For consider him who endured such hostility from sinners against himself, so that you won’t grow weary and give up. —Hebrews 12:3
Life is a distance race. It is not a sprint.
My friend Bill Butterworth tells the story of his humiliating athletic experience in junior high. In track and field, he was a field-events man specializing in the shot put and the discus.
One spring, competing in a track meet, Bill had—unsuccessfully—competed in his two field events. He hadn’t done well. As he was sitting dejected in the stands, his friends approached him with some great news. “Bill, this is your lucky day,” they announced. “It looks like you’re going to get another chance!”
One of the runners entered in the four-hundred-meter race had pulled a muscle in the two hundred, and Bill had been pegged as his replacement. So Bill was whisked off to the starting line to run the event. So quickly, in fact, did this all take place that Bill had no chance to talk over the strategy of the race with anyone. Someone did, however, lend him a pair of track shoes with a narrow heel and needle-like spikes. Slipping them on, Bill was already feeling fast. With the crack of the starter pistol, Bill was off and running.
After the first turn, Mr. Field Events was feeling pretty strong. He picked up his pace. By the back straightaway, he was in the lead. This is unbelievable! This hefty adolescent was thinking to himself. All these years, slaving away over at the shot put and discus circle, when the truth is, I’m a runner!
But by the time he got to the third turn, something unexpected happened. For most competitors, the four hundred is a sprint. For Bill, it should have been a distance event. In Bill’s words, someone snuck up behind him and injected pure acid into his thigh. If you’ve run competitively, you know this feeling. Completely spent, Bill collapsed in a writhing heap in the shadow of the visitors’ goal post. The four hundred turned quickly into a steeplechase as the other runners were forced to leap over his crumpled form.
The writer to the Hebrews gives us a perfect snapshot of life’s race as it is meant to be run: “Let us lay aside every hindrance and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us” (v. 1).
Did you catch the great challenges of successfully running this race? There are two. The first challenge involves things we control: habits—hindrances—that keep us out of shape. There is also sin—the willful disobedience against God’s laws that critically obstructs our running.
Then there is “the race that lies before us.” We are not on an oval track in this race. It’s not predictable. We cannot see the twists and turns of our course. We make our plans, but someone else outlines where we do most of our running, so surprises are certain. You and I know about these.
So, what is a runner to do? The directions are clearly described here: get in shape and follow Jesus. Running this race will be far less painful if you’re not stopping every few yards, desperately sucking in more air because you’re encumbered by foolish habits and debilitating sin. And running this race will be far less confusing if you determine to faithfully read God’s Word, spend time in meaningful conversation with Him, confess your sin, and resolve to obey Him. If you do these things, the rigors of the stress and the confusion of this uncharted course will be far less overwhelming and far more successful.
Life is a distance race. It is not a sprint. Get in shape and trust Jesus. Ask Bill. You can do this.