Plodding Wins the Race

A take on Aesop’s fable, “The Tortoise and the Hare":

One day a young person was boasting to his friends about his magnificent plans for Christian ministry. He would travel worldwide; throngs of people would come to hear him preach. He would have radio and TV programs; he would write books. He would have a state-of-the-art website. His name would become a household word, synonymous with evangelism, missionary zeal, and relief efforts to the needy. And the money would pour in.

In the same church was a little elderly lady whose sole income was her monthly government check. She had served many years in various capacities: a children’s Sunday School teacher, a maker of cookies for the youth bake sale, a seamstress of Christmas play costumes, sacrificial contributor to missionary offerings. And she prayed a lot. That was mostly all she could do now that she could not see and hear very well.

Occasionally the young man, now a little older and somewhat weary, would return to his home church and tell of his accomplishments. The little lady didn’t have a great deal to show for her efforts except faithful Christians she had taught as youngsters, and a whole generation of young parents who knew she cared about them, and a scrapbook full of letters from missionaries. But she persisted in her faithful prayers

After a number of years went by, the flaming preacher-evangelist-missionary-writer-TV personality-webmaster “burned out.” His family had suffered from his inattention; now it was time to tend to their needs. He grew tired of traveling. He ran out of things to say on his broadcasts; he didn’t produce any new books. His website languished. Finally, he took a secular job “just for a year,” and soon it was three years and then five. Usually he attended worship services, but not at his home church—too embarrassing. He didn’t quit God, but he practically quit the race. Meanwhile, the little lady kept on praying.

One day a missionary speaker came who told of a perilous situation from which they had a miraculous deliverance. When they mentioned the date of that experience, the little lady said to herself, “Ah! That’s the night I was awakened to pray for that missionary family. Thank you, Jesus!” One day she got a letter from a wayward grandson. “Guess what, Grandma! I’ve been saved!” She said out loud, “At last! Oh, thank you, Jesus!” Another time, a young mother in the congregation, dangerously ill during her pregnancy, recovered fully and delivered a healthy baby. “Oh, thank you, dear Jesus!” the little lady whispered to herself. Until she died, she kept praying. She never once thought the race was too hard or too long or too hopeless. She never quit.

So who really won?

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com