Death Isn't Escape; It's Pure Gain.

I remember when I ran an old Christian forum and chat room, I'd see folks type "Come quickly, Lord Jesus" and think, Really? You actually want it all to end right now? I'd nod along in the chat, but never type it myself. Truth was, I didn't want it—not one bit.

Decades of mental storms and yo-yo faith left me desperate for the pain to stop, yet terrified of what waited on the other side. Death as an escape hatch felt fine to me, but the chance of damnation was too much to bear. Happy to depart but dreading the destination at the same time. Paul's race analogy made logical sense in my head, but it never touched my heart. That heart was too hard for the simple truth back then.

Now? Grace has done its work.

I look forward to the prize—the greatest any man could imagine: being with Christ, where tears, pain, stumbles, and evil vanish forever. Life still throws its ups and downs, same as always. But the downs don't ignite anger, frustration, or despair anymore. They get met with a quiet, steady, "Not long now, Lord. Finish line's in sight."

This isn't desperation or depression. It's peace—pure, patient peace. Death no longer terrifies me; it excites me, because it's gain. Pure gain. "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain... My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better" (Philippians 1:21–23).

Only when the finish line comes into clear view—when you're running toward it, eyes fixed on Jesus, "the author and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1–2)—can you truly shout "Come quickly, Lord Jesus!" and mean it from the depths (Revelation 22:20). Not as a morbid plea, but as the longing of a heart that's tasted grace and knows the crown of righteousness is waiting for all who finish faithful (2 Timothy 4:7–8).

If you're still caught in that old double-bind—wanting out but dreading what's next—hear this from one who was there: the race isn't about escaping life; it's about finishing it faithful, looking to the One who ran it perfectly for you. He's calling you to trust Him now. The finish line isn't the end—it's home.

Peace to you, friend. Keep running.