running

Funny how the effects of things can linger. Thursday afternoon I went jogging with my friend Anna for a time. She's a runner, I'm not. I stretched, yet my muscles kept reminding me days later of the trauma they underwent. She was encouraging, kept a steady pace for me to follow, and we started walking when I was about to fall over.

I've heard many sermons and devotionals likening the Christian life to a race, and have memorized Paul's metaphor in 1 Cor. 9. They've never really resonated with me because I'm not a runner and don't terribly enjoy steady consistent running (though bursts of speed can be good for the soul). I wonder if Paul was ever an athlete and if he knew from experience what it was like - the long-distance mindset, pacing oneself, being afraid to stop for a second because once you stop your muscles vehemently resist beginning again. Perhaps if I really was a runner I would understand the analogy to the Christian life.

As it is my picture is based more on Isaiah 40:31 - soaring on wings like eagles, running and not growing tired, walking and not fainting. Sometimes life is smooth, sometimes steady, and sometimes all you can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other. And God sustains through it all.