My legs were tired and lungs were burning. This race called living righteously was too hard. I peered down the race track and couldn’t even see the finish line. I knew it was there somewhere, but it was obscured by the hazy fog of unbelief. I wasn’t sure anymore that it even existed. I no longer felt its beckoning call.
How could I go on when my whole body screamed in pain and demons whispered in my ear? Looking down, I saw my feet slamming against the rocky path. One more step. Just one more.
Looking down was my mistake. I didn’t see the rock ahead of me. Like a film in slow motion, I saw my toe catch, my arms flailing as my body crumpled to the dusty ground.
I could not go on. I was done. Completely and totally finished. This race wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t even remember the prize anymore. Failure tasted like the dust in my mouth. My broken spirit couldn’t rise. I simply didn’t have it in me.
Why had God allowed me to fall? Tears slipped down my dusty cheeks as I realized even if I tried, I couldn’t get up on my own.
Then I heard His whisper, “I’ve allowed you to fail so you can feel the redemption of grace.”
Without failure, there would be no redemption. All need for God’s grace would be gone. Without falling, we would never know the feeling of being lifted up and set aright once more. There would be no need for forgiveness and mercy.
If God had not allowed mankind to fall, there would have been no blood spilled at Calvary. Without failing, the hope of heaven would not seem as bright or the taste of grace so sweet. We would not need our fellow runners, for they are God’s human hands that lift us up to run once more.
And as those gentle hands surrounded me, lifting me up, I heard Him answer my question. “I have allowed you to fall because I love you, child. For now you have seen with your eyes and felt in your heart, the beauty of redemption.”
Then I began the race once more.