Lance Armstrong and Finish Lines.

(I’m writing this standing in line at the dinning hall.)

Last week I was glued to the TV following the Tour Down Under, cycling’s first premier stage race of the season. For six days, professional cyclists hit the road cruising at ridiculous speeds in a ridiculous heat. Over the six days of racing, over 300,000 fans lined the streets to watch. All because the greatest of all time was making his return debut in South Australia. Lance Armstrong was in the saddle again. His first race in over three years let the world know he was still the same Lance. Finishing just forty seconds behind the leader, Lance was quoted as saying this was the best he’d ever felt in January.

Look out peloton.

But, it got me to thinking. I was climbing this particulary steep hill on Saturday and my legs were screaming and I just wanted to cruise the rest of the way up. Then the thought struck, “What if Lance is at the top of that hill and all I had to say for myself was I got tired?” Or what if I reach the finish line and he’s standing right there, would I be able to tell him I left it all on the course? That I gave everything I could give? That when everyone else cracked, I found another level?

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

A great cloud of witnesses. All gathered in the arena. Cheering. Screaming. Urging us on. Challenging us to finish the race and fight the good fight.

Imagine the great heroes of our faith waiting at the finish line. Paul. Peter. James. Mathew. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. All gathered in one place, cheering for us.

It makes me wonder what I will say at the finish line. Will I leave it all on the course? Will I finish worthy of standing in their midst? Will I finish, holding nothing back? Or will there be things left unsaid, battles not fought, and victories not won? Will my race be worthy of the one I call my Savior?

I don’t know about you, but I want to finish the race knowing I wasted every last ounce of strength so I might be counted worthy.

I wonder what it might be like to collapse every night utterly exhausted knowing that I rode farther and loved harder than anyone else.

So, my challenge is, how will you finish?

Drink Coffee. Ride a bike. Party Hard. Love Harder.

-junglejon

I have a dream…

[I've been reading Rob Bell's Jesus Wants to Save Christians and I want to give some credit to where these thoughts are coming from.]

We all have dreams. Whether they be the visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads while we sleep or dreams of some future glory on the football gridiron, we all have them. As little kids we dream of being firefighters or astronauts. Then we dream dreams of leading teams to national titles and playing on Sunday afternoons. And as we get older we dream of finding the perfect wife (or husband, for our lady readers) and having the perfect home and making the perftect amount of money. Then we dream about our kids and their futures.

Awesome.

But, if you look at the progression of dreams (if you dreamt like me), they kind of gradually get less and less exciting. I mean, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a super hero and save the world and be awesome all at the same time. Now, I dream about the end of the semester and Georgia football. Which is fine, but isn’t as cool as being a super hero.

So, what happens between six years old and twenty-one years old? What causes this rift between the unimaginable and the ordinary? Where do all the dreams go?

Well, we get older. We see the world and all it has to offer and we realize being great is hard. But, settling down is easy. We get hurt and feel pain and our enthusiasm hits the wall. And we don’t want to put ourselves out there and risk being hurt again. (Which is what it takes to be a true crime fighter like Batman.) So, we don’t, and our dreams get smaller, less risky.

But, what if we did start dreaming huge again? What if visions of greatness swirled around in our mind? What if we decided taking a risk and starting an adventure are better then settling?

What if the nation of Isreal didn’t dream of the return from exile? What if they gave up on the promise of a savior while God held his tongue for 430 years? Would they have survived?

Would we survive if we didn’t believe in the impossible? Would we keep going if we didn’t hope for something greater? Something more?

If we’re honest, something inside of us is itching right beneath the surface. Something is struggling to get out. We all feel it. We all long for it. Everyone wants to be great. Maybe we should start dreaming galaxy sized dreams.

Maybe we should all want to be Batman again…

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

-junglejon

We need people…

I’m currently writing a message for the Athen’s Church student ministry on what it means to live in authentic community and how we all need people. And when it hurts the most, sometimes the only way to make it through is for someone to carry us there…

-junglejon