I know now what it takes to be an Olympic marathoner. When I watch one of these Kenyans running and winning one of our American marathons I'm right with them...running right along with them. I understand the pain. I've trained with them in long daily runs in the snow, wind, rain and summer heat. I've shared their agony. I'm no longer a fan...I'm a fellow runner!
My actual running days are over because of my knees and the one marathon I ran I came in second... to the last... and had EMTs running up to me to see if I needed assistance. No, I'm not one with these Kenyans on the streets, but I'm one with them in their mind. I know what they had to do to get where they are. It takes perseverance and perseverance takes dedication. You have to press on. That means that come pain or discouragement or criticisms or ridicule that you run right through it.
The Apostle Paul did not grasp for some motivational analogy when he said that the runner competes to win. He wasn't short on inspiration that day and just filled in a few lines with good advice. He probably saw athletes train and collapse. He may have even heard the tale that after the Athenians had defeated the Persians on the Marathon battlefield that a runner ran the 26 miles to Athens. He ran until his heart gave out...proclaimed victory and then collapsed and died.
I had heard about this King named Jesus.....as a story told around a campfire. I would listen to the stories with wide eyes....then I would yawn and crawl into my sleeping bag and go to sleep. What changed? It was good...God was happy with me....this thing called eternal life was mine....I was born again. What changed?
It was those words in that book that did it. I spent too much time in it. I read one too many Old Testament prophets....one too many biographies of those gone on before....and those pastors......where did they come from all of a sudden? It was no longer just a campfire story. I saw the glory of this king...not with my eyes but in the words of that book. I had the riot act read to me. This really was a war and I saw bodies literally all around me. It was time to grow up. I couldn't hear the words to stop anymore for the sound of the trumpet blasts.
And His voice...it rang so sweet and yet powerful in my ears. It was a beautiful sound. It drowned out the cacophony of this Vanity Fair that we live in. And those around me...reading that same book...how wonderful to have company....not only company but encouragement and example.
It seems as if every hour of the day someone says to slow down....or someone calls out to stop and learn this new game.....or something points out my unworthiness to be in this race. I feel the pain in my side as I run. My feet are blistered over at times. My body wants to stop and rest...even to quit....but I know that if I do that then I won't hear that voice anymore.
I must look weary at times...maybe even awkward....or convulsed. Surely they think that I'll collapse...but one foot continues to fall after the other and that voice continues to beckon. I can see others running next to me.....they encourage and grab my arms if I stumble. I try to encourage them when they are in distress. Someone hands me cool water. Someone else tells me to watch this rock. I tell others to avoid that hole. I can see the finish line and shout....."life...life...eternal life!" Paul finished his race and I'll finish mine....I may come in last but I'll finish and win a crown....for the King has told me this in that book!
My actual running days are over because of my knees and the one marathon I ran I came in second... to the last... and had EMTs running up to me to see if I needed assistance. No, I'm not one with these Kenyans on the streets, but I'm one with them in their mind. I know what they had to do to get where they are. It takes perseverance and perseverance takes dedication. You have to press on. That means that come pain or discouragement or criticisms or ridicule that you run right through it.
The Apostle Paul did not grasp for some motivational analogy when he said that the runner competes to win. He wasn't short on inspiration that day and just filled in a few lines with good advice. He probably saw athletes train and collapse. He may have even heard the tale that after the Athenians had defeated the Persians on the Marathon battlefield that a runner ran the 26 miles to Athens. He ran until his heart gave out...proclaimed victory and then collapsed and died.
I had heard about this King named Jesus.....as a story told around a campfire. I would listen to the stories with wide eyes....then I would yawn and crawl into my sleeping bag and go to sleep. What changed? It was good...God was happy with me....this thing called eternal life was mine....I was born again. What changed?
It was those words in that book that did it. I spent too much time in it. I read one too many Old Testament prophets....one too many biographies of those gone on before....and those pastors......where did they come from all of a sudden? It was no longer just a campfire story. I saw the glory of this king...not with my eyes but in the words of that book. I had the riot act read to me. This really was a war and I saw bodies literally all around me. It was time to grow up. I couldn't hear the words to stop anymore for the sound of the trumpet blasts.
And His voice...it rang so sweet and yet powerful in my ears. It was a beautiful sound. It drowned out the cacophony of this Vanity Fair that we live in. And those around me...reading that same book...how wonderful to have company....not only company but encouragement and example.
It seems as if every hour of the day someone says to slow down....or someone calls out to stop and learn this new game.....or something points out my unworthiness to be in this race. I feel the pain in my side as I run. My feet are blistered over at times. My body wants to stop and rest...even to quit....but I know that if I do that then I won't hear that voice anymore.
I must look weary at times...maybe even awkward....or convulsed. Surely they think that I'll collapse...but one foot continues to fall after the other and that voice continues to beckon. I can see others running next to me.....they encourage and grab my arms if I stumble. I try to encourage them when they are in distress. Someone hands me cool water. Someone else tells me to watch this rock. I tell others to avoid that hole. I can see the finish line and shout....."life...life...eternal life!" Paul finished his race and I'll finish mine....I may come in last but I'll finish and win a crown....for the King has told me this in that book!
