Paul writes his last recorded words today, from a Roman cell, with the executioner's date approaching: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

No panic, no regret, one request for a cloak and his scrolls. This is what a completed life sounds like. Read it and ask what sentence you are currently writing toward.

Paul's audit has three verbs and no assets: fought, finished, kept. Nothing about crowds, buildings, or reach. The race was measured by faithfulness to what was entrusted, and the crown, he insists, is stocked for everyone who longs for the appearing, not just apostles.

The strange tenderness in Jeremiah, God wailing over Moab even while judging, tells you what kind of Judge holds the crown. He takes no pleasure in any ruin. So run today's leg of your race for Him: in season, out of season, cloak optional, scrolls in hand, heart unhardened while it is still called today.