March 2021 – Michele Huey

Read and reflect on 2 Timothy 4:6–8; Hebrews 12:1–3.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. – 2 Timothy 4:7 (NIV)

Last week, I began a three-part series called “The Deathbed Perspective.”

The apostle Paul wrote his second letter to the young pastor Timothy from a deathbed perspective. He was in his last days on earth and penned the words we’re focusing on in this series: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

But those aren’t just words to die by—they’re words to live by.

This week we’re going to look at the second part of that verse: I have finished the race.

I’ve always admired runners for their coordination and grace, which I never possessed, even when I was young and much lighter. Although I don’t run, I do understand what Paul is referring to and why he compares living the life of faith to running a race.

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews best describes how to run this race in chapter 12, verses 1–3.

First, throw off everything that hinders, or, as the New Living Translation phrases it, “strip off everything that slows us down.” Ever try to run with a pack on your back? Or with clunky boots instead of running shoes?

Sin hinders. Sin trips us up midstride. Unforgiveness, holding grudges, anger, jealousy, envy, resentment, pride, being judgmental . . . the list goes on. Each unconfessed sin is like a rock in a pack on your back. So confess it to God, ask forgiveness, ask Him to pluck from your heart and mind, and fling it off!

Second, run with perseverance. Remember, the race we run is not a sprint—it’s a marathon. To persevere, we need fortitude—strength, courage, resilience, stamina, grit, determination, and endurance. At the start of a race, these qualities are in abundant supply, but as we run, they dwindle.

When the race of life is getting too much for me, I’ve learned I can slow my pace or stop and rest a while. Sometimes we need that time to lie down in green pastures, beside quiet waters to restore our souls (Psalm 23:2, 3). Replenishing that which was spent in the run is a good idea, too. Runners feed their bodies carbohydrates to give them energy. Spiritually, we feed ourselves on God’s Word—His promises—and reminders of how He’s come through for us in the past.

The third way we persist in the race is to keep our eyes on the finish line: Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

While I’ve never run a race, I have hiked a mile up a mountain and another mile back down (neither was easy, believe me). Toward the end, every muscle in my body screamed with fatigue. Every pore oozed sweat. I just wanted my husband to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way.

I finished the hike by putting one aching foot in front of the other and imagining my reward when I got back to the camper—a long, hot shower; clean clothes; and a soft seat by the campfire (with a good book).

For the joy at His finish line—the salvation of our souls—Jesus endured the cross and was given a throne of honor in heaven. I haven’t endured such shame and pain as He did. Few in this life of faith will.

But the joy we have waiting for us at the finish line, is “exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20).

So keep your eyes on the prize, pilgrim, put one foot in front of the other. Someday you’ll reach the finish line and rejoice.

Dear God, give me the strength, courage, and fortitude I need to run the race of life. Amen.

NOTE: Next week, we’ll look at the third part of that verse: “I have kept the faith.”

Read and reflect on 2 Timothy 4:6–8.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. – 2 Timothy 4:7 (NIV)

Call me crazy, but I tend to make important life decisions from what I call “the deathbed perspective.” I imagine myself on my deathbed, looking back on my life. At the end of my earthly sojourn, would I regret this decision or rejoice I chose to go that route?

Of course, we know when faced with a decision, we can always ask God for wisdom, and He’ll oblige (James 1:5). Perhaps this is God’s way of giving me that wisdom, because from the deathbed perspective, my priorities are clear, and I know the way I should take. So far, I’ve never regretted a decision made from the deathbed perspective.

In his second letter to the young pastor Timothy, the apostle Paul also had a deathbed perspective—and it truly was his deathbed. He was in his last days on earth—imprisoned in a cold dungeon, chained like a common criminal, alone, as he awaited his martyrdom.

Here he penned the words I told my husband I wanted on my tombstone: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

But those aren’t just words to die by—they’re words to live by.

This week we’re going to look at the first part of that verse: I have fought the good fight.

This tells me the Christian life is a battleground not a playground. The life of faith is a fight because faith doesn’t come easy and it doesn’t grow easily.

As believers we are in a war with God’s infernal enemy, and we do battle daily in three arenas of warfare: the world, the flesh, and the devil (yes, he does exist).

The world is the spirit of the age, the anti-Christ attitude, the realm of the God’s enemy. Paul accurately described the spirit of the age in his letter to Timothy (read 2 Timothy 3:1–5).

The second arena is the flesh—our human, or carnal, nature, prone to sin, which is constantly at war with our spiritual nature (John 3:3; Romans 7 & 8; 1 Corinthians 2:6–14). Just look at the temptations to sin you face daily. This war will rage until our spirits are freed from our earthly bodies.

The third arena is the devil. When you receive Jesus as your Savior, you immediately switch sides in a war that goes back to Lucifer’s rebellion in heaven (Isaiah 14:12–15; Ezekiel 28:11–19; Luke 10:18). The enemy has been prowling around ever since, seeking the destruction of believers (1 Peter 5:8).

But we are not left without weapons.

First, put on your armor (Ephesians 6:10–18). After all, why would the Word advise us to put on our armor if we weren’t to do battle?

Second, pray. A praying Christian terrifies the enemy.

Third, know God’s Word. It is your sword (Ephesians 6:17). Learn to use it and use it often and well.

Fourth, resist. The Word tells us to “resist the devil and he will flee from you” (James 4:7; 1 Peter 5:9).

Fifth, remember that “greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world”(1 John 4:4).

Finally, remember the war is already won. It was won when the Son of God died in your place on a Roman cross then burst out of a sealed tomb three days later. Don’t believe me? Read Revelation.

I know, there are times you feel anything but a victor. You feel beaten, weak, small, forgotten, and alone.

But you’re not. Remember these verses:

When you feel beaten: You are more than a conqueror (Romans 8:37).

When you feel weak: His grace is all you need (2 Corinthians 12:9). Christ living in you gives you strength (Philippians 4:13).

When you feel small: You are loved by the God who created the universe (Psalm 36:5). You are the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8). You are engraved on the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:16). You are precious to Him (Isaiah 43:4).

When you feel forgotten and alone: He will never forget you (Isaiah 49:15). He will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5). His Spirit lives in you (1 Corinthians 3:16).

Onward and upward, soldier. Keep fighting the good fight.

Remind me, Father God, I’m in this world not to frolic but to fight the good fight of faith. Help me to use my weapons often and well. Amen.

NOTE: Next week, we’ll look at the second part of that verse: “I have finished the race.”

Michele Huey

Month: March 2021

The Deathbed Perspective, Part 2: Running the Race

The Deathbed Perspective: Part 1 Fight the Good Fight

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: