Finish Well

Every student has a subject they hate in school. What was yours? Chemistry? Math? History? Phys Ed? Maybe it changed over the course of your school years. I might have to say it was French for me, but a close second was swimming in PE. Don’t get me wrong, I loved PE. It was my favorite class of the week all my years in school (and I’m even a PE teacher now!). But every year in the spring when we would begin our swimming unit I would groan with groanings too deep for words. Our school was fortunate to have a small four lane pool, but in the Nilgiri Mountains at 7,000ft elevation the outdoor pool was, without exception, ice cold.

During these weekly ice-baths students were placed in different levels according to their ability. By the end of the unit they would be tested with various challenges to see if they would advance to the next level. These challenges ranged from blowing bubbles with your face in the water or treading water in your clothes and shoes for ridiculous amounts of time to simulate a survival situation. At some point along the way I made it to level 4 where I and some of my best friends remained for many years. Us lazy rascals had realized the increasing difficulty of each level and so we opted to all fail the test every year and remain in level 4. Every year we would be asked to demonstrate the Butterfly stroke and every year we would “mess it up.” This strategy was only possible because we had a new swim teacher basically every year.

What made it more comical was that even though I failed the level 4 test I still qualified for the Butterfly during our school’s annual swimming gala. I suppose no teacher put two and two together about that. Now hear me. I was extremely slow at the Butterfly. I could do the stroke but was by no means a racer. So here I was, scrawny young teen, be-goggled and robed in my shark swim shorts standing on the starting block ready for my inevitable last place finish. “Clack!” went the wooden clapper and in we dove. The water’s frigid embrace forced the air from my lungs. “Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…” I swam two lengths of the pool at a glacial pace. First, second and third place all finished. I continued to slosh my way to the finish line listening to the pity cheers that filled the silence of a race already concluded. Finally, with two hands on the wall, I finished and shimmied and shivered my way out of the pool to find my towel and my beaming parents.

And that is how I won the race.

Not only did I win but I stood alone on the wooden podium as my Dad proudly placed the plastic gold medal around my neck. My competitors were all disqualified and I was the unlikely victor. Apparently I was the only one to complete the stroke correctly. When my mom had the photo of me on that podium printed she Sharpied on the front “Finish Well.” The loser became the winner because he finished well.

For years I thought I had lost that photograph, but in an answer to many prayers I found it tucked in with an emotion laden manila folder of boarding school letters. That little phrase and that memory has repeatedly resurfaced in my life. Finish well. My mom’s exhortation can be applied to a multitude of situations.

I know I am not the smartest man out there, and nor am I the most handsome, or most wise, or most successful or most accomplished or most wealthy (by our world’s standards of wealth at least). In fact, a realistic appraisal of my own abilities and talents shows I will never be any of those things. And in all likelihood neither will you. But will we finish well? Whatever the Lord has chosen to entrust us with or bless us with, are we being faithful with those resources to finish our race well? Clearly I was not the fastest swimmer in the pool but I finished the race, I did it right, and somehow I won.

Be a faithful steward of what you have, the talents you possess, the relationships you are in and the tasks you are assigned to. In our anonymity in this wide world you may never be recognized for your hard work or your sacrifices for your family or others. But there is only one person who needs to notice and He sees it all. In Him, your labor is not in vain. And by God’s grace we can all finish well and hear His lovingly, fatherly voice say to us “Well done good and faithful servant.” Life and work and family is hard but we can finish well knowing the labor is worth it. In the end is true and lasting peace and rest.

So keep on swimming and finish well my friends. I’ll see you in the race or at the finish line, but either way we’ll all be smiling.

Seth.

P.S. If you appreciate or enjoy the work I am doing at Marvelous India, feel free to say thank you by buying me a cup of chai!

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