The new year dawns with many people making resolutions, lighting sparklers, and toasting new beginnings. But for some—and I’m thinking particularly of pastors and those in ministry—January feels less like fireworks and more like a cold gray dawn. Maybe you look at the calendar stretching out ahead, and you’re not exactly brimming with optimism. The question surfaces, quiet but insistent: “Can I actually do this for another year?”
I’ve been there. Most church leaders have.
Hebrews 12:1-2 pops into my mind when I’m in that place. The writer says, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross.”
The little passage charts a course for our endurance, pointing us toward three things we must consider if we’re going to last.
Consider Your Speed: “Run with endurance the race set before us.”
I’ve watched too many good pastors flame out because they ran at a pace they couldn’t sustain for the race. They believed the lie that ministry means constant availability, endless output, saying yes to everything and everyone.
But here’s what we forget: Jesus didn’t do that.
Jesus withdrew—regularly. He went off to desolate places to pray. He didn’t heal every sick person in Palestine. He gave the work to his disciples and let them carry it. If the Son of God needed rhythms of engagement and withdrawal, of work and rest, of speaking and silence, what makes us think we can do without them?
There’s also the baggage we carry. “Lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely.” Some of us are trying to run this race while dragging along fear, pride, and the stubborn insistence that we can handle it all ourselves. No wonder we’re exhausted.
Consider Your Sight: “Looking to Jesus.”
A trail runner has to watch the path—every rock, every root, every turn—or he’ll go down hard.
We need that same kind of attentiveness to Jesus. Not a glance every now and then when things get desperate.
We need a steady, sustained gaze upon “the founder and perfecter of our faith.” He started this thing in us, and he’s going to finish it. When your sermon lands flat, and you’re driving home feeling like a failure, look to Jesus. He can take your homiletical disaster and somehow feed his sheep with it. When the criticism comes—and it always comes—look to the One who called you, who justified you, and isn’t going anywhere. He is always with you. When you’re coming apart at the seams, look to the Redeemer who handles bruised reeds with remarkable tenderness.
Consider Your Strength: “For the joy that was set before him.”
Jesus didn’t go to Calvary through clenched teeth and grim determination. He went, not because he had to, but because joy lay ahead. He saw something on the other side that made it all worth it. He looked to the joy of bringing sinners home to the Father, of winning his bride, of pulling off the greatest rescue mission in history.
What’s the joy set before you? Maybe it’s watching someone learning the truth as it’s found in Jesus. Maybe it’s being there when someone finally closes with Christ. Maybe it’s seeing people you’ve equipped go out and advance the gospel in ways you never could. Maybe it’s that future moment when you hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” and see the King in His beauty.
Keep running, friend. Your race matters. Your Savior is watching. And your joy is waiting.
