One of my favorite high school activities was running track. I relished the nervous thrill of standing on the starting line and the exhilaration of crossing the finish line. But mostly, I loved pushing my body to higher limits while my cleats dug into the cinders (or an actual all-weather surface on those more fortunate occasions). I also loved my coach. He was supportive, endearingly sarcastic, and challenged me to do my best.
Coach learned the way I ran. By watching me at practice, he noted my strengths and weaknesses. And while He did make me aware of my shortcomings, He coached me according to my strengths.
One of the tendencies he noticed early on was the extra burst of speed I always produced when coming around the final turn into the straightaway. It mattered not if I was running a 1600 or 800 or 400-meter race; when I hit that last turn, there was always a little extra reserve that Coach dubbed my “kick.”
Depending upon the speed of the particular heat, he usually had me hang back in second or third position. I would settle my pace behind another runner or two, letting them break the air current until that final curve.
Heading into that turn, I would hear Coach’s voice rise above the crowd, “Now, Bettinger! Kick it!” He intentionally used my surname to ensure I recognized his instruction was intended for me. And while there were plenty of other voices shouting, I always could pick out Coach’s above the rest.
When the directive came, I increased my speed, passing the opponents in front of me (or at least giving them a solid run for their money, no pun intended) as we raced toward the finish line.
Though I sometimes wondered at the timing of Coach’s command, I knew I could trust his call. After all, his position allowed him a full view of the track. Which also meant he could see every opponent and their positions in relation to mine. He would know when a competitor was getting too close or if I was hanging too far back.
When Coach told me to “kick it,” I could trust his reasoning even if I sometimes questioned it. It was not until I crossed the finish line that I understood his strategy and the wisdom behind it. Then we would discuss what I did well or needed to improve.
Here’s to another life lesson chalked up to Coach.
I’m reaching the point in life where I’m rapidly approaching that final turn heading toward an earthly finish line. And I want to finish strong.
I don’t want the opposition to do me in, so it’s a good thing I have a heavenly Coach to keep me moving forward.
2 Peter 1:3 tells us, His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through the knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence.
We do not run this race alone. We run with the empowerment of the Holy Spirit indwelling us, keeping us aware of our surroundings. Training us according to our strengths while supporting us through our weaknesses.
Our eternal Coach stands at the ready.
Always watching over us.
Warning us of the opposition.
Inviting us to trust His perspective more than our stilted and limited view.
Reminding us of why and how we are running in the first place.
And calling us to “Kick it!” when needed.
The longer I run this Christian race, the more I want to live aware of my surroundings and the people in them. I want to impact others with my prayers and encourage them with my words. I want to hear my Coach shouting out my name and trust His directives as they convict my soul.
But the truth is, some days, the race seems more strenuous than others. Sometimes I feel ill-equipped and out of shape, wondering if I have the strength to endure another step, let alone cross over victorious. Some days, I’m just downright exhausted from all this living.
Until I hear Coach’s voice. The One who calls out to my waning strength, knowing I have what it takes because He has trained me well.
He persuades me to press on to what lies ahead even as I outrun the demons from my past. He confidently determines my present challenges will not defeat me and insists I strain toward that final goal, giving one last kick to propel me to victory.
And when I’m feeling close to spent, He reminds me He has already crossed over before me, smoothing the way and readying my welcome.
The Author and Finisher of our faith has it all under control. And that’s why I keep running.
That’s why I continue to strain toward the goal of receiving the promised gift of eternal life in Christ.
But I hope to do so by setting my pace as He suggests, heeding His warnings, and listening for His voice above all others.
I pray I finish strong and show Him that this ol’ gal still has some spiritual kick left in her.
No matter how much of the race I’ve yet to run.
No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.
– Philippians 3:13-14, NLT
When Jesus gives directions, it’s time to trust & obey; especially when it doesn’t make any sense.