ADJUST YOUR PACE
R – eflect:
“He was the greatest man among all the people of the East.”
Job 1:3
U – nderstand:
The book of Job is fascinating.
If we were to imagine Job as an athlete — a runner — we would consider him outstanding.
He had broken records.
He was leading the race.
He would rank among the greats in our history books — from sprints to middle distance to the marathon.
At this point in his “running phase,” Job was coasting.
Even God, his Coach, was pleased with him.
He was disciplined.
He followed the program.
He fuelled well.
He hydrated.
He stayed consistent with the workouts.
Job was the archetype of a faithful endurance athlete.
This is where we all want to be, don’t we?
Then enter chapters 2 through 41.
Everything collapses.
Job suffers what feels like a career-ending injury — through no fault of his own.
He loses form.
He loses momentum.
He is no longer the force to reckon with.
His followers on Strava recede to a paltry number.
The applause fades.
The personal bests become painful reminders of what used to be.
His friends begin to question him.
Surely this collapse must be his fault?
Maybe he neglected some discipline.
Maybe he missed something in training. Wrong running shoes?
Neglected physio?
Maybe he cut corners.
But deep down, Job cannot identify any wrongdoing.
When he reflects on his past, he sees obedience.
Chapter 29 reads like a confident defence of his integrity.
This loss of form was not self-inflicted.
Then God speaks in chapter 38.
All along, Job and his friends were busy analysing splits, comparing data, and debating causes.
They were determined to find explanations within their own understanding.
Not once did they truly pause to wait for God to speak.
Sometimes, that is us.
Last October, during the Frankfurt Marathon, I sustained a muscle injury in my lower right leg mid-race.
At that point, I was coasting, like Job.
Fitness was high.
I was chasing a sub-3-hour finish.
Then I felt it.
I hobbled the rest of the race and finished in 3 hours 34 minutes.
Respectable under the circumstances, but far from the goal.
From November to January, I was sidelined.
Rehab was long.
Recovery was frustrating.
And even when I was cleared to run again, I had to adjust — significantly.
My easy pace became much slower than what I was used to.
That was hard.
My ego resisted.
My mind compared.
But gradually, I learned to accept the new pace.
And that is where many of us find ourselves spiritually.
We experience “injuries” in our walk with God.
They are not always the result of sin or negligence.
Sometimes life simply shifts.
Seasons change.
Strength dips.
Our default response?
Diagnose. Fix. Correct. Solve.
Mostly, we do this leaning on our own understanding.
But perhaps the lesson is not about fixing the injury quickly.
Perhaps it is about adjusting the pace.
God’s pace in one season may not be His pace in another.
There are seasons to sprint.
There are seasons to build.
And there are seasons to slow down and heal.
Adjusting your pace is not quitting the race.
It is wisdom.
It is trust.
It is surrender.
N – avigate:
- Have there been moments when you felt “injured” and became desperate?
- When things collapsed, where did you turn first for help — analysis or prayer?
- Are you resisting a slower pace because it bruises your pride?
- What might God be teaching you in this reduced speed season?
- Is this a time to push harder — or to heal properly?
- Are you courageous enough to trust God’s pace, even when it makes little sense?
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