I found myself in an oh too familiar space, lost in the crowd, the starter’s pistol at the ready. As the race began, trophy seekers surged to the front with wannabe’s close on their heels. There were moments when I advanced and others when I fell behind, but I found my pace, regulated my breathing and pressed on. Competitors flew by in hurried strides methodically switching from lane to lane, yet I refused to let another’s journey affect my own.
Comfortable in my own strength, I was not prepared for the hill ahead and stumbled into the dirt. A caring set of Hands lifted me and set me back on my way though it took a while to shake off the mud. Regaining my step, I looked up to see no one in front of me, no one behind, only the sound of lungs drawing an icy breath on a chilled January morning … and one set of footsteps.
Had I made a wrong turn? Did I not follow direction or completely ignore them? It wouldn’t be the first time. Continuing along a predawn path, I heard a gentle whisper:
This is where you hear My voice.
Away from the noise of this world, in this space, in this moment.
When I walked the earth with human feet, I sought these moments to commune with the Father, to rest, to recharge, to discern His will for My life.
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where He prayed. Mark 1:35
You have felt this calling too.
When your heart can take no more, you seek someplace quiet, even if just a breath completing some mundane chore. There has been laughter, there have been tears and sometimes no words at all. A moment to commune with the Father.
Do not miss these moments.
I turned the corner to see the others had run well ahead of me, yet I continued on.
Just the sound of my breath, and two sets of footsteps.
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