The Olympic Games: Only One Gets the Prize

I love the Olympics.  I don't care what sport it is, if it's Olympics, I will watch it.  Skiing, fencing, paint drying.  Olympic gold is the ultimate prize in many sports, especially my beloved figure skating.  I love the games, but they can also be really sad: with only one winner, there sure are a lot of people who lose.  In the medal ceremonies I like watching the faces of those who won silver and bronze.  For some, a medal of any color is thrilling.  For others, anything short of gold is defeat.

The training for Olympic athletes (and aspiring Olympic athletes) amazes me.  They train every day, every year, year after year. Many of them relocate, changing cities, countries or continents in search of the perfect training situation.  Sometimes the entire family moves, while some athletes move far away from their families, even at a very young age.  Everything all day is focused on one goal: eventual Olympic gold.  It influences where they live, when they get up, what they eat, what they do with their time, what their money goes towards, what time they go to bed.  Gone is a normal school life, a normal family life, a normal social life.  Families sacrifice so much- all in hopes to qualify to compete. 

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 says that in a race, everyone runs but only one of them gets the prize.  That we are to run in such a way as to get that prize.  That everyone who competes goes into strict training in order to win a crown that will not last. But we, as Christians, run the race in order to get a crown that lasts forever.

Now, I am not much of a runner.  I only run when I feel like it: when the weather is nice, I'm not sore or tired, have the time, etc. It's aimless.  But when I have a goal, like a race to train for, a prize so to speak?  Every day. Rain or shine. 

So it makes me wonder.  Do I live my life and pursue Christ with every minute of every day?  Does my pursuit of God change when I get up in the morning? When I eat and what I eat?  What I do all day?  What I spend money on?  Where I live?  What time I go to bed?  Is my faith something that I only practice when conditions are perfect, or is it rain or shine? 

So I strive to run in such a way as to get the prize.  Live to "shave milliseconds off my time". Choreograph each movement, from fingers to toes.  Wake every day to train for a crown of righteousness.  One that does not spoil, does not fade from media attention, does not collect dust on a shelf.  Run for the crown that lasts.