Run to win…

The Christian life is no walk in the park; it is a race, sometimes a sprint, but more often a marathon.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. (1 Corinthians 9:24)

Even though this verse speaks of only one winner, in the Christian life every runner is urged to win the prize. That means this race unlike the normal race, but more like the modern charity run where each runner is sponsored and winning is about finishing (not placing first), and the prize is earning that reward pledged to my cause.

For the past few weeks, my life has been a mass of temptations and spiritual battles. I’ve won some and lost a few. At times, the finish line blurred. Distractions took my mind off what I should do and lured me away from the track, away from my commitment to Christ, even away from other commitments.

Now that my current eight-week module of studies is finished, I can look back and see how it was like being in a race. For me, the challenge was not about getting high marks, but experiencing the enrichment of the journey and putting into practice what I was studying.

The study intensely focused on the identity and work of Jesus in seeking and saving the lost so we become God’s children and Christ’s Body, His ambassadors here on earth. It was incredible, yet these eight weeks have felt like struggling through an obstacle course. The world, the flesh, and the devil threw temptations and distractions at me the entire route. Some of the writing required was enormously difficult and required great concentration and effort. When I pushed that “submit” button for the final exam, I could feel the weight lifting off and the sense of breaking a ribbon at the finish line.

Yet being a Christian involves far more than one course of studies (I have 12 more to go) for this run is about life, not formal theological classes, for all of my days involve learning about God.

That being said, today’s devotional makes a point that I need to hear and remember. The author is John Bunyan, an amazing Christian and writer who spent many years in prison persecuted for his faith, and penned “Pilgrim’sProgress.” He knows about the race and the battle to run it and win.

He says to beware of bypaths, those distractions I’ve already mentioned. He says most travelers go down those paths, yet all who run must take “care you do not beguile yourself with a fancy.” Even though something may “seem ever so pleasant,” there in the middle of the side trails the Gospel is written in the blood of Christ, warning me to shun that way.

Bunyan says runners are easily turned aside to bypaths “daubed over with a few external acts of morality” because we so easily fail to realize our own insufficiency. We are too bold, proud, presumptuous, and self-conceited. Not only that, we hear and respond to the call of others saying such things as, “Do not go too fast and you will have my company with you.” These calls come from sin, this world, worthless company, pleasures, profits, esteem in human society, ease, pomp, pride — and cry out, “Do not leave me behind.”

Bunyan lived 1628-1688, yet what he says is true for all generations. The Christian life, like a race, requires a commitment to press on, to keep our eyes on the goal, to put aside all that hinders, and most of all, to remember Jesus and that none of this will happen aside from His mercy and grace. The Redeemer and Savior was there for Bunyan and others who have finished their race. He also is here for me.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. (Hebrews 12:1–4)

Run away from God?

Today’s devotional verse is the same as yesterday, but the author of the devotional takes it in an entirely different direction. He speaks about those who experience trouble and loss and run away from God. He says he does not understand life, never mind comprehend such action. He asks, “In God’s name, run to what? Having lost everything else, what could make a person decide to lose Him too?”

I suppose this decision would have something to do with a person’s concept of God. If He exists only to make my life comfortable, then difficulties would make me feel as if I am a mere bug that He steps on and squashes, perhaps not even noticing I am here. How could I trust a God like that?

But if I have been walking with Christ and learning about God’s love and faithfulness, I may lose sight of Him for a time, but I will trust Him to see me through when life goes dark. I will know that because God is true and His promises are certain, then I can hope in Him to keep me going.

Those who assume God is like a genie in a bottle will gain nothing but greater darkness by throwing away the bottle when their genie refuses to grant their wishes. In life’s crunches, their “faith” reveals itself as trust in their own judgment of how life should be, not in God’s grace or His plan.

In contrast, faith is not about experiences but believing that God is who He says He is, and relying on Him no matter what happens. We may believe when the sun is shining, but we must believe when it is dark too, for we have nothing else.

These verses also make me think about the importance of actually trusting God when the sun is shining.

If you have raced with men on foot, and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses? And if in a safe land you are so trusting, what will you do in the thicket of the Jordan? (Jeremiah 12:5)

“Racing with men on foot” points to those ordinary days that belong to God as well as the “competitions with horses.” He guides my life in the grocery aisles and in vital decisions, while I’m cleaning my house and while I am facing far greater challenges. If I relegate God’s love and interest to only the difficult times of life, then I will never learn how to take them in stride without losing faith, or without doubting God’s presence and care.

Learning that faith in Christ is practical and fulfills itself, is real and that its most audacious promises are true happens in daily life. (Is that why Jesus taught us to ask for our daily bread?) He promises to provide clothing and daily needs, yet if I think I can handle that myself, what will happen if circumstances prevent me, if I cannot do what I once found simple and easy? Will I think God has abandoned me when my own resources fail? 

