It's Never Too Late to Pursue God's Best

The Promise of the Second Wind
by Bill Butterworth, Dean Merrill

Fresh Fuel for Running the Good Race.

At times we all feel as if we can't go on. Our dreams have faded or crashed. We wake up one day and realize we're just plodding through life. We've embraced life, but still we wonder what "might have been?" What happened to our hopes and plans for stronger relationships, greater career success, and lasting achievements? Why have we settled for what is instead of striving for what could be?

When these conditions or other dilemmas leave you feeling trapped, you are an ideal candidate for one of life's great surprises - a "second wind."

God wishes to give you such dramatic turnarounds in many areas of life. Just when you think you can't go on, you can tap into the wellspring of God's power and allow him to give your life a "jump start." With this newly discovered energy, you can stop your plodding and once again run the race of life with a spirit of exhilaration and joyous abandon.

Chapter 1

Huffing Toward 44th Street

By Bill:

Like about 67 million other people my age and weight, I'm going to get back in shape. I really am. Don't laugh; I'm serious about this.

In fact, I've begun a new daily routine. I happen to live near the ocean, and so at some point each day that I'm not traveling, I make my way over to the beach and ... ... I RUN.

Maybe that's a little strong. Actually, I run.

Of course, if you really press me, I'd have to say I run/walk.

Or, more accurately, I run/WALK.

Okay, I WALK.

But lately I've been making headway. I honestly have been moving from a brisk walk to a solid jog during more and more portions of my beach journey. I run close to the water, where the sand is wet and thus more solid. It's easier on my massive hulk than slogging through loose sand, and it's a natural progression from the first part of my trek.

The first thing I do when I hit the beach is search for the prettiest seashell I can find. I hold it in my hand; it helps me focus on the reasons I'm hoofing through the sand. It also helps me zero in on a particular prayer request that I bring before the Lord each day as I'm running.

One day it might be something about one of my five children. Another day it's a vocational issue. Sometimes I pray for my wife, or for a particular aspect of my own life. Holding on to that shell is the closest thing this lifelong Protestant will ever get to a set of rosary beads. Just the simple act of handling that shell holds my attention on the request.

Another reason I find a seashell is that it reminds me that despite the pain I feel during this beach run, there's still something of beauty to be taken from it. It's kind of "stop and smell the roses," only at the beach. When I get back home, I add the shell to a lovely glass container on my desk. As the glass fills up, I am further inspired to keep running each day.

Hitting the Wall

That's the fun part. Now let's get back to the rest of my reality:

I hate to run. Always have. Probably always will. I've struggled with extra poundage my entire life. I have no ambition to do a marathon, join a jogging club, or qualify as a poster boy for 0% body fat.

A typical journey finds me briskly walking the beach as far as a certain pier, about thirty-five to forty minutes away. I touch one of the pilings there, then turn back and head toward home, running as I go.

It's not pretty. I huff and puff. Passers-by give me a look that says, That guy could be making his final run! I pant. I sweat. The longer I run, the more pain I feel. First it's localized, in my legs and my lungs. Soon the pain invades my head, my arms, my stomach, my feet. If I concentrate hard enough, I think I can feel my eyebrows hurt.

Things start happening mentally. You'd better stop, my brain says to me, first subtly, then screaming. You'll feel so much better walking. It's more comfortable. It makes better sense.

When I first began this regimen, I would listen to my brain and quit running. But then I arrived home feeling deflated, discouraged and defeated.

So I made myself a goal that I would run just a little farther back down the beach each day. You know - baby steps.

That idea worked for a while, but I would hit the wall at a particular point that was brutal. The city even erected a monument, memorializing where my pain was most deeply felt ....

It was the lifeguard stand at 44th Street.

I grew to despise that lifeguard stand. The sight of its two "4"s painted next to each other on the side of the large wooden hut sickened me. I'm not sure I'm cut out for this, I started telling myself. Think back to all the fun of parking in the old recliner with a dozen donuts and a tub of ice cream.

My brain really knows how to get to my brain. It almost had its way with me. I almost quit. And then it happened.

One day as I kicked the pier piling and started running homeward, I got to the 44th Street lifeguard stand and - something inside urged me to push on. For some reason I listened to that voice and I kept running. As I continued, the strangest sensation swept through my system. I was suddenly re-energized, as if I had tapped into a new wellspring of power. Something inside of me felt like it had just been connected to a set of jumper cables. I was almost swept up into a Superman feeling, except that the silhouette of my body on the beach seemed to hint that maybe Superman should consider the Adkins Diet.

Anyway, with my newly discovered energy, I finished my run in a sprint of exhilaration. Triumphantly arriving at my finish line, I threw my fists into the air like Rocky Balboa atop the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Fortunately nobody on the beach knew me, and the rest just stared at me in silence.

But it didn't matter to me.

Something wonderful had happened.

I had experienced a second wind.

Copyright © 2003 by Bill Butterworth & Dean Merrill. Excerpted by permission of WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

About the Author

Bill Butterworth is a full-time speaker who has addressed groups at Disney, Daimler Chrysler, American Express, and megachurches such as Willow Creek Community Church and Saddleback Community Church. He is a recipient of the Hal Holbrook Award for speaking. Bill is a graduate of Florida Bible College, Dallas Theological Seminary, and Florida Atlantic University. He is the former Director of Counseling for Chuck Swindoll's Insight for Living ministry and is the author of several books, including When Life doesn't Turn Out Like You Planned. Bill lives with his wife in California.

Dean Merrill is the author or coauthor of more than 20 books, including the award-winning, best-selling trilogy with Jim Cymbala, Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire and its sequels, Fresh Faith and Fresh Power. He is the vice president of international publishing for the International Bible Society, a former president of the Evangelical Press Association, and a board member of the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association. A graduate of Chicago Bible College and Syracuse University, Dean lives with his wife in Colorado.