2 Timothy was a relatively short letter, but it felt so weighty. Maybe it’s because it’s the last one he wrote, or maybe it’s because he’s writing from prison (again). And it seems that Paul wasn’t expecting things to turn out well for him. I kept wondering what would be going on to make someone describe themselves as being poured out as a drink offering. It’s all very sobering.
Reflecting on this letter turned into sort of a meta-reflection on all of the others he wrote. And then, just thinking about all of Paul’s prison time, I started thinking of it as his down time—his reflection time. I mean, his life after meeting Jesus has been presented as a series of struggles, hardships, and continual working and pushing forward.
When he’s in prison and finds himself in long stretches of stillness, solitude, and silence, what did he reflect on? I wondered if Paul ever wondered what was going on and how he ended up where he was in life.
Maybe I’m just projecting my own meta-reflections on it all. But also, I think that’s ok too. It is a journey of an entire lifetime, not just a day.
In the end, it’s how we end, right?
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
—2 Timothy 4:7 (ESV)
That’s what I’ve been meditating on, and probably will for a while. It seems to me that to look back on your life and be able to say that you fought well, finished, and abided to the end, you would also have to be looking back on each day along the way.
Am I fighting the good fight today?
Am I running the race and keeping the faith, today?
Am I abiding in Jesus today, each day, day by day, so that one day I can also say that I fought well, finished running, and held on to my life with God?
