Today, as I write this blog, we are in the season of the Winter Olympics. Athletes from all around the world have converged upon Italy to ski, ice skate, and bobsleigh. And let us not forget everyone’s favorite –  curling! Every athlete’s desire is to step up to the winner’s podium and be awarded a medal.

Let me tell you about John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzania. He did not win a medal. In fact, he came nowhere near the medal platform. But, in defeat and in pain, he came to represent something much more profound and enduring than many sportsmen achieve in illustrious careers.

The year was 1968 at the Summer Olympics in Mexico City. Tanzanian John Stephen Akhwari started the Olympic marathon with all the other runners but finished it alone and in last place. Several miles into the race, Akhwari encountered a pivotal moment that echoed far beyond the finish line. As he ran the race, a severe fall left him bruised and bleeding, and he was urged by the medical team to withdraw. But Akhwari pressed on through pain, leg cramps, and dehydration. He was determined to finish the race. As he crossed the finish line, well after all the other contestants, the stadium stood mostly empty, yet the few remaining witnesses cheered fervently for the battered athlete. His courage was captured by a television crew, and what he said echoed louder than any medal ceremony.

His resounding declaration, “My country did not send me five thousand miles just to start the race. They sent me to finish the race.”

Over my decades of serving God, I have watched many embark on the journey with God, only to falter and abandon their pursuits. Distractions, discouragement, fatigue, the allure of sin, painful situations, disappointments, and apathy can derail spiritual journeys.

I will be seventy-fives years old in September, and I want to finish the race strong. I want these remaining years of my life to demonstrate living a powerful Christian life amid pressure and adversity. I was not saved to just start the race but to finish the race.

A few years ago, I worked with a personal trainer who pushed me to become stronger. After a tiring time of weightlifting and sweating, I would be ready to quit. My trainer would say to me, “Come on, Barbara. Last set, best set.”  With determination, I would give it my all.

I do not know how much longer I have on this earth, but as I walk with God, I can hear Heaven saying, “Come on Barbara! Last set, best set.”

Recently, I have found myself listening to an old song over and over. The song was written by the late Nancy Harmon. I do not regret almost six decades of walking with God. It has been a joy and a privilege. Without hesitation, I say, “I’ve Come Too Far to Look Back.”

I’ve come too far to look back
My feet have walked through the valley,
I’ve climbed mountains, crossed rivers,
Desert places I’ve known.

But I’m nearing the home shore
The redeemed are rejoicing,
And heaven’s angels are singing,
I’ve come too far to look back.

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” – Hebrews 12:1-2 NKJV