“It just takes some time, little girlYou’re in the middle of the rideEverything, everything will be just fineEverything, everything will be alright, alright.”- Jimmy Eat World
At the forty-minute mark of this morning’s run, I wanted to be at the sixty-minute mark.
There are days when the run is just that, a run. The sun is up, my earphones are snug and blasting fixed-tempo electro-dance goodness into my ears, and each step is easy and enjoyable (considering my weight, of course). The hour goes by quickly, and in no time, I’m back at my door.
Today, however, I was made acutely aware that my run had a finish line, one that I wanted to reach as soon as possible. Not necessarily by running, of course. Maybe a friend could pass by and pick me up and take me home, or I could hitchhike my way back. My weapon of choice would probably be a wristwatch that speeds time so those last twenty minutes would zip by, and a blink later I’d be at my doorstep.
No such luck.
Minute 41 (or so): As I crossed the street at 155 beats per minute, I thought about Paul’s words to Timothy, written as he was nearing the end of his life:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
Fought. Finished. Kept.
Past tense.
The people in the Bible, the people like Paul? Their stories are complete. I take comfort in their stories because I know how their stories end. When he wrote those words to Timothy, Paul had completed his missionary ministry, as well as his writings, and by life’s end, God had worked out all the kinks until Paul was exactly what God had in mind for him.
Fast forward to me. Present tense. Much like my run, there have been lots of times when I’ve been in the middle of something and have wanted to reach the end in a blink. Countless times I’ve wanted to wake up and already be fit, to have reached my goal weight. To be more faithful, more trusting of Him. To see these projects and pet projects of mine already completed.
Most importantly, to be able to sit fondly at some cafe with some friends, sit back in satisfaction and recount “the good old days”. I would preface each memory with “Remember when?” and end with: “Good times, man.”
(Note: I’ve already done that with friends, so I know how happy it feels to reminisce about past successes. Good times indeed. Am I THAT old?)
Truth is, I know. I know I can’t always look forward to the day when I can speak in past tense. It’s too early for that. I know I’m supposed to enjoy each step, be they easy as pie or laborious. I know the journey counts as much as the destination. I know God’s called me to live here and now. I know I shouldn’t feel stuck in drudgery and monotony of the day-to-day. I know “tomorrow has worries of its own.”
Truth is, I know. I just need reminding every, oh I dunno, every single time.
So as I hit minute 42 (or so), bearing in mind Paul’s earlier words to the Philippians: “I press on toward the goal to win the prize…”, I decided to paraphrase his words to Timothy into something more, er, apt:
“I am fighting the good fight. I am finishing the race. I am keeping the faith.”
Fighting. Finishing. Keeping.
Present tense.
By the way, I did get to sixty minutes.
Tags: Apostle Paul, Christian, finish, God, life, Philippians, process, running, spiritual, tenses, Timothy, waiting, writing about life