Seize the Day

Psalm 139 … He knows me and fashioned me for His purposes. He has numbered my days.

This scripture has always been an encouragement to me. But lately, it saddens me. Maybe it’s that I’m at a place where I’m starting to seriously measure the impact of my life in this world and how I’ve used what He’s given me. It’s also that I recognize that I’m not guaranteed the next heartbeat.



Francis Chan points this out in a vivid example from his book “Crazy Love.”

“Stan was giving a eulogy at a memorial service when he decided to share the gospel. At the end of his message, Stan told the mourners ‘You never know when God is going to take your life. At that moment, there’s nothing you can do about it. Are you ready?’ Then Stan sat down, fell over and died. His wife and sons tried to resuscitate him, but there was nothing they could do — just as Stan had said a few minutes earlier.”

Life is tenuous. A vapor.

In Matthew 25, Jesus tells the parable of the talents, and how one servant, rather than invest his share, dug a hole and put it in the ground until his master’s return. The servant’s poor stewardship — a wasted opportunity — was met with stern retribution, while the other faithful servants were given charge of even greater things.

During my junior year of high school, I became very active in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA). It was a time, a couple years after my salvation, when my faith was at an apex and fruit was everywhere.

Toward the end of the school session we were electing officers for our senior year. The standing FCA president, a girl I had great respect for because of her faith, opened the floor to nominations and immediately put me up as her replacement. I was both humbled and petrified. Our FCA group was some 250 students, and the thought of standing in front of them to speak — let alone present the Gospel — was as welcome to me as climbing naked up the school flag pole.

When my nomination was “seconded,” I quickly pulled my friend aside and told her I couldn’t accept it. After a long tug-of-war between her encouragements and my rationalizations (excuses), she relented. The look of disappointment on her face is something I will never forget. I had taken a God-given opportunity and buried it in the dirt of self doubt and previous failure. And, it wouldn’t be the last time.

Scottish runner, Eric Liddell, is a hero of mine. I knew nothing of him until his life was portrayed in the film Chariots of Fire. The son of missionaries, Liddell had always had a clear calling to share the gospel. But the Lord had also entrusted Him with world-class speed and tremendous endurance. His sister, Jenny, who helped him run the Scottish mission, scolded Eric for neglecting the Lord’s work for races and training. But Liddell clearly recognized the talents he was endowed with, telling Jenny, “God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure. To give it up would be to hold Him in contempt; to win is to honor Him.”

In the 1924 Olympics, Liddell made headlines when he refused to run on the Sabbath in a Sunday qualifier for his specialty, the 100 meters. Being disqualified from that event, he ran the 400 meters instead, breaking the world record. While he was in the starting blocks for that race, a member of the American team slipped a piece of paper in his hand that said "Those who honor me, I will honor." [I Sam. 2:30]



On that same Great Britain Olympic team was Cambridge University track star Harold Abrahams. Also a sprinter, Abrahams had been beaten by Liddell in the 100-meter dash at an earlier contest. Losing was a sensation Abrahams had never experienced before. As he sat sulking in the stands after the race, his girlfriend, Sybil, admonished him to let it go and move on.

"If I can’t win, I won’t run," he said. "If you don’t run, you can’t win," Sybil replied.

I Corinthians 9:24 says we all run. None of us are spectators. The longer we run, the older we get, the more likely we are to experience failure and want to quit. I'm thankful that our race isn't a sprint, but a marathon. And though there are regretful consequences for wasted talents and squandered opportunities, there are more miles ahead (though only given by the grace of God).

" ... 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. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." [Hebrews 12: 1-3]