Stewardship of Life · Stewardship Faith-Spiritual Growth
Poured Out: Acts 20 and 2 Timothy 4 on Spending Your Life and Finishing the Task
Qunetin Robinson
One day your work will end, whether you are ready or not. Here is what Acts 20 and 2 Timothy 4 teach about spending your life on the task God gave you, and being able to say you finished it.
Two Goodbyes
The apostle Paul said goodbye twice in a way that should make all of us stop. The first time he was standing on a beach at Miletus with a group of church elders from Ephesus, on his way to a city where he expected trouble. The second time he was in a Roman prison, years later, writing to a younger man he loved, and this time he knew the end was close.
Both times he talked about a race. Both times he spoke of a task. And he never once talked about what he would do with the time he had left for himself.
The Question Under the Story
Most of us plan carefully for the end of our working years. We ask how much we will need and where we will live. Far fewer of us ask the harder question. What did God give me to do, and will I be able to say I finished it?
A life can be full and still go unfinished. It can be filled with good things and leave the one assignment undone. Paul shows us another way to live, and he shows us how it looks when the money, the strength and the crowd are gone.
Lesson One: One Aim
When Paul told the elders where he was going, he did not hide what was waiting. "And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there. I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me." (Acts 20:22-23, NIV).
Most of us would hear that warning and start looking for a way around it. Paul had already settled the question, and his answer is the center of this post. "However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace." (Acts 20:24, NIV).
Be careful with the words worth nothing. Paul is not saying that he hates himself or that a human life has no value. He knew exactly how much God had paid for him. He means that his own survival, comfort and reputation were not the things he was protecting. Something else held that place.
Look at how narrow the sentence is. My only aim. Paul had plans, friends, opinions and a great many skills, but he had one aim, and everything else served it or got out of its way.
This is the first stewardship of a life. A person with one aim can lose a lot and still be on course. A person with twelve competing aims can gain a lot and be lost. Ask what you would not give up if everything else had to go. Then look at your calendar and your bank statement, and see whether they agree with your answer.
Lesson Two: A Task You Did Not Invent
Read that verse again and notice who wrote the job description. Paul does not say the task he chose, or the dream he had, or the goal he set for himself. He says the task the Lord Jesus has given me.
That changes the whole shape of a life. If I invented my purpose, then I am the one who has to prove it mattered. If I received it, then I only have to be faithful to the One who gave it. The pressure of building a name for myself is replaced by the plain duty of a steward, who holds what belongs to someone else.
The book of Hebrews says the same thing about all of us. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:1-2, NIV). The race is marked out. You did not draw the course, and you cannot run someone else's.
That should free you from comparing. Paul's task was to carry the gospel across the Roman world. Yours may be raising three children, keeping honest books, or caring for a parent who no longer knows your name. The size of the assignment was never yours to set.
Scripture sums up another man's life in the same terms. "Now when David had served God's purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; he was buried with his ancestors and his body decayed." (Acts 13:36, NIV). David was a king and a poet, yet the verse honors him for serving God's purpose in his own generation. That is all any of us can do. We get one generation, and a purpose we were handed.
Lesson Three: Let Go of the People
Paul could tell the elders he had finished his work among them because he had not left the hard parts out. "Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you. For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God." (Acts 20:26-27, NIV).
The whole will of God includes the parts that cost you friends. Finishing a task means more than staying busy until the end. It means that the difficult conversation was had, the warning was given, and the truth was told, so that you can leave with a clear conscience.
Then Paul did something every leader finds painful. He let go. "Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified." (Acts 20:32, NIV).
He had spent three years with these people. He knew wolves were coming. Even so, he did not cancel the trip, and he did not tell them they could not manage without him. He handed them to God, who had owned them all along, and to the word, which would still be there after he was gone.
The scene ends in tears. "When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship." (Acts 20:36-38, NIV).
