My husband is rather fond of the author Jon Acuff.  And by fond I mean he was rather giddy in sharing that he was able to have Jon autograph his copy of Finish, but not so protective that he wouldn’t let me read the book, no matter how long it has taken me.  Which is a good thing since, ironically, the book sat unfinished on my nightstand for quite some time, because you know, children getting up in the middle of the night tend to leave things rather unfinished, books included.  Let me assure you, Jordan is discerning in his choice of reading, and so I have not surprisingly enjoyed Jon’s witty and compelling writing style.  If you’re unfamiliar, Finish is all about doing just that – finishing – goals and ambitions that have perhaps laid dormant or have had a tough time moving beyond the starting point.  We can undoubtedly all immediately relate at one point or another in our stories.  As I eased through the pages I found myself recalling sundry goals that ebbed back and forth in priority.  Most of the time I couldn’t identify with what was in front of me, as the farthest goal I have been able to muster has been completing the day at hand.  Attempting to create goals has actually been more my mantra these days.  Nonetheless, I at last found myself in the final few pages, and it was there that his words leapt off the surface, resounding with whatever pieces of my story I had dragged along the preceding pages.  So here it is, a few pages from the end…

“Here’s a question you’ve never asked yourself:

‘What am I getting out of not finishing?’

Because you’re getting something.

If you’ve had a goal for a while or one that you’ve started and routinely quit, there’s a reason.

You’re getting something out of not finishing. There’s a piece of cheese somewhere in this maze…

This is a classic benefit of not finishing.You get to hold on to the illusion that

you could finish if you really wanted to.  Rather than try to find out you might not be good, you hide in the myth of maybe.” 

Did you hear it?  Although I dare not dwindle all which was poured into this book down to a few provoking sentences, his insight to me is profound.  To hold in front of us the illusion that what you receive out of distracted, half-finished pursuits is greater than running the race to completion.  We all carry such depth inside of every crevice of our story.  Cracks that reveal themselves in the most unassuming ways, though carry with them the difference between done or depleted.  A hidden layer that works to keep from disappointing not only yourself, but those to whom you have given a voice.  A vying for control that might somehow be lost in releasing something to completion.  A source of identity that will slip from your sense of self once a pursuit comes to fruition.  A fear of failure that you thought you skirted by being willing to chase down that dream to begin with, yet keeps you bound by a hesitancy of seeing if failure has still yet won.  A part of your story that you have shared so fervidly that to attain rest in it feels to leave others behind.  A misunderstanding of belief, that to find satisfaction in the journey is to fall short of faith.  Layers that would rather the benefit of not finishing.  That would find it better to say “Well, I guess we’ll never know.”

We need to be fair to each other in this, as it might be easy for the fervent, dominating individual to see a halted pursuit as laziness, and although laziness has somehow become an epidemic in a culture identified by busyness, such is not the case here.  You cannot immediately peg a less aggressive individual as soft or lagging or passive.  For they may carry with them a weight that halts achievement; a burden not so easily put down.  And vice versa, one might find that those individuals who command success and attack goals like wolves in a sheep pen can carry the allure of finishing, yet it is that same domineering presence that pushes people away.  For to finish one thing is not enough.  Your identity has been wrapped up in what you are capable of accomplishing, and those that cannot keep up with your high expectations or relational ineptness admire your successes yet find company elsewhere.  The weight you attach to finishing is just as heavy, yet you treat it more like a brace than a weight, for what footing would you have without it?

Perhaps I digress, but the nugget is there if you feel like digging for gold.  To those compulsive starters, take the risk and discover what you cannot know otherwise at the doorway of done.  To those compulsive finishers, do the same, only discover who you are before the finish line, and let others see you there.

EXPOSITION: Where do you sit on the side of finished?  

RISE: Read those italicized sentences one more time.  Do you find yourself in any of them?  Better yet, ask someone close to you if they find you in any of these.  Set up a game plan to take it even further by asking them to hold you accountable to shedding the layers that keep “done” from happening.  Share with them something you are committing to – and by all means, start small – and intentionally check in on how it’s going.  And hey, might as well read “Finish” while you’re at.  At the very least, the humorous jabs make for a good read.

DENOUEMENT: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.”