By Brad Locke
July 22, 2005

(AgapePress) - Lance Armstrong's imminent retirement has brought into sharp focus his accomplishments, which demand both respect and awe. I haven't gone out and bought a Live Strong wrist band or anything, but I have come to appreciate Armstrong's record feat of seven straight Tour de France titles (No. 7 is a mere formality now). And I appreciate what he's done for cancer research and the way he's inspired people, healthy and unhealthy alike. It is amazing to consider how quickly Armstrong rose from the grave's edge to the pinnacle of athletic achievement. Who among us, or even throughout history, has experienced such extremes in one lifetime, much less in the span of a decade?

Yet my appreciation is tinged with sadness, because I wonder if he appreciates the second chance he was granted. Armstrong's ex-wife once told him that his recovery from cancer was a work of God's grace, but Armstrong scoffed at that. I suppose he thought men alone -- himself and the doctors -- were responsible for his regained health. You hear all the time about how Armstrong "beat cancer" (he's said it himself). That's a silly notion, to think we can will our way past the clutches of death without divine intervention. A positive attitude can certainly aid that cause, and I admire the courage Armstrong had when facing his illness, but it is foolish to think that one can defeat the unpredictable and unseen.

Armstrong wants people to be able to deal with having cancer and, hopefully, survive it. But what comes after that? Armstrong, of course, has gone on to gain fame and fortune. This inspires and motivates cancer-stricken people (and many perfectly healthy folks, too). What will he do after this final victory, though? How will he continue to help others? Whatever he does can't possibly bring as much visibility to his cause as have his athletic exploits.

So what is there to live for? What reason does someone have to fight through illness? What hope is there on the other side of tragedy? What Armstrong's example has shown is that those who survive are capable of achieving great things -- great things in man's eyes, anyway. But when we die, those things become rather worthless. Sure, Armstrong's feats will continue to inspire people long after he's dead, but there is no eternal benefit from such inspiration. We all die eventually, whether by cancer or something else. In our minuscule time on Earth, dying at 30 instead of 80 isn't all that significant when cast against time's infinite landscape.

Sure, death itself is significant, but what one does with one's years is more important than living a long time. And the only thing worth doing on Earth is serving God. It took Armstrong nearly dying for him to devote himself to helping others. I hope it doesn't take something like that to motivate me to help others. How much more beautiful, too, to help others in Christ's name. It's imperative to minister to a person's spiritual needs as well as their emotional and physical needs. That's where Live Strong, I'm afraid, comes up a bit short.

The website -- LiveStrong.org -- gives token mention of "faith-based support" as an option for those suffering emotionally. If I were diagnosed with cancer, I can think of no other support I would rather have than that of a sovereign God. If He can sustain someone like the great hymnist Fanny Crosby through a lifetime of wretched suffering, He can do it for anyone.

And it is to Him we should be thankful for aiding cancer survivors. Armstrong is an inspiration to be sure, but only God can provide that infinite inspiration.