Life is a learning curve. In the beginning of my Christian experience, I trusted God for the silliest little things, later taking them for granted and even thinking He gave me a brain, etc. so I can take care of myself. Then troubles came and He brought me full circle, back to trusting Him for everything, because in His kingdom, nothing is little or silly. He knows and cares about each sparrow that falls and the number of hairs on my head.

Much of our Christian education happens through reading the promises of God while in the experiences of life. Faith grabs hold, realizing that none of what God’s Word says is speculation. Why were the prophets so positive that God would take care of His people? How did the psalmist know God would heal the broken?

Isn’t it because it happened to them? When all else failed, God stayed. Daniel knew this in the lion’s den. His friends knew it in the fiery furnace. Even as Christ cried out asking the Father why He had forsaken Him, read the rest of Psalm 22 that He was beginning to quote and see that He had not. 

We feel alone but are never alone. Jesus said, “I will not leave you as orphans” and “I will never leave you or forsake you.” To turn away and say that I will leave Him does not and cannot change what He promises. No matter how foolish I might be, the Lord Jesus Christ is present. If I should resist or push away, that does not change Him. Both the Bible and experience prove that in both sunshine and shadows — He remains. 

Pressing on

One common recurring dream was trying to catch the school bus. But I was running in mud and my feet would not work. I kept dropping my books and the bus seemed to always be moving farther and farther into the distance.

I haven’t dreamed this slow-motion frustration for a long time, but remembered it this morning. I’m thinking about the spiritual race that I’m in, a race toward the goals that God has set for me. One of them is being free from what hinders me. As Hebrews 12:1-2 says, “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.”

The only way to be rid of those sins that ensnare me is to confess each one as God brings them to my attention. On this matter, I’ve noticed that if I natter on about anything after confessing it, if I say to myself things like, “Boy, am I ever stupid” or bemoan any angst about what I did, then my confession is somehow incomplete and the snare is still grabbing at me.

How do I know that? Because when confession is complete, the snare is gone. Case in point. Someone I knew years ago offended me on the day we met. She assumed I was just like her, didn’t consider that we had different personalities and interests, and talked to me as if my thoughts and motives were the same as hers. From that first meeting, the same thing happened nearly every time we were together. I felt like a nonperson, and even after years of never seeing her, I became annoyed whenever I thought about her.

This week, God asked me to deal with my attitude. Even though I hadn’t thought about her for years, He uncovered this snare and wanted me to get rid it. This wasn’t about what she did; she is oblivious and didn’t do it on purpose. He was more concerned about my responses, but it took me several hours to understand exactly what the snare was and what I was supposed to confess.

Back then, I was vulnerable about my own identity. As the Holy Spirit gave me light on what was going on, I realized the root of it was that I wasn’t relying on Him for my understanding of who I am. Instead, I let someone else trip me up by their assessment, a false assessment. As I confessed to Him my lack of trust, and all sinful thoughts and responses, all that anger and offense and tension vanished. No more snare. It was gone.

Snares are any weights that keep Christians from moving forward. Confession that gets to the root of them removes the snares. I am amazed. Now when I think about that person and the many things she said and did that hurt me, none of my pain, anger or annoyance come back. I suspect that things other people do and say will not affect me in the same way either.

I feel like a bird let out of a cage, yet God, bless Him, reminds me this morning that I cannot think that I have now arrived! Paul wrote,

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14, NIV)

Spiritual maturity is a goal that is always out there. Like a runner in a race, I know where the finish line is, but I also know that I’m not there yet. The Christian life is not a sprint but a marathon. I’ve leaped over many hurdles, stumbled many times, and in both, God is there to encourage and lift me higher, but I’m not at the finish line, yet.

Instead, He tells me to keep going. Don’t spend time or energy looking back at those places where I dropped in my tracks, or the places where He took me over a tall or wide jump. Instead, keep my eyes on the goal and press on.

The prize is not a reward for running the race. I am not earning or deserving it. Rather, it is the prize that God gives to all whom His Son has “taken hold of” and put into this marathon. We race toward being mature, toward being like Him. The prize is not heaven, which is more like the winner’s circle at the Kentucky Derby where the winner is recognized. Instead, the prize is perfection, spiritual maturity, being like Jesus.

My great reward is being complete in Him. He wants me to run toward that goal without past failures clutching at my feet or the pride of past successes keeping my eyes off the finish line. Part of that prize also is being able to run the race without that terrible sense that He is moving the goal farther and farther from me, or that I am running in mud and continually dropping my resources. This race is not a bad dream but a glorious reality, and I press on.