My sun sign is Libra: the scales. Before I make a decision,
I balance everything out. I weigh, sniff, taste every alternative. It is said
that people waiting for a Libra to make a decision will time the process with a
calendar rather than a stop watch. I’m not that bad. At least, I don’t think I
am. Wait a minute. Maybe I am. But then, I might not be. Hmm. Can I get back
with you?
But when the Libra finally does make the decision, you might
as well sit down and make yourself comfortable. I can, at all times, be
persuaded by opposing facts, but until that happens, I have driven my tent
stakes ten feet into the ground (they are very long, heavy tent stakes) and it
takes an act of God to blow away my conviction.
This is where we all need to be in the closing days of this
eon: decisive and then sure. We must weigh the facts of every matter (family matters,
spiritual matters, matters concerning our bodies and health) and make
decisions. When we’ve made them, we must trust the reasons we made them, and
stick with those reasons until other facts redirect us. Because, folks, the winds are going to blow.
When you run a marathon—a 26.2 mile race—you always wonder—usually
somewhere after the 20-mile mark—why the hell you decided to run a marathon. It
seemed like such a good idea a couple months before, while dreaming of the glory of crossing the
finish line during an easy training run.
Then comes the race. It’s fun at first (I have run five marathons).
The excitement of running with great gobs of people and drinking as many free cups of Gatorade as
you can choke down, makes you glad you entered. But then comes the 20-mile mark.
As the waffles at the bottoms of your shoes melt into the pavement, you
question your sanity. And how can there be so many other stupid idiots in one
place, doing the same stupid thing?
While suffering, it is easy to talk yourself off the
course. When your legs start cramping
and you can’t slake your thirst anymore, you must trust that you had
good reasons for being here. You can’t think of one of them now—it’s true—but you
know you had at least a couple. Thus, the marathon now becomes a run of faith.
You already made the decision—now keep going. Try to remember the days when you
had weighed this out, and decided to do it.
None of us decided to be born. But we did decide to get
married. To have kids. To take that job. To buy the car. To start the exercise
program. To follow Christ no matter what. I have heard so many of you
say, “I can’t turn back now. How can I go back?” I hate to say this but,
relatively speaking, you can go back. You can quit the fight. I
know that’s a scary thought, but it’s real. This happened with some of Paul’s
closest companions.
“Demas, loving this current eon, forsook me” (2 Timothy
4:9).
Incredibly, it happened with all the ecclesias of Asia :
“All those in the province of Asia
were turned from me” (2 Timothy 1:15 ).
They were turned, not just from Paul, but from his message.
We cannot lose membership in the body of Christ. But we can—by
walking off the course—lose rewards at the dais of Christ given to those who
endure (2 Timothy 2:12 ).
This is a marathon, folks, and it ain’t over ‘til it’s over.
It ain’t over.
© 2012 by Martin Zender
