Understanding My Course
One of the things that has been weighing heavily on me is this verse from 2 Timothy 4:7 (KJV):
“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”
The Apostle Paul wrote this at a time when his departure through death was imminent.
He begins the chapter by encouraging young Timothy and giving him a final charge and instruction for the journey ahead.
In the verse above, I highlighted two words: “my course.”
We are living in a time where we are watching everybody, following what is trending, doing what is popular.
But we have to ask ourselves, is this part of “my course”?
Is this part of the assignment that God has for my life?
Before Paul came to this point, he had what we love to call a Damascus Road experience.
In Acts 9, the Lord appears to Paul in an unusual way that grabs his attention and sets him on the course God had for him.
Paul was doing his own thing as a religious leader, persecuting the Church of God and being a terror to Kingdom advancement.
Yet that experience opened his eyes to a new journey of understanding “my course.”
I am sure when Paul answered and surrendered to his destiny, he did not fully grasp what he would have to endure on the journey of “my course.”
Before Paul could ever say, “I have finished my course,” he first had to accept what that course required.
I believe a lot of us struggle with this: surrender and what it requires of us. Owning our course comes with sacrifice.
When God called him in Acts 9, He did not just give him purpose. He gave him direction.
He told him to go to Ananias, and there his training for the course began.
We cannot advance to the next level of our course without first owning that this is the path God has for us.
Paul was not called to blend in.
He was not called to protect his old reputation.
He was called to be separated.
Separated from his former mindset.
Separated from the religious pride that once defined him.
Separated from worldliness and compromise.
We cannot look at other people and assume they have it easy because of what we think they get to do, look like, or where they get to go.
They may very well be living in rebellion and disobedience.
In Galatians 1, Paul speaks about being separated unto the gospel of God.
With our course comes separation.
We cannot remain attached to the world.
That word separated matters.
You cannot fully own your course if you are constantly mixing it with things God never assigned to you.
When I enrolled in university fresh out of high school, my course, no pun intended, was not fully available on my island.
I would have had to relocate to the main university campus.
I knew that environment would not be conducive for me as a believer.
God directed me to a Christian college in Ohio.
Now, I did not have the money for the tuition, but I understood my course.
Could I have been in a better position if I had just gone to the main university campus?
Maybe.
But my course required a sacrifice.
It required a transition from one country to another so that God could train me even more.
Every university I have attended so far has required sacrifice.
There were no full-ride scholarships.
I had to trust the Lord every step of the way.
But I understood what my course required.
It took me on a different journey.
A journey that was not always easy.
Could I have taken the easier road and found a full ride scholarship at another university?
Sure.
But that would not have been God’s course for me.
Even with moving away from my homeland and seeing where I am now, this course God has me on has been transformational.
I have grown spiritually, in my career, relationships, and every area of my life.
I have seen the fruit of owning my course, even though it has only just begun.
Paul’s course was clear.
Preach Christ.
Plant churches.
Strengthen believers.
Carry the gospel to places it had never gone.
So he planted churches in Philippi, Corinth, and Ephesus.
He did not just visit cities.
He built foundations.
He did not just inspire crowds.
He established communities of faith that would outlive him.
He raised up sons and daughters in ministry to nurture the seeds planted in those cities.
But owning that course meant embracing everything that came with it. The course was not always glamorous.
In Acts 25, Paul was imprisoned.
In Acts 27, Paul survived a violent shipwreck.
In Acts 28, after reaching shore, a viper fastened onto his hand.
These are just some of what comes with “my course.”
Paul was walking in obedience and still found himself in these situations.
So we cannot allow the sufferings of our course to draw us away from the ultimate prize.
For many of us, we cannot even handle being talked about without wanting to reconsider everything.
We must understand that “my course” requires strength.
Paul told Timothy that he had to endure hardness as a good soldier.
A soldier is not afraid of the battle because he knows he signed up for the fight.
A firefighter does not run from the fire.
He puts on his uniform and goes into the blaze to handle it.
When you understand your course, you stop interpreting every storm as a detour.
