I wrote this piece this afternoon, then came in to post it, and saw last week’s post.
Same subject, but with a different Scripture and a different slant: young man writing about an old man finishing well. Even had the same title.
OK. Just change the title and continue from there.
Several years ago, I took part in a cancer relay march. Folks cheered as the youngest survivor marched proudly across the line with her family around her. Big accomplishment—but my eyes were on an elderly man far down the track, pushing his walker ahead one slow step at a time, not one drop of quittin’ in him, until he finally made it.
For several years now I haven’t been living my life very well. Wasted too much time, money, energy on the wrong things. Playing computer games, building Webkinz towns, etc.
To write a story well, I have to go so deep inside the story world that it hurts like pulling a deep-rooted tooth to be jerked out of it. Enough jerking, and I got scared to even try to go back into the story and risk that pain again.
Webkinz was something I could do, a little world I could control, a place without mind-numbing clutter, without platforms and marketing, a painless hiding place.
Except for the pain of disappointing God.
It’s almost August. Autumn’s coming—and I’m entering the autumn of my life. There ahead is the finish line. Can’t tell you how far—the air’s too hazy—but I can make out the tape stretched across the way. Still time for correcting my course.
But how do I do that?
Don’t give up.
Throw off all that hinders me.
Learn to use my tools.
Keep my eyes on the prize. See, there’s Avi, waving me on, that great cloud of witnesses behind Him and lining both sides of the track, running in place with me, lending me the strength of their encouragement.
Avi, You are the God of second chances. It will never be too late to finish well until You Yourself have given up on me. Help me to finish the race. Catch me when I stumble and set me back on track. In Your holy name, Amen.
PS. Thank You for not giving up on me.