Finishing Strong - Part Dos
Even if you aren’t a Bible person, you’ve probably heard of Solomon. As in, King David’s son... The wisest and richest man who ever lived... The ancient ruler who built the Temple in Jerusalem... You know, the dude whose gold got plundered in King Solomon’s Mines, the terrifically bad, 1985 Indiana Jones knock-off...
Yeah, that Solomon.
I bring him up because he’s a textbook example of what not to do. In many ways, really, but especially in terms of finishing strong. In the later years of his life, Solomon chose poorly. Badly. Crap-crap-crappily. Really not goodly.
Why do I say this? Because I recently read a book called (completely coincidentally) Finishing Strong, in which the author skewered Solomon.
See, here’s the thing: God was clear (crystal clear) in his expectations regarding Israel’s kings. He said (paraphrasing): kings should NOT acquire great numbers of horses, take many wives, or accumulate large amounts of silver and gold. Neither should they sniff women’s hair, sell oil from the emergency reserve, or make stuff up while delivering speeches on TV. (Actually, everything after silver and gold is an add-on of my own making. But it seems like a really good idea.)
After LX+ laps around our principle star, I’m a little dizzy, but thankfully, not that bad off in Solomon-esque terms.
Seriously - horses, wives, and gold were the three big don’t-even-think-about-its. But as you may or may not know, Solomon didn’t exactly stick to that plan. In fact, he went in a slightly different direction - the opposite direction. He raked in more than 34 tons of gold, collected 12,000 horses, married 700 wives, and assembled a harem of 300 concubines (aka mistresses).
Dang! Right?
Translation: Fail!
After LX+ laps around our principle star, I’m a little dizzy, but thankfully, not that bad off in Solomon-esque terms. No vast quantities of gold to report, nary a horse (although 3 dogs might be considered too many), and just one wife. Uno.
Unfortunately, 1. I’m not a king and, 2. there are many other parts of my life in which I’ve screwed up majorly. We won’t go into that here.
Let’s just say, I’ve taken a mulligan or two. (The term mulligan is derived from a Greek word meaning literally: Do over ‘cause you really blew it, buster!)
One of the few advantages of advancing in age is that you have the opportunity to look back at a long legacy/rap sheet and say to yourself, “Wow! I should probably try to get my act together before the curtain falls on this comic drama.” This is sometimes referred to as wisdom.
Thus, I have been evaluating, reevaluating, considering, reconsidering, thinking, and rethinking my endgame strategy. When you’re 15, 22, 33, even 45, you don’t really give a hot biscuit about the end or the game or the strategy. At least, I didn’t. I just ventured forward, sometimes with bold strides, sometimes stumbling. But a funny thing happens once you pass the half century mark... It starts to get real.
Mistakes, regrets, and really bad ideas aside, what I’ve discovered is that success boils down to one word: perseverance.
Mistakes, regrets, and really bad ideas aside, what I’ve discovered is that success boils down to one word: perseverance. That and a willingness to course correct, post-mulligan.
Along those lines, I would like to point you to the life of a remarkable man who exemplifies perseverance. His name is Louis Zamperini. If that name doesn’t ring a bell, check out the movie Unbroken. Directed by Angelina Jolie, it tells the true story of someone who makes Job look like a lightweight.
Editor’s note: If you haven’t seen the movie, go watch it right now. I’ll wait.
(Me waiting... And me announcing: MAJOR SPOILER ALERT AHEAD!)
Okay, as you know, now that you’ve watched the movie, in his early years, Zamperini was very un-Solomon like. Instead of riding his father’s coat tails, amassing major worldly goods, an/or satisfying his sensual desires, he:
became an Olympic runner
was commissioned in the Air Force
served as a bombardier in the Pacific during WWII
was shot down and spent 47 days in a raft with two crewmates
was captured by the Japanese
spent two years in four different Japanese concentration camps where he was badly beaten and tortured
His was an exceptional life of courage and valor. A life of overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds. The movie stops there. What it doesn’t tell you is that Zamperini returned home from the war to face even greater challenges. He suffered from PTSD, had terrible, reoccurring nightmares, and wrestled with anger issues. He recklessly wasted all of his money, became an alcoholic, and sunk into a horrible depression.
“I became extremely selfish, cynical, and greedy,” he admitted in a video testimony. “Until the wind was let out of my sails and I lost everything.”
Zamperini is a great example of going the distance. Having survived the war, he had to survive – and overcome – in civilian life.
His wife was in the process of divorcing him when she went to a crusade held by a young, unknown evangelist named Billy Graham. She responded to the alter call, accepted Christ, and then begged Zamperini to attend the crusade. He begrudgingly agreed and eventually surrendered his life to Christ.
“I acknowledged to God that I was a sinner,” he later explained. “I asked the Lord Jesus Christ to come into my heart and save me. And of course, he did. Since then, I have had an unquenchable joy...” He then dedicated his latter years to working with troubled youth.
Zamperini is a great example of going the distance. Having survived the war, he had to survive – and overcome – in civilian life. His experience reminds us that it isn’t enough to have a good or even great first half. You have keep going, keep pressing forward, and finish strong.
I’m beginning to realize that how we finish is even more important than how we start. The race of life can be won or lost in those final, difficult yards.