By Melissa Sharp
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” 2 Corinthians 4:17
As I set out at 4:00 a.m. on the morning of Saturday, October 12, 2024, with the intention of completing the “Heartland Hundred” 100 mile race, I soon became a bit disheartened. Although the early start they offered (normal start is at 6:00 a.m.) would allow me to get some miles in before the record setting temperature of 92 degrees engulfed us all, I was the only runner who opted to take advantage of this gracious offer. This meant I would spend several hours (I wouldn’t even see an open aid station until mile 16) running the remote hills and open plains of Cassoday, Kansas in the darkness by myself. Now I’ve run my fair share of long runs solo, but the darkness, combined with the loneliness on this particular day, threatened to steal my joy.
The joy of the Lord is my strength, but I know I must guard it at all costs when I experience anxiety.
But to add to my discouragement, the course was much harder than I had expected it to be. There were numerous rocks and ruts, and not seeing other runners, quickly took a mental toll. It would be three hours before I would encounter my first human and glimpses of sunlight. Throughout the rest of that day, that night, the next day, and the next afternoon (it took nearly 32 hours to finish), I encountered more difficulties than I can recall, like—doubt, discouragement, bouts of nausea, intense fatigue, frustration and pain.
I was tempted to give up and take a dreaded DNF for this race.
But then, I commanded my heart to remember this… tomorrow would come either way. There was no stopping it. Which meant I could press on through to the finish line no matter how toilsome it might become to do so. OR, I could drop out and lose the opportunity to point someone to the foot of the cross by giving God all the glory for completing something that could only be done by His strength. So I determined then to keep running with all my might—knowing that the length and the severity of the pain that was to come wouldn’t last long in view of eternity.
As I ran, my mind drifted back to my first 100 mile in March of 2017.
Everything was going “right” that day. The weather was perfect. The course was flat and lined with finely packed gravel that was easy on the feet. I had a great team and I was properly trained, free from injury, running well and on pace to come in well under 24 hours. Then around mile 60 the wheels of the bus came off. I hit a brick wall and my feet began burning with intense pain, which I later learned was an allergy to the latex in the compression socks I was wearing.
“I feel horrible,” I told my son, Luke, when he met me at the aid station.
“Just drink some coffee and eat some bacon (does that not solve everything?) and get back out there. You can’t quit now! You’ve made it too far,” Luke said. “And I’ll start pacing you early at the next aid station.”
Knowing that he had only trained to take me 25 miles, I asked him if he was sure he could run the 31 miles remaining after the next aid station. He assured me he could. My son’s encouragement went a long way in refreshing my spirit.
I had a few ebbs and flows over the next nine miles but, by God’s grace, I was able to make it to the aid station where Luke was waiting. We set out for the remaining miles and though my feet were burning to the point that it felt as if I was walking on hot coals over and over I was praying that if it was not God’s will to take away the pain, that He would give me the ability to bear it. As my son and I walked those last miles together and I questioned whether I could keep going, Luke said something to me that I will never forget.
“Mom, there’s no stopping tomorrow from coming and the sun from eventually rising. If you give up now, you’ll save yourself some pain right now but I know you, and you’ll regret that decision. Regret makes a very hard pillow. And you’ll regret not pressing on through the pain and finishing the race. And… you’ll have to live with that regret.”
Those wise words spoken by my teenage son were exactly what I needed to hear. “You’re not giving up,” I kept saying to myself over and over throughout the next hours of the night as the Lord graciously gave me the ability to endure the suffering. “This pain will be a memory soon so suck it up and keep going.” And keep going we did, pressing on through the pain, eventually crossing the finish line right about the time the sun was coming up.
This pressing on through the pain was something the Apostle Paul clearly understood when he wrote,
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”
Paul was no stranger to affliction, having experienced numerous beatings, floggings, hunger, thirst, false imprisonment, and shipwrecks. So for him to consider what he went through “light” and “but for a moment” was saying something!
But Paul had his eyes on the eternal prize!
Thus, he wrote:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.”
2 Timothy 4:7-8
This eternal view continuously reminded Paul that one day he would be with Christ in heaven for eternity! And because of that, he could, he should, and he would—press on to finish the race. Paul understood that suffering is incredibly hard to endure in the moment and seems as if it will last forever, but in view of eternity and all that he would gain by not giving up, it’s really light and momentary. He had the promise of Jesus to help him endure affliction:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
2 Corinthians 12:9
My friend, no matter what trouble or affliction you might be facing today, consider it light and fleeting in view of eternity. This will not only allow you, like Paul, to boast in your sufferings so that God may be glorified through them—but will help you to live life with no regrets, knowing that you have finished the race and kept the faith.
Heavenly Father, thank You for reminding us that our present troubles are small and fleeting when compared with the glory You are producing through us. Give us the strength to endure everything in our path as we run our race with endurance with our eyes on the final finish line. It’s in your precious name we pray, Jesus. Amen.
Happy Running!