A steward's love is real, and the goodbye hurts. But people who are entrusted to you are never yours to keep. One mark of a finished task is that the work can go on without you.
Lesson Four: Poured Out
Years pass. Paul is in chains, and he writes to Timothy in language he has saved for the end. "For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near." (2 Timothy 4:6, NIV).
The drink offering comes from Israel's worship. "The accompanying drink offering is to be a quarter of a hin of fermented drink with each lamb. Pour out the drink offering to the Lord at the sanctuary." (Numbers 28:7, NIV). It was poured out, and nothing came back. You could not collect it again once it left the cup.
Paul had used the picture before, about his life among the Philippians. "But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you." (Philippians 2:17, NIV). He does not sound like a victim. He sees the last of his life being spent as an act of worship, and he says he is glad.
He could have described this as something being taken from him. He calls it an offering instead, because he had given it long before Rome came for it.
The word departure is worth a moment too. The Greek word appears only here in the New Testament, and it carries the idea of a loosing, as when a ship is released from its moorings. So Paul looks at his execution and thinks of a boat being untied.
Here is the great difference between a spent life and a wasted one. Everyone's life runs out. The question is what it was poured on. Whatever you save for yourself will still be taken from you. What you pour out for God is the only part of your life you get to keep.
Lesson Five: The Last Lap Can Be Lonely
We like to picture the end of a faithful life with a full room and warm speeches. Paul's looked different. "Do your best to come to me quickly, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia." (2 Timothy 4:9-10, NIV).
Then comes a line that hurts. "Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful to me in my ministry." (2 Timothy 4:11, NIV). Paul once refused to take Mark on a journey, because Mark had turned back from an earlier one (Acts 15:37-38). At the very end he is asking for him by name. Some repair work gets done late, and it is still worth doing.
He is cold as well, and he misses his books. "When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments." (2 Timothy 4:13, NIV). The man who carried the gospel across an empire needs a coat.
And he had stood in court alone. "At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth." (2 Timothy 4:16-17, NIV).
Nobody should expect the final stretch to be easy because the earlier miles were faithful. Your strength may fade, your friends may drift, your work may be forgotten by the people who benefited from it. If you are running for applause, the last lap will break you. Paul could keep going because the Lord stood at his side when no one else did.
Lesson Six: Not Only to Me
Paul's summary of his life takes one verse. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." (2 Timothy 4:7, NIV).
He does not say he won every argument, planted every church or fixed every problem. Several of his churches were in serious trouble when he wrote this. He says the fight was fought, the race was finished, and the faith was kept. Each phrase measures faithfulness, not results.
Then he looks past the prison. "Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." (2 Timothy 4:8, NIV).
Rome was about to pass one verdict on Paul. He was waiting for another. An earthly judge could take his head, but the righteous Judge had a crown in store.
Do not miss the turn in the sentence. And not only to me. An apostle might have kept that crown for apostles. Instead he opens it to everyone who has longed for the Lord's appearing, which means the grandmother and the plumber and the woman who never left her town.
Jesus told the same story about ordinary faithfulness. "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" (Matthew 25:21, NIV).
What sustains a person to the end is longing. Paul wanted to see Jesus more than he wanted to stay. If the person you most want to meet is on the other side of the finish line, you will run differently on this side of it.
For Business Leaders: Decide What Finished Looks Like
Many leaders know how to start and few plan how to end. They hold on too long, or they leave without preparing anyone, and either way the people and the mission pay for it. A steward knows the business was entrusted to him for a season, and he plans for the day it passes to someone else.
Define the finish now, while you have the strength. What must be true of your people, your books and your name on the day you hand over the keys?
"The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride." (Ecclesiastes 7:8, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Write one page this week titled "What Finished Looks Like." Name the person you are preparing to take your place, even if that day is years off, and put a first conversation with them on your calendar.
For Community Leaders: Someone Else Is Building on It
Paul left Ephesus knowing that others would carry the work on. Good leaders of churches and nonprofits build with that in mind. If the ministry cannot survive your absence, you have built something around yourself. Teach what you know, give others the microphone, and let them try while you are close enough to help.
