I want you to imagine that you’ve signed up to run a marathon. I know it’s hard for most of you to picture yourself doing such a thing, but humor me. You’ve been building your endurance by daily jogs around the neighborhood. You’ve run a few half-marathons and done well. You’ve suffered, but you’ve survived. Now you want to test yourself. Can I run 26.2 miles in just a few hours?
The day of the contest arrives. You’re fit. You’re fresh after a good night’s rest. The morning sun warms your smiling face. You’re ready to run. The starter’s pistol fires and you surge forward. Your first steps are full of energy. Your heart and lungs feed your body all the oxygen it needs to operate. What are you experiencing? Joy! That’s what you’re experiencing. Life is good!
You run on and on. An hour into the race, you’re beginning to feel tired. Your steps are not quite so lively, but you keep going. Snacking on the energy bar you picked up at the last checkpoint perks you up a bit. You thank God for calories. What are you feeling now? Joy? Maybe, but not the same passionate exuberance you felt earlier, but it’s there. Just under the surface is an almost uncontainable excitement. Life is hard, but you’re still moving toward the finish line.
Mile 17 passes under your feet. Your whole body aches. You’ve disciplined your legs and arms to keep pumping, but they’re protesting every stride, every swing. Your limbs ask why every time your mind says move. Someone hands you a cup of water. You take a swig. You’ve never tasted water so sweet. Your mind tempts you to stop and drink more. But drinking water, no matter how satisfying, is not what this day is about. This day is about completing 26.2 miles on your own two feet. Do you still have joy? Yes! Though dulled a bit by the agony you’re experiencing, it’s still there. The prize is not far off. It’s just around the bend.
You pass under a banner that reads, One more mile. The crowd lining the path you’ve chosen is thicker here. Everyone claps and cheers as you plod past. You’re sick with pain. You no longer think of water or food or the brilliant sunshine. You only think of crossing the finish line. Rest awaits you. Blessed, blissful repose! But more than that keeps you moving. Joy! You know in just a few minutes you’ll have conquered what seemed nearly impossible a month or two ago. Tears stream down your face as you round the final corner and spot the finish line. Your steps regain some of their original buoyancy. You raise your hands in victory as you break the tape and fall into the arms of your loved ones who’ve supported you all morning long. Finished! You can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Life is good!
That’s the story of life, friends. You’re running a long-distance race. There’s pain along the way to be sure. Disease takes us from time to time. Financial setbacks grieve us. Friends offend us. But there’s pleasure too. Wedding days enthrall us. Kids are born. Delicacies fill our plates. And beneath all of this, behind both the distress and the delight, there’s joy. When...if...we think of the finish line and the prize that awaits, we’re overwhelmed with pure, unadulterated exuberance.
Heaven awaits us, believers! Eternity with our Savior! Pleasure beyond anything you have ever dreamed of in your moments of greatest faith. So enjoy the sweet waters of this life, the good things God sends your way, and keep your eyes on the purpose of the race when pain enters unwanted. It’s all about the finish line. The prize awaits! Keep running with joy!
(For more on the joy of looking foward to heaven read The Slumber of Christianity by Ted Dekker.)
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