There is a tremendous difference between wanting to die and not being afraid to die. I don’t want to die. There are still mornings I want to wake up and see. There are still people I love. There are still words I want to write, conversations I want to have, places I would like to go, and things I would like to experience. I still have life in me.
But if my life ended tomorrow, I am at peace with the life I have already lived. And more importantly, I know where I am going. That realization has caused me to think increasingly about the Apostle Paul. Near the end of his life, Paul wrote words that have echoed through Christianity for nearly two thousand years:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” – 2 Timothy 4:7
There is something remarkable about those words. They aren’t desperate. Paul isn’t frantically making a list of everything he didn’t accomplish. He isn’t lamenting another city he could have visited, another church he could have planted, another person he could have reached, or another letter he could have written. He looks backward. And he is content.
Paul Had Already Lived Two Lives
We sometimes forget that Paul had a life before Paul. Before the Apostle Paul was spreading the Gospel, Saul was persecuting the very people who followed Jesus. Then came Damascus. His direction changed. His purpose changed. His understanding of God changed. And from that moment forward, Paul ran the race placed before him.
It wasn’t an easy race. He was beaten. Rejected. Imprisoned. Shipwrecked. Abandoned. Opposed. And ultimately, he found himself imprisoned again, knowing that his earthly life was approaching its conclusion. Yet Paul didn’t look backward and see failure. He saw faithfulness.
I fought the fight. I ran the race. I kept the faith.
Notice what isn’t there. I became wealthy. I became famous. Everybody loved me. Everything worked out. I accomplished every dream I ever had. None of those things were Paul’s measurement of a successful life. His measurement was faithfulness.
When You Finally Look Back
Most of my life has been spent looking forward. What’s next? What can I accomplish? What can I build? Who can I help? What can I write? Where can I go? There was always another objective somewhere beyond the horizon. And looking forward has an interesting effect on us. As long as we are looking toward the horizon, almost anything seems possible.
Then eventually you stop. You turn around. And for the first time, you really look at the road behind you. That’s something I’ve found myself doing lately. And what surprised me wasn’t regret. It was contentment. There are things I haven’t accomplished. There are dreams that haven’t happened. There are prayers that haven’t been answered the way I hoped they would be. There are things I still want. But none of that changes what has already happened.
I have lived. I have loved. I have served. I have taught. I have written. I have helped people. I have made mistakes. I have asked forgiveness. I have forgiven. I have fallen down. I have gotten back up. And through all of it, Jesus Christ has walked beside me. That is enough to look backward with gratitude.
Don’t Mourn the Unwritten Chapters
I have told some of those close to me something that may sound strange to some people. If something happens to me, don’t be sad about everything I didn’t get to do. Don’t measure my life by the chapters that were never written. Look at the ones that were. Because an unfinished list of dreams does not mean an unfinished life.
Almost everyone dies with something still on the list. Another trip. Another conversation. Another accomplishment. Another relationship. Another book. Another morning. If the measurement of a successful life is completing everything we ever wanted to do, then almost nobody finishes successfully. Paul gives us another measurement.
Did you fight the good fight? Did you run the race placed before you? Did you keep the faith?
Those questions matter much more.
I Am Not Afraid
Christianity doesn’t require us to desire death. Life is a gift. I want mine. I want tomorrow morning. I want another sunrise. I want another cup of coffee. I want another conversation. I want another opportunity to write something that reaches somebody who needed to read it. I want whatever days God still has for me. But Christianity gives us something extraordinary. It removes the necessity of being terrified when those days eventually run out. Paul continued:
“Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me…”
Paul could look backward with contentment because he could look forward with confidence. His race wasn’t ending in darkness. Someone was waiting for him. And that changes everything. I know Jesus. I know who has walked beside me through my life. And I know who waits for me whenever my race eventually ends. Maybe that’s why mortality feels different to me now than it once did. I don’t welcome death. I don’t seek it. I don’t want to hasten it. But I don’t fear it either.
If God gives me another thirty years, then there is more road to travel. I’ll walk it. If He gives me considerably less, then I am grateful for the road I’ve already traveled. Either way, the destination hasn’t changed.
The Question Isn’t How Much Time Is Left
None of us knows how much road remains. That may actually be a mercy. The important question isn’t: How much time do I have left? The question is: What am I doing with the time I’ve been given? Because eventually every one of us reaches the final stretch of the race. And when that moment comes, I don’t want my final thoughts consumed by everything I didn’t accomplish.
I want to be able to look backward with gratitude, forward with confidence, and upward with faith. And say what Paul said: I fought the good fight. I finished the race. I kept the faith. And whatever comes next,
I know Who is waiting for me.
