Pushing Forward - Life Lessons, part 3

If you're just joining in, this is the third post in a series of I'm not sure how many. For part 1, click here, and part 2, here.

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I had a very brief track career that lasted for all of 7th and 8th grade. I ran the mile as my event. Even then I was never the best runner. In fact, I remember only one time in which I didn’t place dead last. One race in particular stands out in my mind. I was running against only a few other girls, but they would have fit the category of “super-athletes.” The gun went off and I was left in their dust before my feet ever started moving. I tried so hard to keep up with them, but they were too fast. I couldn’t finish the race with them. I had to walk. My stomach hurt and I couldn’t breathe. I was embarrassed because there were dozens of students and parents watching me. But I was determined to finish. And I did. I had to walk a good part of that race, but I eventually crossed the finish line. Afterward my coach came up to me. She understood what had happened, that I tried to follow the fast girls and completely failed. She said to me, “You have to run your own race.”

Each morning before I even roll out of bed I am faced with a decision to make. How am I going to run my race today? Some days are easier than others (like Saturdays). Other days I flat out don’t want to go to work. I don’t feel like being cheerful and nice. I just want the day to be over so I can return to bed.

I may as well sit down on the side of the road and wait for the finish line to come to me.

Not going to happen. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve sat and sat, but didn’t get any closer to the end. Thankfully, the finish line never gets farther away. So as I wake up in the morning, I plead to God for His strength for the day. I go about my day and try to remember where my strength and energy are coming from. And while my day may not be any more pleasant, it goes more smoothly. Because I’m not doing it alone anymore. I have Someone running alongside me, cheering me on to the end.

It doesn’t matter if everyone else around me is faster and more successful, or that they finish with greater grandeur and look good doing it. It doesn’t even matter if everyone has already finished long ago and I am the only one left on the course. I have to run my own race, at my own pace, in my own way. So I choose to stand up and run my socks off. I choose to force my body to finish strong. I run to the best of my ability and to the glory of God.

I may not win a medal to wear around my neck. I may not get a trophy to display on my shelf. I may finish so dead last that it’s now raining and everyone has long ago gone home. I may cross the finish line by myself with no one left to cheer me on. But I have run my race.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness...”

I have won. I have received the prize that will last.

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Not finished yet...