Two weeks ago Judy and I were in Providence, Rhode Island, during the time of the Ironman competition. The participants were doing a half triathlon, which means they would run a half marathon, bicycle for a long ways and swim an insane distance (spoken by a non-swimmer). All told, they would cover 70.3 miles. Providence is hilly, so the course included many hills. We watched them as we made our way to church that Sunday morning, watched them as we walked to lunch, then watched many of them finish the race. What was amazing to me was the inordinate amount of support they got from the bystanders. Many of the watchers were family members cheering on their husband/father/wife/mother/brother/sister/grandmother (yes, we watched a 65 year old lady finish the race). But many of the watchers had no one in the race they knew. But still they cheered. The race ended on the lawn of the state house, another up-hill climb. An announcer called out the names and cities of residence of each runner as he/she finished. Everyone went wild as each athlete finished his or her race. What an amazing sight to behold.

Paul wrote to Timothy in 2 Tim. 4:7, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith….” Paul included in his letter some of the challenges he had faced and how many people had deserted him along the way. Many times he had to go it alone. It hit me as I read Paul’s testimony that our church should be like the Ironman crowd. We should be encouraging one another to finish the race strong and to keep the faith. I’m afraid too often we do just the opposite. If someone stumbles we ignore their plight and leave them alone. What we need to do is help them up and encourage them to keep on running the race. We should be cheering each other on, and especially as we get older and closer to the finish line of our lives. You’d think it would be easier as one gets older, but I’m discovering it’s not. It would be so easy to get cranky and expect the younger folks to cater to me.

Well, I finished the two letters to Timothy today and am glad. God worked me over through these letters and I’m ready to move to something else. The challenge is for me to apply what God has taught me. But then, that’s always the challenge for all of us. Let’s encourage one another to finish strong. I need the encouragement and have a suspicion you do too. Go baby, you can do it!

You’ve made it through another work week. I don’t pretend to know what you’ve faced this week, but I remember my days on the road, both as a consultant and as a salesman. When I was selling medical equipment I had a boss who thought my role included being his punching bag. Oh, he never hit me with his fists—he beat me up with words.

            During those days I lived for the weekends. I craved worship. Bacon Heights was a haven for me and helped me get ready to face the next week. I lived for words of affirmation. (When you earn your keep by making continual cold calls to members of the medical community who lack a prior knowledge of your product—well, it’s not an easy way to make money.)

            If you’re making your way home to lick your wounds and, hopefully, hear a few kind words, I offer some hope. 2 Timothy 2:19 tells us, “The Lord knows those who are His.” You might not feel like God remembers your name, but He does. In the midst of your challenges, remember the rest of this verse, “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord abstain from wickedness.” My most vulnerable time during my sales days came toward the end of the week when the weight of the week was burdensome. Fortunately, God was faithful during those days and 1 Corinthians 10:13 was proven time and again in my life. That passage says, “No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it.”

            Weary Christian, take heart! The weekend is here and we get to worship together Sunday. It’s my privilege to preach this weekend and I’m speaking on the topic of God’s faithfulness. I hope to see you and for you to hear an encouraging word.

We spent the last few days of our vacation in the New England area—Providence, Rhode Island, and Boston. It must have been our distinct way of speaking that attracted attention and the requisite question, “Where you from?” (Notice the economy of words—blending “where” and “are” into one word.) Of course, we’d puff our chests and proudly proclaim, “We’re from Lubbock, Texas.” The normal response was, “Oh, I love Texas!” (How could they not?) Then would come the challenge of helping them grasp the size of our great state because they’d say, “I have a friend who lives in Dallas” like they expected us to know the friend. When I told them Dallas was 325 miles to the east, then added that El Paso was 500 miles west of us, they’d look at me like I was delusional. If you live in the smallest state in the union and have never traveled more than 100 miles from your home, you just can’t grasp the vastness of Texas.

            God’s been teaching me some things about myself this week that I don’t like. He’s using 2 Timothy to do it. Paul told Tim in 2 Timothy 2:4 “No soldier in active service entangles himself in the affairs of everyday life, so that he may please the one who enlisted him as a soldier.” After reading these words, I realized I’m pretty entangled in the affairs of this world. It never crossed my mind to tell those New Englanders, “I’m from the Kingdom of God.” (If I’d replied that way it probably would have been a conversation stopper.) It’s a sad commentary on me that I think more in terms of what Paul called “the affairs of everyday life.” It’s also a sad commentary on our culture that today, over 4 centuries since the Pilgrims landed in this land in search of freedom of worship, we’ve become a nation that devalues worship and is ignorant of spiritual truths. Whose fault is this? Can’t blame the spiritually lost—they don’t understand the things of God. Can’t blame God—He’s faithful. Can’t blame the government—not their job.

            As much as I’d like to blame someone, the blame begins with me. I’m a follower of Jesus Christ, have been a “professional minister” for 39 years and I still have an entanglement problem. No, can’t say I like what God has been teaching me this week about myself. I can say I’m thrilled that God hasn’t given up on me yet. As Jerry preached last Sunday, God is patient. “Thank You, God for being patient with me. I’ll try not to wear Your patience too thin.”

The Bible is anything but a book of formulas, it’s a book about relationships—God-with-man and man-with-man. Occasionally there does appear to be a formula that needs to be taken seriously. In 2 Timothy 1:7 Paul writes, “For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.”  Personally, there have been too many times in my life when I’ve been timid, felt powerless, loveless and undisciplined. This verse is a wakeup call to me, and I think, to the church at large. In our denomination I’ve witnessed churches being bold and exercising what they thought was discipline, but lacking love, they have lost their power. Our denomination has come dangerously close to losing our power—with God and man—because we’ve stopped demonstrating love.

            414 Compassion is a call to return to what God has intended for His children. We’re not to be timid in ministering to our neighborhood, but must do it with a combination of power, love and discipline. If we fail to love, it won’t matter how much discipline we apply, we’ll lose the power to change lives.

            Just prior to this, Paul wrote about Timothy’s heritage of faith. He said, “For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmother Lois, and your mother Eunice, and I am sure that it is in you as well.” My investments for retirement have taken a terribly blow—as has yours—and I’ll be fortunate to have enough set aside to care for Judy and me after we stop working. It is doubtful that I’ll be able to leave our children much of anything in the way of an inheritance. What we can leave them is a heritage of faith. It’s my prayer that we will finish strong this race we’re running and leave our children, grandchildren, and (hopefully) great grandchildren, a strong example of faith lived out.