My racing days are over, at least for now. But reviewing, rewriting, and editing some of my old running posts has begun to stir within me a new hope and joy, not only in my running, but in all gifts where I meet God and enjoy his pleasure.

Join me again today as we continue to jog along memory lane, where I share with you about the finish line. If you missed the other posts in this series, you can get all caught up HERE.

 

The one place I learned to hold on to hope

January 2014

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

The reason I began running in the first place was because I was having a hard time getting rid of the proverbial “baby weight.” My youngest was almost two and all the excesses were still tenaciously sticking to my bones, my belly, and my thighs, my face, and well, pretty much everywhere. In an attempt to start reclaiming my dignity, I decided to take action.

An old pair of tennis shoes and I spent many hours pushing my boys around in a double stroller. But soon, walking turned into running, and running turned into leaving the boys home with their dad so that I could escape to my new-found outlet.

After several months, when my feet and knees began to gripe, I realized it was time to get some real running shoes. And when I began to understand the meaning of the “runner’s high,” I decided it was time to sign up for a real race.

The moment I crossed that first finish line was one of the most exciting experiences of my life. When I finished that race, and as I have completed every race since then, I feel something that I rarely get to feel: the end. Sometimes, the journey may not meet my expectations, nor the outcome match my hopes. But what I love about running and racing is the cycle of having a beginning –setting a goal, a life it lives–training, and a payoff–the finish line. I can mark it as done, I hear a “You did it!” cheer, and a shiny medal is hung around my neck. The finish line is a moment of triumph, reward, and completeness.  It is the moment in which hope is sealed. And even if the result is not the one I wished for, there is always another race to sign up for, another cycle to begin and complete.

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As human beings we crave completion and closure. We long to see a final product, a token of our hard work. We want to know that what we do counts. Sometimes we just need to see and reach the end. But so much of life is lived in hope deferred, and hope deferred hurts.

In real life, I don’t have the luxury of a finish line where I’m given a banana and yogurt as I chat with fellow runners about a race that I ran well (or not so well). I’m not given a glass of champagne as I chat with my friends and family about the triumphant (or not-so-triumphant) conclusion of my days. In real life, especially in the one I live now of wife and mother, I don’t get to take off my running shoes and set a new goal before I put them back on. I don’t get a certificate of completion or a shiny medal because I have successfully completed training and educating my children, or because my marriage has finally reached perfection. Without having an actual finish line within sight, this seemingly eternal race is exhausting, and hopelessness easily settles in; my heart grows sick.

From the very beginning, when hopelessness made its debut in the Garden because of sin, God announced a hint of hope for humanity. The Old Testament authors knew of this hope and spoke of it regularly. They had an expectation of a savior who would deliver mankind from sin’s slavery. In Psalms, David wrote, “O Israel, put your hope in the Lord! For with the Lord is unfailing love, and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins”  (Psalm 130:7-8). The New Testament introduces this Savior, one who conquered sin and its penalty–death–through His own death and resurrection: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3). Believers are continually encouraged to put their hope in Christ and in the promise of His return: “Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord” (James 5:7a). It is a finish line that is not yet seen but one we can put our hope in.

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In the meantime,  I cling to the gifts that remind me that the race of life is worth training for and worth running. I keep an eye on the promised finish line. I hang on tightly to glimpses into heaven, such as sunsets that take my breath away, forgiveness from someone I’ve hurt, receiving love that I don’t think I deserve, cooking a delicious meal and feeling delight as my loved ones enjoy it. I look forward to paychecks, thanks for a job well done, and the finish line at the end of a tough race. All of these are reminders that the promised true hope is on His way and is worth holding onto.

Thank you, Lord, that until that promised day, we have these gifts that don’t allow our hearts to stay sick.

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What gifts in your life help you hold onto hope?