As I grow older, I have come to learn life really is a race, run in different phases. We start out as helpless infants who need constant care. Before learning to speak we learn to get assistance with different cries and noises, sometimes quiet and weak at other times loud and prolonged. Our caregivers faithfully race to rescue us and supply our needs.
Through some small miracles, we reach the age of 2 years. We race in everything we do, and every place we go, racing constantly, to the echoing word “NO.”
We are learning language, and how to communicate. No is a strong starting first word very easy to hear and understand. The perfect word to start life’s race with, a warning word, no will come and go through our minds during the whole race, sometimes we will listen sometimes we won’t.
One day, usually while you’re at school puberty starts to take control of your body. You wonder what’s happening? I think something is going awry. Physical and psychological demons are fighting over my mind and body. Doubt and dread were foreign to me yesterday. You just got slam dunked into the adolescent stage of indecision and despair. Change wants to rule your mind leaving you in wonder about self. You might feel like staying in bed and hiding from the rest of the world. It, feel’s best to shut everything else out, stay in your quiet little shell. That feeling will soon pass as a young adult you continue your education or join the workforce.
Upon entering the workforce your first lesson is to be on time. From that day on don’t start out late and race to your job. It would be easier to get up early, old habits are hard to break. It seems like Friday will never come each week. Your race to work made you successful, with a wife, and children and lots of stuff. That’s what modern life is all about. You fulfilled the American dream, you have a big house, three-car garage, loving family and loads of stuff.
As you get older the body slows down. It finally becomes an all-day snail pace, a slow race to put your clothes and shoes on. Everything gets done in super slow motion, but it is still a race for the finish line. Fridays seem to be every other day, meaning the end must be near, but you can’t see, or hurry it. You know it will come for you, it’s a fact, your days are numbered but you know not how many. You continue that living race in a worn-out body, soon needing special care again. Your final hope is to be able to say, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
2 Timothy 4:7 English Standard Version (ESV)