"By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should build with care." (1 Corinthians 3:10, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Choose one thing only you know how to do in your ministry. Write it down, teach it to someone this month, and then step back and let them lead it the next time.
For Home Leaders: Your Legacy Sits at the Table
The most lasting work many of us will ever do is in the people who eat at our table. A will can pass on property. It cannot pass on a faith your children never saw you practice. Your family needs to hear the whole truth from you while you can still say it, including the apology and the blessing you have been putting off.
"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." (3 John 1:4, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Think of the one conversation you would regret not having with someone in your family. Have it this week. Then write a short letter to each child or grandchild telling them what you have seen God do in your life.
For the Everyday Believer: No Race Is Too Small
You may think all this talk of a task is for people with titles. It is not. If you belong to Christ, your life has been given a purpose, and it is probably close at hand. The neighbor you pray for, the coworker you treat with honor, and the sickness you bear with patience are all part of your race. You will not be asked why you were not Paul.
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Finish this sentence in writing: "The task the Lord has given me in this season is ___." Show it to one trusted friend, and do one thing about it before the week ends.
The One Who Finished First
Paul could speak about finishing because Someone had finished before him. On the night before the cross, Jesus prayed, "I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do." (John 17:4, NIV). The next day the work was done. "When he had received the drink, Jesus said, 'It is finished.' With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." (John 19:30, NIV).
The verb Paul uses for finishing the race comes from the same word Jesus used from the cross. Yet the two are not the same kind of finish. Paul completed an assignment. Jesus completed our salvation. Paul's crown is called the crown of righteousness, and any righteousness Paul had came from Jesus first.
So do not run in order to earn your place. Your place was won. Run because you belong to the One who finished, and spend what you have been given until there is nothing left in the cup.
Questions for Reflection
- If someone summed up my life today, what would they say my one aim has been?
- What task has the Lord given me in this season, and how did I receive it?
- Is there a hard truth or a hard conversation I have been leaving out of my work?
- Who or what am I holding on to that I need to commit to God?
- Where is my life being poured out, and is it being poured on what matters?
- If my last lap turned out to be lonely, what would keep me running?
Closing Prayer
Father, I confess that I have often protected my life when you asked me to spend it. Forgive me for the aims I chose over the task you gave me. Thank you for Jesus, who finished the work you gave Him and gave up His spirit for me. Show me plainly what you have given me to do in this generation. Give me courage to speak the whole truth, and open hands to let go of the people and the work that were always yours. When my strength fades and my friends are few, stand at my side. Pour me out on what lasts. Make me long for the day I see your Son, and let me finish the race. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Next
Marcus Tolliver had cut hair on Juniper Street for thirty-eight years, in a two-chair shop with a cracked linoleum floor. Any boy with a job interview got a free cut, and Marcus would talk to him about Jesus the whole time, whether the boy wanted it or not. He kept their names in a green ledger, and he prayed down the list on Sunday nights.
In February a doctor told him he had about eight months.
A week later a man from a chain of barbershops offered him good money for the corner. His sister wanted him to take it and move to Tucson, where it was warm. "You've earned a rest," she said. Everyone said so.
Edna Rawlins had kept his books for twenty-six years. She was eighty-one, and she came in on Thursdays with her reading glasses on a chain. She looked at the offer and then at him.
"What's left?" she said.
"What do you mean, what's left?"
"You've been at something for thirty-eight years, Marcus. Is it done?"
He didn't sell. He had an apprentice, Lyle Bonner, twenty-six years old, who could fade a head better than he could and who was terrified of customers. Marcus started putting Lyle in the first chair. He made him open up. He made him pray with the boys, out loud, and Lyle stumbled through it, red in the ears. In June, Marcus signed the shop over to him for a dollar, and Edna notarized it with her mouth tight.
