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How to Finish Well

I felt completely out-of-place standing in the line of high school boys, but I did it at the scoutmaster’s suggestion. Opposite us stood another line of hefty boys also in scout uniforms. As the youths shifted their weight, jostled one another, and compared muscles, I waited quietly in my sports clothes. I smiled, but no one seemed to notice.

The scoutmaster called out: “For the race, the boys in line one can choose their canoeing partner from line two.”

Immediately, the inspection began. The lads’ eyes moved up and down us candidates: how tall, how muscly, who’s my friend?

I hadn’t counted on a competition. Why should these young blokes choose me? One by one they paired off.

They don’t want me.

I don’t belong here.

Why did I even come?

Finally, there was only one person left in the second line.

Me. I wished I could disappear.

I didn’t blame them. Even though I considered myself fit, my biceps weren’t impressive — and the guys didn’t know me.

I hadn’t asked to come. The scoutmaster had said: “I’m taking the boys canoeing at Lake Anderson. Want to come? You’ll enjoy the break. We could ask your sister to look after our kids. They love it at the farm with their cousins.”

I jumped at the chance. So, I’d left nappies, cooking, and cleaning behind for an afternoon on the lake.

The scoutmaster, Ian, looked straight at me. “I choose you.”

Just like that, my colour returned to normal.

Ian ran a short training session: paddle strokes, teamwork, and how to keep the canoe upright. Then he pointed across the lake. “At the whistle, push your canoes into the water and start paddling. The finish line is that lone tree on the far shore. Most importantly, keep your eyes on the goal.”

As the boys got beside their canoes, Ian leaned towards me. “Just paddle as hard as you can. I’ll paddle too and steer. We’ll make a great team.”

The whistle blew.

Boys yelled to each other as they pushed their canoes into the water. Immediately boats rocked left and right and began colliding. Paddles flapped around as the smell of algae filled the air. One canoe tipped over and a full-scale water fight erupted. Cold water splashed onto our faces and wet our seats. Hoping our wobbling vessel would stay upright, I rowed as Ian maneuvered us out of the mayhem.

Once into open water, he said: “Congratulations. We cleared that mess. Now to that tree.”

After a short time, we paused to look back. The competition resembled a comedy show. One team spun in circles. Several were trying to untangle their canoes. A few teams had made it out, paddling hard — but heading in different directions.

Facing forward again, I concentrated on my strokes, as Ian used his power and made constant corrections. And guess who won?

Glad to give my muscles a rest, we dragged the canoe onto the bank and sat down to watch the others bring themselves in. Relaxing in the shade I said: “We won, not because of superior strength, but because you kept your eyes on the goal. Otherwise, we’d be back there with the rest of them.”

Since then, I’ve often reflected on that race. It’s not just paddling that matters—it’s direction. As I go through life, what is my tree and am I still on course?

I’m glad God has given us a tree, the tree of life, the Lord Jesus Christ. So, how can I keep on course?

The best advice I’ve received is to establish a habit of daily prayer and Bible reading, thus enabling God’s Spirit to refresh my soul and realign my compass. As the Bible says:

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 that was 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)

– Dorcas Denness                         <*}}}><