Whenever I can, I enjoy going on a run. I love the fresh air, getting away from my laptop, and the feeling I get once I have completed a race – whatever the distance. Being a very amateur runner myself, I find it interesting that the Christian life is likened to a race. The parallels are immense and insightful.

Endurance

I have not run a marathon before. Hopefully, I will get to do it one day. I have, however, completed two half marathons, one of which was last year. What an experience it was, and what a great analogy for Christian living. Both require discipline and perseverance, and both have a finish line.

From personal experience, I know that my first 4-5 km of a run are easy going. My body is still full of energy, music is buzzing and my mood is high. I start to struggle around the 10 km mark. The question that always pops up, whether in training or during an actual race, is: why on earth am I doing this? Parts of my body that I didn’t know existed start to hurt. My feet get sore. My thighs hurt, and every step I take is painful. That is where endurance comes in – to push through the pain and discomfort. To remember the basics: put one foot in front of the other. To bring to mind the goal of the race, to imagine the finish line, and to simply carry on. 

Endurance in Christian living is non-negotiable. We need endurance to engage in spiritual disciplines like reading the Bible and prayer. We need endurance to flee temptation and maintain purity in singleness. We need endurance to put sin to death. Endurance to love one another. Endurance to serve.

Oh, to have the grace to endure.

Not alone

I love lining up to run. I love seeing the young and old, the energetic and the anxious, all getting ready to run. During the race itself, the impact of seeing other runners is enormous. You see their pain, yet they press on. This is encouraging beyond words. Then there are the spectators. They might be on the sidelines, but to hear someone – even a stranger – cheering you on around the 15 km mark gives a certain boost of energy to press on.

Oh, to remember that we are not alone on this Christian journey. To remember that what I struggle with, the pain I experience, the lows, highs, and everything in between – someone is walking that road with me. Above all, to remember that the Lord Himself has promised to be with me and never forsake me. May I take that truth as fuel on this journey.

Oh, the power of knowing we are not alone.

Our daily bread

When I had done 15 km and my body was wondering why I woke up on a Sunday morning to put it through such strenuous activity instead of enjoying a cup of rooibos, the only thing I could do was just take the next step. The signs saying there is 6km left or people shouting the same didn’t matter anymore. My body hurt. I couldn’t see the last 6 km ahead. I wanted it to be over. So I just took the next step.

Lord, give me my daily bread. Tomorrow has enough troubles of its own. I don’t need to see what the next part of this race looks like. I don’t want to. But give me the grace to live today in a way that honours you. Give us our daily bread, Lord.

Oh, to be reminded of our daily bread.

Our fuel

I was so grateful for the gummy bears and bananas that were given to the runners. I stuffed a few gummy bears in my pockets and tried to drink water at every station. Those gummy bears, as small as they are, fueled me at some key parts of the race.

What is your fuel in this Christian life? What is my fuel? Where do I turn when my tank is running low? What do I do when I feel empty?

Oh, to find our fuel in Christ.

The Finish Line

Crossing the finish line last year was one of my biggest highlights – not only of that year, but, dare I say, of my life. The euphoria is beyond words. Getting hugs from friends I ran with and realising I had actually done it and it was worth it. It felt so good, and so addictive, that I was already looking forward to running another half marathon, despite asking why on earth I was running just 30 minutes prior.

Another sight I enjoyed was seeing the other runners, those who finished before me and those after me. And then that moment of finally receiving the medal and being told, Gefeliciteerd, goed gedaan (congratulations, well done)! It is an amazing feeling.

Isn’t that what we look forward to? To finish the race and meet our Lord. I look forward to that day. I look forward to hearing the words, “Well done!” I look forward to scanning the crowds of those who have finished the race before us. I look forward to seeing Dad in that crowd and being embraced by him. I look forward to the day this race will come to an end.

Oh, to finish well.

I want to finish this race well. I pray that I finish well. However, the fact that I am alive today means my race is not yet done. So I pray to be able to run it well and to endure when the road gets hard. To fix my eyes on the goal when there are a million distractions around. To live a life, both publicly and privately, that will not disqualify me from that prize.

Oh, to run well while my body is still youthful. To run well when there are temptations all around. To run well when the world says otherwise. To run well when my youthful lusts and desires are ranging. To run when well in the way I treat others and how I live my life. To run well in my work and community. To have the endurance and discipline to run to the end. Oh, to run this journey well.