By August he weighed a hundred and thirty pounds. Some of the old regulars stopped coming. It wasn't cruelty. They didn't know what to say to a man who looked like that, so they found another barber. He sat in the second chair most afternoons with a blanket over his knees, and some days nobody spoke to him but Lyle.
Edna came on a Thursday and put the green ledger in his lap. "There's a name you skip," she said.
He didn't answer. On the first page, in his own hand, was the name of his son. Cedric had left at nineteen after a fight neither of them could quite remember, and that was twenty-two years ago. Marcus had prayed for that name every Sunday. He had told a thousand boys about the mercy of God. He had never once picked up the phone and said he was sorry.
"I don't have the strength for that," he said.
"You have the strength for exactly that," said Edna. "You don't have the strength for anything else."
Cedric drove down from Dayton in September. It did not go the way it goes in the movies. He stood in the doorway a long time with his keys in his hand. Marcus said what he had to say, all of it, and it took him twenty minutes because he kept having to rest. Cedric cried a little and didn't say much. But at the end of it he came in, sat down in the chair, and let his father take a pair of clippers to the back of his neck, with Lyle holding Marcus up by the elbow.
Marcus died the second week of October. He had one instruction for the funeral, and it was written on an index card in the register. Lyle read it at the kitchen table with Edna across from him, and he laughed, and then he put his face in his hands.
The service was on a Friday. On Saturday at seven, Lyle unlocked the door on Juniper Street, because the card said to, and because a boy named Jaylen had an interview at the hospital on Monday.
Edna was already in the second chair with the green ledger open. She had written in two new names. She had given Lyle the pen for the third.
Jaylen stood in the doorway holding his cap. Lyle turned the first chair around, brushed off the seat and took a breath.
"Next," he said.
Go Deeper
Ready to put this teaching into practice? Poured Out is a guided workbook drawn from Psalm 139, Psalm 39, Romans 12, Acts 20 and 2 Timothy 4. Work through four movements at your own pace and finish with one page you build for yourself: Your Finish Line.
One day your work will end, whether you are ready or not. Here is what Acts 20 and 2 Timothy 4 teach about spending your life on the task God gave you, and being able to say you finished it.
Two Goodbyes
The apostle Paul said goodbye twice in a way that should make all of us stop. The first time he was standing on a beach at Miletus with a group of church elders from Ephesus, on his way to a city where he expected trouble. The second time he was in a Roman prison, years later, writing to a younger man he loved, and this time he knew the end was close.
Both times he talked about a race. Both times he spoke of a task. And he never once talked about what he would do with the time he had left for himself.
The Question Under the Story
Most of us plan carefully for the end of our working years. We ask how much we will need and where we will live. Far fewer of us ask the harder question. What did God give me to do, and will I be able to say I finished it?
A life can be full and still go unfinished. It can be filled with good things and leave the one assignment undone. Paul shows us another way to live, and he shows us how it looks when the money, the strength and the crowd are gone.
Lesson One: One Aim
When Paul told the elders where he was going, he did not hide what was waiting. "And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there. I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me." (Acts 20:22-23, NIV).
Most of us would hear that warning and start looking for a way around it. Paul had already settled the question, and his answer is the center of this post. "However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace." (Acts 20:24, NIV).
Be careful with the words worth nothing. Paul is not saying that he hates himself or that a human life has no value. He knew exactly how much God had paid for him. He means that his own survival, comfort and reputation were not the things he was protecting. Something else held that place.
Look at how narrow the sentence is. My only aim. Paul had plans, friends, opinions and a great many skills, but he had one aim, and everything else served it or got out of its way.
This is the first stewardship of a life. A person with one aim can lose a lot and still be on course. A person with twelve competing aims can gain a lot and be lost. Ask what you would not give up if everything else had to go. Then look at your calendar and your bank statement, and see whether they agree with your answer.
