It's A Race

It's often been said of me that my default setting is to be independent, and those people are probably right.

I'm not trying to be arrogant and say that I can do without any one's help, but most of the time I feel that there are so many things wrong with me as a person that if I didn't have independent tendencies, I'd be someone who caused a real inconvenience to the people around me.

That said, the 10k run that I completed in September taught me a few valuable lessons that I hope I learn from.

I hope that I understand the benefit of being part of a community who are running towards a goal together. To be part of a group with a common cause, and where just finishing the race was the goal. There was no prize for first place. It didn't matter how many other runners I passed, or how many others passed me.

Spiritually, I'm often guilty of treating the race of living life as a Christian as being a competition. That I need to be in first place, recognised and lauded for my performance. And as I'm rarely in first place, I look with envy of those who are doing well in their race. I wonder how much better off I will be as a follower of Jesus if I choose to adopt the same perspective that I managed to grasp during my sponsored run; that I'm running as part of a community. Not trying to emerge from that community as number one.

I hope I understand what it means to be cheered on by a great crowd. I approached the last 500m metres of the course with heavy legs and a burning sensation in my lungs. The community of runners had started to flag and those who had acted as pacemakers to me earlier in the race had fallen behind and I was a good distance away from the nearest other runners. I contemplated stopping running and slowing to a walk. I didn't want to do this-I had challenged myself at the start line to keep running the whole distance, and not resist the urge to slow to a walk. With the pacemakers gone, the temptation returned to the surface.

Until I rounded a corner and began to hear the noise of the supporters on the finish line. Clapping. Cheering. Urging the runners to continue.

Urging me to continue.

I managed to glimpse Rachel's face in the crowd. Clearly I was spurred on by this and determined not to falter and appear weak in her sight. But the others who didn't know me were still cheering, still clapping, still yelling encouragement to me to keep going. And I suddenly found myself not wanting to fail in their sight either.

The writer of the book of Hebrews talks to his readers of being surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and how the presence of these witnesses should act as a catalyst to get rid of everything that is trying to hinder the completion of the race and encourage them to persevere and keep their eyes on the goal. Maybe I understand this concept out of experience more than just theory now.

What I mean to say is a thank you to those who sponsored me and supported me on what was quite a crazy idea in the first place.

Thank you to all of you, seen and unseen, who invite me to be part of a community of followers of Jesus who are running the race of faith together, not in competition. And thanks to those, seen and unseen, who send love and encouragement my way to keep running, even when all my instincts are saying it would be easier to give up.

I hope I keep running.