by Lindsay Wolfgang Mast
Synopsis: We welcome Lindsay Mast into the present mix of writers who provide insights for women. She begins by asking, “Can we run the race well on an uphill?”
I hate hills. There, I said it. Running on hills is just hard. Back when I was entering races regularly, I would lace up and train day after day on the hilly terrain near my home in Atlanta. However, when it came time to race, I often traveled to coastal or flat areas to score a better time. It’s just easier to run when there aren’t hills.
In March 2020, we all erased event after event from our calendars. Schools closed. Jobs evaporated. Celebrations ceased. It soon became apparent that something momentous was afoot, and Christians collectively entered a time where running our race meant covering a lot of hills. Some of us face bigger hills than others, but nearly all of us have had new challenges that were simply unthinkable just weeks before they happened.
Running and racing are a theme across the epistles as a comparison to serving the Lord while we are on this earth (1 Cor. 9; Heb. 12; Gal. 5; 2 Tim. 4). We Christians want to win the prize of heaven. So, how do we approach terrain that threatens to slow us down or change the race we thought we were running? We embrace it as an opportunity. Here are four ways to accomplish that goal.
Here’s the hard truth: as much as I disliked hills, I became a stronger runner when I trained on them. They work powerful muscles and expand aerobic capacity. Simply put: hills build endurance.
Yet, this shouldn’t be news to us! Scripture tells us that trials handled in a godly way produce strong spiritual muscles and endurance. Consider Romans 5:3-4, Hebrews 12:1-2, and James 1:2, 12. Clearly, not only does suffering (trust me, running a steep hill causes some suffering) build endurance, but it also produces character and even hope as well!
I was present at three baptisms while my congregation was unable to meet this spring. We stood awkwardly around afterward, giving unfulfilling air hugs from six feet away. Here’s what I know: I will never again take for granted the opportunity to hug a new Christian. I will count it a blessing every time I get to comfort the grieving, squeeze a hand in prayer, and gather for a birthday.
Choosing gratitude, always, is key to contentedness and perseverance (Phil. 4:6-8; Jas. 1:2), but difficult challenges force us to realize that we were already blessed. Even in the hardest of times, there are blessings and their benefits. We should be counting, remembering, anticipating, and praising God for them as we encounter and conquer various hills.
While we struggle through difficult times, God is still very much at work in His wonderful, mysterious ways. While we may not see or understand, He is doing things that we cannot (Isa. 55:8-11). Seeds we planted years ago, or ones we sowed unknowingly, may bear fruit when we are suddenly focused on other things, in ways we would never have expected. So take heart if you can’t finish teaching that Bible class, or influence people at work, or give as generously as before. Even when (especially when) we think that focusing on a spiritual hill is subtracting from something else, God often reminds us that, although He appreciates our efforts, He never really needed our help anyway.
God alone knows how big and hard is the hill on which you may be. He alone knows your capabilities, and He alone knows when you may need to slow down and catch your breath to keep going. Hills humble us. Through humility, we have the opportunity to accept His power, love, and grace to get through. Then, we can turn around and show that grace to others struggling up their own hill.
It’s impossible to predict all the hills that we will encounter as we run the race for God, but they will come. Our view of hills as opportunities to nurture perseverance can help as we start up each new one. To God be the glory. He will help us to the top as we put our faith in Him.
Author Bio: Lindsay has dozens of medals from marathons, half-marathons, and overnight relays, but is anxious for the only prize that matters, heaven. She left a career as a broadcast journalist to homeschool her three children, and now also does online marketing for small businesses. She and her husband, David, worship at the Embry Hills congregation in Atlanta, GA. She can be reached at lbwolfgangmast@gmail.com.