Lesson Two: A Task You Did Not Invent
Read that verse again and notice who wrote the job description. Paul does not say the task he chose, or the dream he had, or the goal he set for himself. He says the task the Lord Jesus has given me.
That changes the whole shape of a life. If I invented my purpose, then I am the one who has to prove it mattered. If I received it, then I only have to be faithful to the One who gave it. The pressure of building a name for myself is replaced by the plain duty of a steward, who holds what belongs to someone else.
The book of Hebrews says the same thing about all of us. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:1-2, NIV). The race is marked out. You did not draw the course, and you cannot run someone else's.
That should free you from comparing. Paul's task was to carry the gospel across the Roman world. Yours may be raising three children, keeping honest books, or caring for a parent who no longer knows your name. The size of the assignment was never yours to set.
Scripture sums up another man's life in the same terms. "Now when David had served God's purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; he was buried with his ancestors and his body decayed." (Acts 13:36, NIV). David was a king and a poet, yet the verse honors him for serving God's purpose in his own generation. That is all any of us can do. We get one generation, and a purpose we were handed.
Lesson Three: Let Go of the People
Paul could tell the elders he had finished his work among them because he had not left the hard parts out. "Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you. For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God." (Acts 20:26-27, NIV).
The whole will of God includes the parts that cost you friends. Finishing a task means more than staying busy until the end. It means that the difficult conversation was had, the warning was given, and the truth was told, so that you can leave with a clear conscience.
Then Paul did something every leader finds painful. He let go. "Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified." (Acts 20:32, NIV).
He had spent three years with these people. He knew wolves were coming. Even so, he did not cancel the trip, and he did not tell them they could not manage without him. He handed them to God, who had owned them all along, and to the word, which would still be there after he was gone.
The scene ends in tears. "When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship." (Acts 20:36-38, NIV).
A steward's love is real, and the goodbye hurts. But people who are entrusted to you are never yours to keep. One mark of a finished task is that the work can go on without you.
Lesson Four: Poured Out
Years pass. Paul is in chains, and he writes to Timothy in language he has saved for the end. "For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near." (2 Timothy 4:6, NIV).
The drink offering comes from Israel's worship. "The accompanying drink offering is to be a quarter of a hin of fermented drink with each lamb. Pour out the drink offering to the Lord at the sanctuary." (Numbers 28:7, NIV). It was poured out, and nothing came back. You could not collect it again once it left the cup.
Paul had used the picture before, about his life among the Philippians. "But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you." (Philippians 2:17, NIV). He does not sound like a victim. He sees the last of his life being spent as an act of worship, and he says he is glad.
He could have described this as something being taken from him. He calls it an offering instead, because he had given it long before Rome came for it.
The word departure is worth a moment too. The Greek word appears only here in the New Testament, and it carries the idea of a loosing, as when a ship is released from its moorings. So Paul looks at his execution and thinks of a boat being untied.
Here is the great difference between a spent life and a wasted one. Everyone's life runs out. The question is what it was poured on. Whatever you save for yourself will still be taken from you. What you pour out for God is the only part of your life you get to keep.
Lesson Five: The Last Lap Can Be Lonely
We like to picture the end of a faithful life with a full room and warm speeches. Paul's looked different. "Do your best to come to me quickly, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia." (2 Timothy 4:9-10, NIV).
Then comes a line that hurts. "Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful to me in my ministry." (2 Timothy 4:11, NIV). Paul once refused to take Mark on a journey, because Mark had turned back from an earlier one (Acts 15:37-38). At the very end he is asking for him by name. Some repair work gets done late, and it is still worth doing.
He is cold as well, and he misses his books. "When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments." (2 Timothy 4:13, NIV). The man who carried the gospel across an empire needs a coat.
And he had stood in court alone. "At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth." (2 Timothy 4:16-17, NIV).
Nobody should expect the final stretch to be easy because the earlier miles were faithful. Your strength may fade, your friends may drift, your work may be forgotten by the people who benefited from it. If you are running for applause, the last lap will break you. Paul could keep going because the Lord stood at his side when no one else did.
