What Do You Run After in This Life?

Romans 2:6-7 says, “He will render to each according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury.” (ESV)

I had to re-read those verses a few times. Paul is telling his readers to seek after glory? Immortality? Honor? I am, by nature, a glory-seeking person, as I think most of us are. I want my friends to see how perfect my life is–or sometimes, how I continue to persevere even though my life is very imperfect. I seek to honor myself by doing what feels right to me. I don’t deprive myself of anything, even if my searching and longing might hurt others (and myself) in the long run. I seek after immortality in similar ways. I want people to remember my name long after I leave this earth behind, and I think I can somehow outrun death by eating healthy enough. I think the better questions to ask about Romans 2 are these: whose glory? Whose honor? Whose immortality? And why?

As a younger person, I really struggled to understand what it meant to live for God’s glory. I don’t think the idea of living for God’s glory actually occurred to me until I got to college, when I started learning about Christianity from a more reformed perspective. I think I grew up believing that God wanted me to be “good”: get good grades in school, listen to my teachers, and never, ever disobey my parents. Those can all be worthy goals if they’re pursued for God’s glory, not our own gain. As a younger person, I definitely pursued them for my own gain and glory. I liked hearing things like, “Hannah, you’re such a good student. How do you do it?” or, “You get straight A’s. You must really like school.” Which, in all honesty, I didn’t–I just agreed because it seemed like that’s what people wanted me to be: Hannah, who loves school and never does anything wrong. I had a sky-high view of myself–a conceited, potentially destructive perch from which to look down on the rest of the world. I don’t doubt my salvation even back then, but I do realize I had many years of growing to do. Young Hannah was so immature.

Let’s flash forward to a few years ago, when it suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightning: I have issues with food. Young Hannah might have been immature, but older Hannah still definitely has not “arrived.” I thought I honored my body and mental health by always eating when I was hungry, upping my calorie intake whenever I exercised, and indulging myself when I felt sad, stressed, or angry. Ha. In 1 Corinthians 9, Paul expounds on how athletes compete to win the prize. He goes on to say that our prize, as Christians, is not a perishable prize, like a wreath or a crown, but an imperishable prize: eternal life. Athletes discipline their bodies in order to compete in an earthly race; we discipline our bodies in order to compete in a race eternal. Paul says, “I discipline my body and keep it under control” (1 Corinthians 9:27). In many ways, I failed to discipline my body. I let my emotions dictate the decisions I made, especially the decisions related to food. I failed to honor my body as I failed to discipline my body.

Jon Foreman wrote a song called “Learning How to Die.” In the song, he says, “I thought I was learning how to break/how to give not how to take/ how to laugh, not how to cry/really I’ve been learning how die/been learning how die.” Death can be a frightening idea; many of us fear what lies beyond the grave, and no amount of “heavenly encounter” books can allay those fears. In college, I totaled a bright red Ford Taurus in a left-turn lane at a stoplight across from a Caribou Coffee. I will never forget the feeling of flying loose and uncontrolled across the road. The spinning stopped when I hit the median. I jumped out of the car, afraid the airbag would puff open in my face and add to the fear of my already jumbled emotions. I didn’t think anything of the entire incident–people get in car accidents, right?–until one of my friends said, “Hannah, you could have died!” That started me on a spiral of anxiety. I can attest to the power of Jesus to calm fears and impart courage. That car accident taught me something else important: someday, I was actually going to die. Perhaps eating more fruits and vegetables will help me have a productive life, but in the end, this mortal body will break down. I hope that rather than remembering my name, people will remember how I pointed them to God.

God taught me to run after heavenly things instead of earthly things. I work my hardest at the tasks God gives me for his glory, not my own. I want people to look at me and say, “Wow! God has really changed her heart. He’s amazing.” I honor my body by disciplining my body, because God only gave me one body to use in this life and because of his work in me, my heart houses the Holy Spirit. I remember that someday I’m going to die. I must work out my faith in “fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12). I look forward to seeing Jesus face to face someday; not as in a mirror dimly, but clear and lovely and wonderful (1 Corinthians 13:12). And its only by the grace of God that I can do any of these things.

What do you run after in this life?

Photo: Arek Adeoye on Unsplash