When the road ahead is rocky, don’t lose your focus on God
Ihave friends who love to run as much as I do, but will only do so on asphalt or cement. It’s all about having an even, predictable surface beneath their feet. It’s all about no surprises.
I understand their preference, even though I don’t share it. When you don’t have to worry about roots, rocks and sudden dips in the trail, you have the luxury of looking around and taking in the scenery. But when you run mountain trails as I love to do, you have to watch your feet.
You have to keep your focus. If you don’t, you will always pay a price.
At best, a stumble shakes you to the core. Even if you catch yourself, you have to slow down, recalibrate and shake it off. At worst, it might even take you out of a race.
I remember a spectacular trail race in the beautiful North Cascade Mountains. Leaping down that jagged rocky path, I was feeling great to have done so well up the 5 miles and 2,000 feet of elevation gain now behind me.
Downhill all the way to the finish, I had it made. Everything was going my way — until I came around one of the switchbacks and met someone coming up the trails. There in front of me was a German photographer with walking sticks, German hiking hat and lederhosen.
There was nothing wrong with the outfit. It was the incongruity of it that threw me.
Just for a moment, I took my eyes off the trail to gape at the unusual sight before me. At the same time, my right toe caught the corner of a piece of granite sticking out of the ground. I hit the rocky trail trying to roll, but the sharp rocks grabbed at my hide and skin with malice.
Ooh, I hurt. I tried to jump up quickly, but that did not happen.
“Oh meine Güte!” gasped the German. And then in English, “Are you OK?”
“Of course, I’m not OK!” I wanted to yell, but bit my lip. “I think so,” I said, hobbling on down the trail out of his sight. By now, blood was streaming down my right shoulder, elbow and leg.
I had been running so well and one minor distraction had tripped me up.
The end of the race was well over 6 miles away and although downhill, it was steep and rocky all the way. I hobbled. I groaned. I berated myself a thousand times. But I eventually crossed the finish line.
The New Testament tells us that as Christians, we too are in a race. And we have never been promised that the path will be smooth or easy.
In Hebrews 12:1-2 (NLT) we read, “Let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus.”
Solomon put it like this: “Watch your step, and the road will stretch out smooth before you. Look neither right nor left; leave evil in the dust” (Proverbs 4:26-27, Message).
I am now in my sixth decade of life, and there is one thing for sure: I am closer to the finish line than ever. (And maybe closer than I know.) I want to finish my race, and finish strong.
That means keeping my focus on Jesus, where it belongs. That means refusing to be distracted by shiny objects or alluring side trails, bending off to the right or left.
I’ve come this far. God keep me from falling a few miles short of the finish line.