He sat on death row. All appeals were exhausted and his execution was imminent. When making some of his last requests, there was no trace of bitterness or resentment over an unjust imprisonment in his words. Rather, he peacefully wrote, “when you come bring the cloak which I left at Troas with Carpus, and the books, especially the parchments” (2 Tim. 4:13 LBX). Though his body awaited danger, his mind was somewhere else. Even at the end, the apostle Paul remained focused on the cause, the very cause that he knew would soon require his life.

The head of the sociology department at Eastern University recently conducted a study in which he asked 50 people over the age of 90 this question—“If you could live your life over again, what would you do differently?” Three answers appeared most frequently. People said that they would reflect more, take more chances, and do more things that would live on after they died. The results of this study inspired the book Who Switched All the Price Tags?

What all of those responses have in common is that most people look back on their lives with regret. They see missed opportunities, things they wish they had done more, things they wish they had done less, things they wish they hadn’t done at all. What makes Paul different is that when he looked back, he said, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7 LBX). No switched price tags here. He had valued things that were indeed valuable.

How do you plan to spend your last hour? When the time of your departure has come, which direction will you be facing? Back at the past with its bitter disappointments or ahead to the future, the “crown of righteousness” (2 Tim. 4:8 LBX), with its great rewards? What you do with the hours that remain will determine what you do with your last one.

Join the fight. Paul did not say, “I have watched a good fight” or “I have seen others fight the good fight.” He was enlisted in the army of God, a solider of the cross. He saw it as his own responsibility to war the good warfare, for every Christian is involved in this conflict.

We must fight against the devil. Do you count him as an enemy? If so, why do we let him get so close to us? Why do we allow him into our homes and into our minds and into our lives? The reason that Paul said we must put on the armor of God is so that we can “stand firm against the schemes of the devil” (Eph. 6:10 LBX). He will try every angle, exhaust every opportunity, open any door left open. You have to withstand him. You have to fight him. Otherwise, you become the enemy of God (Jam. 4:4 LBX).

We must fight against ourselves. Sometimes the battles are without. And sometimes they are within. Our spiritual warfare is as much against the devil as it is pride, anger, and lust. But you have to keep fighting until you bring every thought into captivity, until every part of your being is in subjection to the captain of your salvation, Jesus Christ.

Complete the course. Paul finished his. He ran long and he ran far. And he had several occasions when it would have been easy to drop out. But he kept going. He kept training. He kept running.

We must run the race that is “set before us” (Heb. 12:1 LBX). And it is a difficult one. It is filled with obstacles, roadblocks, and detours. It has turns and twists and parts of it that are steep and rocky. But it is a course that must be finished, no matter how hard the wall is when you hit it. Endurance is the refusal to give in, the ability to give more when you’d rather give up. It is the only way to run without regret.

We must run toward the goal. What good would it accomplish to say, “I almost finished the course” or “I almost won the crown?” To almost complete the course is to never start. And the thing that will keep us going, persevering through the pain, is the crown of life at the finish line. Our Champion awaits us. Can you see Him? If not, it’s time to change your course.

Guard the valuables. When Paul said he had “kept the faith,” he meant that he had protected that which had been entrusted to him. Once, he labored to destroy the faith and those who were followers of the Way. But upon seeing its value and import, he gave himself over to its keeping.

We must hold on to what we have. Our Master has entrusted something precious to us, something that is more valuable than all the riches of the world. We must guard it, we must keep it, but we must use it. This treasure is meant for serving, not for storing.

We must hold on until the end. It seems as if we have forgotten that our Master will one day return to settle accounts with us. If we have not prized the faith in our hearts and minds, how can we expect to receive anything from Him? If we placed more value on things that are temporary, why should He entrust to us anything of eternal significance? We have a faith worth keeping. Hold on to it now, or you will lose it later.

Brother Walton E. Lewis left us last week. He would be the first to tell you that he did not win every battle he fought or stay on his feet in every race that he ran. But when he knew it was his time, he looked up from his hospital bed and said, “I’m ready to go.” In his mind, he was already somewhere else. And he prepared himself for that very hour.