bumps up with a fairly steep hill and then continues downward. I started out slowly, remembering that the last time I ran this I started too fast and was lightheaded by the end. I felt like the slowest runner in the crowd of about 1500 runners. It seemed everyone passed me.
Slowly the pack thinned out and I found myself running alongside two other women, both of whom were running this race for the first time. I answered their questions about the course and we talked about the hot weather. When the first steep hill began, I had to walk, and they surged ahead. In my mind I kept reciting the verse, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” I asked myself, Am I doing the best I can? Do I really need to walk right now? When the answer was “yes” I had to content myself with the knowledge that I would get to the end, but I would not beat either of my previous race times.
Mile after mile slowly crept by. Mile four seemed unending. More runners passed. One woman who cruised by looked like she was about six months pregnant. A man came up behind me saying, “Clap, Virginia.” I turned to look. He was pushing his infant daughter in a stroller. I clapped for them instead. Another father, obviously a veteran to races by the “Beach to Beacon” race shirt he wore, held back his desire to compete to encouraged his teenage daughter on her first 10K. She was beginning to feel that this race would never end.
The sun was more intense and the shady spots fewer. I once again slowed to a walk. By now other people around me were walking. A spectator shouted from the sidelines, “Love the shoes!” That was enough to get me running again and I passed as many of the walkers as I could.
Eventually the finish line crept into view and I began to mentally sing a song of praise with a faster beat. “O let your soul now be filled with gladness. Your heart redeemed, rejoice indeed!” I took off running – not full speed but faster than before. Charlie, who had already finished, was watching for me and joined my running for a bit. About 400 feet from the line a woman started to pass me, so I stepped it up and raced her for the finish. She beat me, but not by much.
The race was over. It was the slowest time I’d had. A volunteer worker handed me a bottle of water. After a couple gulps, we left the crowds and headed for the car.
I didn’t do well today, I thought. But there will be other races if I want to try again.
Through all of this I kept thinking. There’s another finish line I have my eye on. The difference there is that I only get one shot at that one. There will be no doing it over if I’m not satisfied with the results. It’s the one we talked about last week in VBS: “the high calling of God in Christ Jesus”. It’s the race of life.
I want to get to heaven and hear the Father say, “Welcome home, child. Well done.” I want to know on that day that I have run the race of life to the best of my ability. I don’t want to hear him tell me of all the times I let excuses keep me from doing the right thing. I want to know that I kept going even when times were tough. I want to keep pressing on until I reach that finish line.
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