Lesson Six: Not Only to Me
Paul's summary of his life takes one verse. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." (2 Timothy 4:7, NIV).
He does not say he won every argument, planted every church or fixed every problem. Several of his churches were in serious trouble when he wrote this. He says the fight was fought, the race was finished, and the faith was kept. Each phrase measures faithfulness, not results.
Then he looks past the prison. "Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." (2 Timothy 4:8, NIV).
Rome was about to pass one verdict on Paul. He was waiting for another. An earthly judge could take his head, but the righteous Judge had a crown in store.
Do not miss the turn in the sentence. And not only to me. An apostle might have kept that crown for apostles. Instead he opens it to everyone who has longed for the Lord's appearing, which means the grandmother and the plumber and the woman who never left her town.
Jesus told the same story about ordinary faithfulness. "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" (Matthew 25:21, NIV).
What sustains a person to the end is longing. Paul wanted to see Jesus more than he wanted to stay. If the person you most want to meet is on the other side of the finish line, you will run differently on this side of it.
For Business Leaders: Decide What Finished Looks Like
Many leaders know how to start and few plan how to end. They hold on too long, or they leave without preparing anyone, and either way the people and the mission pay for it. A steward knows the business was entrusted to him for a season, and he plans for the day it passes to someone else.
Define the finish now, while you have the strength. What must be true of your people, your books and your name on the day you hand over the keys?
"The end of a matter is better than its beginning, and patience is better than pride." (Ecclesiastes 7:8, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Write one page this week titled "What Finished Looks Like." Name the person you are preparing to take your place, even if that day is years off, and put a first conversation with them on your calendar.
For Community Leaders: Someone Else Is Building on It
Paul left Ephesus knowing that others would carry the work on. Good leaders of churches and nonprofits build with that in mind. If the ministry cannot survive your absence, you have built something around yourself. Teach what you know, give others the microphone, and let them try while you are close enough to help.
"By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should build with care." (1 Corinthians 3:10, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Choose one thing only you know how to do in your ministry. Write it down, teach it to someone this month, and then step back and let them lead it the next time.
For Home Leaders: Your Legacy Sits at the Table
The most lasting work many of us will ever do is in the people who eat at our table. A will can pass on property. It cannot pass on a faith your children never saw you practice. Your family needs to hear the whole truth from you while you can still say it, including the apology and the blessing you have been putting off.
"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." (3 John 1:4, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Think of the one conversation you would regret not having with someone in your family. Have it this week. Then write a short letter to each child or grandchild telling them what you have seen God do in your life.
For the Everyday Believer: No Race Is Too Small
You may think all this talk of a task is for people with titles. It is not. If you belong to Christ, your life has been given a purpose, and it is probably close at hand. The neighbor you pray for, the coworker you treat with honor, and the sickness you bear with patience are all part of your race. You will not be asked why you were not Paul.
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21, NIV).
Your Obedience Step
Finish this sentence in writing: "The task the Lord has given me in this season is ___." Show it to one trusted friend, and do one thing about it before the week ends.
The One Who Finished First
Paul could speak about finishing because Someone had finished before him. On the night before the cross, Jesus prayed, "I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do." (John 17:4, NIV). The next day the work was done. "When he had received the drink, Jesus said, 'It is finished.' With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." (John 19:30, NIV).
The verb Paul uses for finishing the race comes from the same word Jesus used from the cross. Yet the two are not the same kind of finish. Paul completed an assignment. Jesus completed our salvation. Paul's crown is called the crown of righteousness, and any righteousness Paul had came from Jesus first.
So do not run in order to earn your place. Your place was won. Run because you belong to the One who finished, and spend what you have been given until there is nothing left in the cup.
Questions for Reflection
- If someone summed up my life today, what would they say my one aim has been?
- What task has the Lord given me in this season, and how did I receive it?
