Some days are like a marathon. Those are my Fridays lately since I walk from midnight to 2am. And, okay, that walk is about 5 miles long and not a marathon of 26.2 miles. But it’s a long day.
At the end of the day today I got a call from my wife saying that some friends invited her and the kids to stay for supper and that I should come over.
But… but… I can see the finish line… you’re moving it! I can’t tell you the psychological damage that moving a finish line can have on a marathoner, I’m no psychologist.
But that’s what Jesus asked marathoning Christians back in the day. Yeah, I’m no theologian either. Or historian. But the point is to go the extra mile. Actually the point is you go the extra mile out of love. That’s a sharp point but a fitting one since love is action and often that action is a sacrificial one. Dang, I should be a theologian!
So I calmly told my wife, “Can you pretend you got the wrong number? And then try calling me again and you can’t get a hold of me?” Hey, I said that in a very joking way and then said I’d be over there.
I’ve often thought about coming out of retirement from actual marathoning — I ran two marathons back in the day – for realsies. Not that I miss running marathons but so I can run an extra mile and make a 27.2 sticker on my car. But there’s nary a day that goes by when I’m not faced with an opportunity to go an extra mile. My wife gives me these opportunities all the time!