Running the Race Marked Out

In the 1924 Paris Olympics, Scottish sprinter Eric Liddell faced a decision that would define his life. Favored to win the 100 meters, he learned the heats were scheduled on a Sunday. Liddell, a devout Christian, refused to run — not because he lacked ambition, but because he understood his purpose ran deeper than gold medals.

He switched to the 400 meters, an event he had barely trained for. As he settled into the blocks for the final, a masseur slipped a note into his hand. It read: "He that honors Me, I will honor" — a paraphrase of 1 Samuel 2:30.

Liddell won gold that day, setting a world record of 47.6 seconds. But the race wasn't the point. A year later, he left behind his fame and sailed to China as a missionary, where he spent the rest of his life serving others in the name of Christ. He died in a Japanese internment camp in 1945, still pouring himself out for the people around him.

Liddell once said, "God made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure." He understood something most of us spend a lifetime learning: purpose isn't about what you can achieve — it's about who you were made to serve.

The Almighty doesn't waste gifts. Every talent, every ability, every passion He places in you is an invitation — not toward personal glory, but toward the specific work He prepared for you before the world began.

What would change if you stopped asking "What can I accomplish?" and started asking "What was I made for?"