Champion cyclist Lance Armstrong is an inspiration to millions. After a life-threatening bout with testicular cancer that had metastasized to his lungs and brain, Armstrong recovered to win the exhausting Tour de France bicycle race — not just once, but five times, including this past summer. Anyone familiar with the severity of Armstrong’s medical condition would have thought this feat impossible.

In a recent interview with Armstrong, Time Magazine reporter Bill Saporito (himself a cancer survivor) mentioned to the legendary rider, “For a miracle man, you’re not very religious.” Armstrong replied, “I don’t have anything against organized religion per se. We all need something in our lives. I personally just have not accepted that belief.”

“Then what do you need?” Saporito asked. Said Armstrong, “The illness gave me a purpose. My bike gives me a purpose; the bike will soon become a hobby and not a job. My illness and my children will be purposes and causes forever, and I need that.”

Lance Armstrong is, I suppose, like most of the people you and I know. He feels a need for some purpose in his life, and has found that purpose in the things of carnal life.

“The illness gave me a purpose.” Thanks be to God that Armstrong was cured of the cancer than once permeated his body. Or perhaps not — “I personally have just not accepted that belief,” Armstrong says. Thanks be, then, to medical science — a science that can’t fully explain the causes of illnesses such as cancer, and often fails in its efforts to cure them. “My illness will be my purpose and cause forever,” says Armstrong, but how long is forever really? Until the next illness comes along, the illness — whatever it might be — that will inevitably end this mortal life? I wonder what Mr. Armstrong’s “cause” will be then.

“My bike gives me a purpose.” But even Armstrong admits that the day will come when his body will no longer allow him to make his living by his prowess on a bicycle. The greatest of athletes gets old. The healthiest of athletes arrives at the day when his muscles can no longer duplicate the feats of youth. If Mr. Armstrong’s purpose is his bicycle, what will he do in the day when he can ride no more?

“My children will be purposes and causes forever.” And this is the lesson for his children, apparently: When you succeed in life, you don’t need God. When you face illness, aging, and death, you don’t need God. Some people need God, but you personally don’t have to accept that belief. Let your accomplishments be your god. Let your triumphs over competition and illness be your god. Let a two-wheeled machine be your god. Let anything but God be god in your life.

A man named Naaman once thought he didn’t need God to free him from an incurable illness. He was wrong. A king named Nebuchadnezzar thought he didn’t need to give God the credit for his successes. He, too, was wrong. Every good gift is from God (James 1:17) — give Him the glory. And if you need a purpose, here’s one: “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is man’s all” (Ecclesiastes 12:13).