- Is there a hard truth or a hard conversation I have been leaving out of my work?
- Who or what am I holding on to that I need to commit to God?
- Where is my life being poured out, and is it being poured on what matters?
- If my last lap turned out to be lonely, what would keep me running?
Closing Prayer
Father, I confess that I have often protected my life when you asked me to spend it. Forgive me for the aims I chose over the task you gave me. Thank you for Jesus, who finished the work you gave Him and gave up His spirit for me. Show me plainly what you have given me to do in this generation. Give me courage to speak the whole truth, and open hands to let go of the people and the work that were always yours. When my strength fades and my friends are few, stand at my side. Pour me out on what lasts. Make me long for the day I see your Son, and let me finish the race. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Next
Marcus Tolliver had cut hair on Juniper Street for thirty-eight years, in a two-chair shop with a cracked linoleum floor. Any boy with a job interview got a free cut, and Marcus would talk to him about Jesus the whole time, whether the boy wanted it or not. He kept their names in a green ledger, and he prayed down the list on Sunday nights.
In February a doctor told him he had about eight months.
A week later a man from a chain of barbershops offered him good money for the corner. His sister wanted him to take it and move to Tucson, where it was warm. "You've earned a rest," she said. Everyone said so.
Edna Rawlins had kept his books for twenty-six years. She was eighty-one, and she came in on Thursdays with her reading glasses on a chain. She looked at the offer and then at him.
"What's left?" she said.
"What do you mean, what's left?"
"You've been at something for thirty-eight years, Marcus. Is it done?"
He didn't sell. He had an apprentice, Lyle Bonner, twenty-six years old, who could fade a head better than he could and who was terrified of customers. Marcus started putting Lyle in the first chair. He made him open up. He made him pray with the boys, out loud, and Lyle stumbled through it, red in the ears. In June, Marcus signed the shop over to him for a dollar, and Edna notarized it with her mouth tight.
By August he weighed a hundred and thirty pounds. Some of the old regulars stopped coming. It wasn't cruelty. They didn't know what to say to a man who looked like that, so they found another barber. He sat in the second chair most afternoons with a blanket over his knees, and some days nobody spoke to him but Lyle.
Edna came on a Thursday and put the green ledger in his lap. "There's a name you skip," she said.
He didn't answer. On the first page, in his own hand, was the name of his son. Cedric had left at nineteen after a fight neither of them could quite remember, and that was twenty-two years ago. Marcus had prayed for that name every Sunday. He had told a thousand boys about the mercy of God. He had never once picked up the phone and said he was sorry.
"I don't have the strength for that," he said.
"You have the strength for exactly that," said Edna. "You don't have the strength for anything else."
Cedric drove down from Dayton in September. It did not go the way it goes in the movies. He stood in the doorway a long time with his keys in his hand. Marcus said what he had to say, all of it, and it took him twenty minutes because he kept having to rest. Cedric cried a little and didn't say much. But at the end of it he came in, sat down in the chair, and let his father take a pair of clippers to the back of his neck, with Lyle holding Marcus up by the elbow.
Marcus died the second week of October. He had one instruction for the funeral, and it was written on an index card in the register. Lyle read it at the kitchen table with Edna across from him, and he laughed, and then he put his face in his hands.
The service was on a Friday. On Saturday at seven, Lyle unlocked the door on Juniper Street, because the card said to, and because a boy named Jaylen had an interview at the hospital on Monday.
Edna was already in the second chair with the green ledger open. She had written in two new names. She had given Lyle the pen for the third.
Jaylen stood in the doorway holding his cap. Lyle turned the first chair around, brushed off the seat and took a breath.
"Next," he said.
Go Deeper
Ready to put this teaching into practice? Poured Out is a guided workbook drawn from Psalm 139, Psalm 39, Romans 12, Acts 20 and 2 Timothy 4. Work through four movements at your own pace and finish with one page you build for yourself: Your Finish Line.
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