Running

Paul's speaking my language this morning (1 Cor 9:24-27) when he talks about running and training. "Run in such a way as to get the prize," he says. "Go into strict training."

I started running in junior high, and I'm still at it. That's about 35 years of running. Some of it was competitive, track and cross-country. In the Guard, it was semi-competitive; we had to pass our PT tests, of course, but there was a lot of pressure for officers to do well, to lead by example.

But here's my problem: A few years ago, I retired from the Guard. At that point, after more than three decades of racing the clock, I decided I would never again look at time and distance on the same run. In other words, I can never know how fast I'm going. My thought was to take the pressure out of running, and make it fun again.

Paul might call that running aimlessly. Since the only role for running in my life right now is fitness, that's probably OK.

In those matters of faith, though, which is always what Paul is really talking about, that seems like less of a good thing, but I do it anyway.

It's easy for me to think that I don't have to work as hard at my own sanctification as I used to. I used to spend 30-45 minutes in devotional reading, poring over a passage, making copious notes in the margins. I used to keep a prayer journal. I used to post reminders all over my office, wear a cross, all to keep me focused so I would continue to work hard. I used to, in Paul's words, "Beat my body and make it my slave" in matters of growing holy.

Now, though, Sunday worship can easily seem like enough. Throw in a committee assignment or two, a few conversations about the sermon, and the occasional sermon I write myself, and I think why make it any harder than that? Dinner table devotions, enough space in my day for reflection . . . those things seem to take too much effort.

That's one reason I started blogging my devotional reflections - it's a form of discipline. It's also why I've taken to carrying a camera almost everywhere I go. I figure if I'm actively looking for things to photograph, it will help me to see the many blessings around me, all the ways God is at work.

That probably still isn't enough, but it's moving me in a direction I want to go. It's making me slow down and think about what I'm reading, and how it applies to my life. It's making me be more aware of God's revelation and common grace. Is it enough to win the prize? Is it ever enough?