Finishing the Race

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7

I stood at the finish line of two races this weekend. One was the New York Marathon, the other was at the end of a well-lived life. At both, people were shattered, but limping and staggering home, confident of their ability to heal.

A dear member of our church family died more that a week ago. Although he hasn’t been at worship for nearly a year because of his declining health, he is still dearly missed. He brought a sense of humor and an uncommon passion for justice to our church family. As I listened to the comments of his friends and family throughout the service, I realized that I knew only on small part of this person who took great risks and went to great lengths to live a life obedient to God’s calling.

That was yesterday.

Today, I cheered on marathon runners at mile 25. A friend and I handed out water to exhausted, staggering and bleeding runners. As the day wore on, the runners who came past our station were more worn out. The seasoned marathoners had finished hours ago, the folks who were now passing the water station were running not out of physical strength, but out of sheer willpower. You could see the determined set of their eyes as they dragged their feet along this last mile pavement. We yelled every encouragement we could to these warriors as they passed. We hoped to empower them to finish the race.

The marathon inspires me every year, but this year it was different. I was watching through a mourner’s eyes—As one reflecting on the metaphorical race we all run in life. I watched the runners pass: Each battling their own demons telling them to stop. Each one finding the strength to take another step.

I don’t know how I will look at the end of my race. But after today, I know how I want to be – determined, single-minded, always faithful to the goal, and never ever loosing hope.