Sometimes it is confirmation that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
Paul also understood that his course required spiritual discipline.
He urged believers not to be conformed to this world.
He called for holiness.
He challenged churches to live set-apart lives.
He was not trying to be culturally comfortable.
He was determined to be spiritually faithful.
It is sad when believers refuse to own that holiness is part of “my course.”
If we are called Christians, then we cannot live outside of Christ’s teaching.
A lot of people want the name but not the lifestyle, yet the lifestyle comes with “my course.”
In First Corinthians 9:24-27, Paul paints a great picture of what it means to own “my course.”
Any runner looking to win a race in the Olympics adheres to strict guidelines.
They do not just end up at the Olympics by chance.
There are qualifying rounds.
Even before the qualifiers, those runners must understand what their race requires.
What is required for a 100m runner is not the same as what is required for an 800m runner.
Whatever instructions their coaches give them, they must abide by them if they want to win the race.
It is the same with us as believers.
We cannot reach 2 Timothy 4:7 without first going through Acts 9.
The instructions are what lead us to the prize.
Owning “my course” says I will not dilute what God called me to do.
Owning “my course” says I will not compare my lane to someone else’s platform.
Owning “my course” says I will stay faithful even when everything and everyone is telling me not to.
If God said that part of your course is forgiving the man who abused you, can you?
If God said that part of your course is taking off the makeup, can you?
If God said that part of your course is leaving that girlfriend, can you?
If God said that part of your course is trading in that iPhone for a flip phone because there is too much access to lust in your life, can you?
If God said that part of your course is coming out of tight dresses, pants, and revealing clothing, can you?
Or is it about us? Are we in the way of God’s course for our lives?
By the time he writes to Timothy in 2 Timothy 4, Paul is not guessing about his life.
He is not competing.
He is not regretting obedience.
He knows.
He planted.
He preached.
He endured.
He stayed separate.
He finished.
Would it not be a sad day to reach the end of our lives regretting that we did not obey God?
The Warning of Demas
I think about a name in 2 Timothy and what Paul had to say about him.
In verse 10 he says, “Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world…”
In Colossians 4:14 and Philemon 1:24, Demas is mentioned as a fellow laborer.
He was there.
He worked alongside Paul.
He was close enough to ministry to be named.
But by the time we reach 2 Timothy 4:10, the tone shifts.
Somewhere along the way, Demas got off his course.
Maybe it got too hard.
Maybe he saw what Paul went through and decided he could not do it.
Maybe he saw something that looked better.
Maybe that one tree in the garden became more appealing to him.
Whatever it was, he left his course.
“Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world…”
That line is sobering.
Demas did not start off in the world.
He started off working in the Kingdom.
Which means you can be near purpose and still not fully own it.
You can be around calling and still not commit to your course.
At some point, Demas made a choice.
And we are going to have to make one too.
It may be every day, every week, every month.
But what will our response be when the moment comes?
Paul stayed separated.
Demas loved this present world.
Paul endured prisons, shipwrecks, rejection, and isolation.
Demas walked away.
Same environment. Same calling. Different endings.
That is the tension of “my course.”
Owning your course is not just about starting strong.
It is about remaining anchored when other options look easier.
It is about resisting the pull of what feels comfortable when you know what God assigned to you requires sacrifice.
Demas is not just a name in a verse. He is a warning.
You can drift.
You can slowly mix your calling with compromise.
You can trade eternal assignment for temporary comfort.
Paul could say, “I have finished my course,” because he refused to fall in love with this present world.
He understood that his assignment required separation, endurance, and unwavering focus.
The contrast forces us to ask a hard question.
Will I stay the course when it costs me?
Or will I slowly abandon what God called me to because something else looks more appealing?
At the end of the day, everyone has a course.
The difference is not who starts.
The difference is who stays.
The question is not whether we admire Paul’s finish.
The real question is whether we are willing to fully own the course God has written for us.
Not someone else’s calling.
Not what is trending.
Not what feels safe.
Our course.
Raphael R. Roker 
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