A short story: I ran my first marathon in 2002. It was the Twin Cities marathon, accurately billed as the most beautiful urban marathon in the U.S. To prepare I read the book, “A Beginner’s Guide to Running a Marathon,” thoroughly following its instructions for practice runs. I was ready.
When the gun went off my legs came alive. I was moving. It was my first marathon so I was eager to show off my previously unseen training to a watching audience. But, I hadn’t practiced at this pace. The first time I felt anything in my legs was at about the 5-mile mark. It wasn’t much, just a twinge.
The bulk of the race carried on as planned. I ran fast. The scenery was memorable. And I enjoyed the support of the crowd. It was growing too, going five or six deep in certain places. I had to give them something to watch so I kept the pace up.
By mile 17 my jack-rabbit pace caught up with me. I had run this distance in my longest practice run and my legs were good. This day, though, they were not. My fast pace had caught up with me. I was cramping.
The rest of the marathon was a series of run, cramp, walk, cramp, stop, stretch, and repeat. Unfortunately, this happened during the last third of the race where crowds were the greatest in number, maybe 12-15 deep at points. By the last half mile, I was fed up with this ridiculous cycle. “Screw it!,” I said to myself. I was going to finish this race running. No more stopping. No more stretching. I turned past the cathedral and headed toward the Capital (fyi: that’s not me in the picture…I looked much more beat up). I was going for it! Somewhere after my resolute decision to run, but before the finish line of the race, I was stopped. I didn’t choose to stop. But, I was stopped. Whatever my legs were at the start of the race, they were the exact opposite at this point. I had no choice. I sat down on the curb less than a hundred yards from the finish unable to move. People yelled at me to finish the race. One guy offered to carry me. I couldn’t move.
Eventually, I completed the marathon. It was anti-climactic. Some time passed by and the attention of the fans got redirected to other runners. At this point, I did get up and manage to walk to the finish line. It did not parallel my epic start.
But, I had done it.
Many of you just experienced all this. In your ministry, there was a frenetic pace to the fall filled with a lot of buzz and large crowds. There may have been some early twinges. But, you kept trucking. For most, your ministry plan went almost as forecasted. Did you ever hit a wall? Maybe or maybe not. Regardless, you pushed through to the end. Congratulations! Rest up. Another race…er…year of ministry is just a few months away.
The season in between races is when I like to work ON my ministry. Working IN my ministry comes August through May. Working ON my ministry happens in June and July. Working ON my ministry means checking on these three things:
Strength of the leader: Did I hit a wall? Was there significant cramping? Did my personal preparation result in the intended results? What needs to change in my relationship with God, my family, and my staff? Is there anything I need to stop, start, or refine?
Strength of the vision: What are we doing? Why are we doing what we’re doing? What are our goals? What happens if our goals go unmet? What does “finishing the race” look like?
Strength of the ministry: While I ran the marathon solo, ministries consist of teams of runners. How’s the strength of the team? What’s missing? Is there anything that can be done in the next few months to set ourselves up to achieve our goals?
These are a few of the things I give attention to. My hope is that my effort working ON my ministry will be effective for when the time comes again to work IN my ministry. It’ll be time to start that marathon before you can say “CRAMP!”
QUESTIONS: What’s on your list for this summer? What are the things that you think about when working ON your ministry?
