November 23, 2019

365 Days of the Great Names of God, Day 358: Giver of Victory

Giver of Victory

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." (2 Timothy 4:7,8 NIV)

The runner has started his race. It is a marathon, so he knows he has a long journey ahead of him, but he is determined not only to finish but to win. He wants the victory.

The race course has already been marked out by the Forerunner. The Founder of the race has sent a Companion to help the runners along.

The runner is on his way and making good time, but before long, he comes upon a fellow racer who is on the ground, crawling. The runner does not stop. He wants to win. He wants the victory. He can't afford to lose time. But his conscience pulls him back, and he circles around and returns to the figure who is on his hands and knees. "What's wrong?" the runner asks, and the other man tells him, "I can't go on. I'm already tired. It's too hard and too far. It's lonely, running all by myself."

The runner tells him, "You can do it. Just take one step, one section of the course at a time. I'll run with you." He helps the other man up, and they resume the race together. After awhile, the second runner says, "I'm getting my second wind. I know I can do this now. Thank you." He sprints ahead. 


The Companion comes up beside the runner. "Well done," He says.

But the runner is dejected. "I lost too much time. I won't win now. I won't get the victory."

The Companion tells him, "That was the victory."

The runner continues on. He knows he won't finish first, but he thinks he can still make the top three. He can still be victorious. But soon he comes upon a fellow racer sitting by the side of the road, looking sick. The runner stops and asks what's wrong. "I'm so thirsty, and I'm out of water," he says miserably.

"There's a water station just ahead," the runner tells the other man. "I'll get some for you and bring it back." He does this, and the other man thanks him and continues, rejuvenated, on his way.

The Companion comes up beside the runner. "Well done," He says.

But the runner is dejected. "I lost too much time. I won't even finish in the top three now. I won't get any victory."

The Companion tells him, "That was the victory."

The runner keeps going. He thinks he might still be able to finish in the top ten. He can still have a victory. But soon, he hears heavy footsteps behind him. A hard blow to his back knocks him down. Another runner has hit him with a heavy pack. The runner is hurt. His assailant does not stop, does not apologize, does not look back. He continues the race. The runner picks up the heavy load. He thinks he will carry it all the way to the finish line. He will not set it down. He will show his offender what he has borne. The pack is slowing him down, but he will not let it go. It is proof of how he has been hurt.

The Companion comes up beside the runner. "Why don't you leave that pack?" He asks. "Your foe used it to hurt you, but you don't have to keep carrying it. It's not going to do you any good to keep lugging it along."

Reluctantly, the runner sets the pack down. It is hard to let go. He wants to show his enemy how long he has carried it. He wants proof of the offense. But he slowly loosens his grip and leaves the load by the side of the road.

"Well done," the Companion says.

But the runner is dejected. "I lost too much time. I won't win now. I won't get the victory."

The Companion tells him, "That was the victory."

After a long time, the runner crosses the finish line. He is not first. He is not in the top three. He is not in the top ten. He thinks he has not won any victory.

But the Founder of the race comes up to him. "Well done," He tells him.

The runner protests. "But I didn't win. I didn't get the victory."

The Founder of the race tells him, "You encouraged others along the way. You were kind. You showed compassion. You let go of an offense. Those were the victories."

He hands the runner a crown. It is engraved with a single word: "righteousness."

"Well done," He says to the runner. "Welcome home."

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I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to tell me what you really think. Years ago, I explained to my then-two-year-old that my appointment with a counselor was "sort of like going to a doctor who will help me be a better mommy." Without blinking, she replied, "You'd better go every day." All of which is just to say I've spent some time in the school of brutal honesty!