When You're Running.

One of my favorite romantic comedies is Runaway Bride, with Julia Roberts and Richard Gere.  I love the scene where Julia's character Maggie finds her true love and decides she is going to stop running.  Her way of telling her love, Ike, that her running days are over?  She gives him her running shoes.

She gives him her running shoes.

It's a cute little moment, meant to make hopeless romantics like myself melt into a puddle of happy tears.  (Spoiler alert: it works.)  But I'm always struck by the meaning behind it.  I love you.  I choose you.  I'm not going anywhere anymore.

I'm a runner.  Before you start signing me up for marathons, you should know that I don't mean a physical runner.  I'm a spiritual runner, an emotional runner.  I run from God, from life, from love, from obedience, from community, from scary words like "vulnerability" and "transparency" and "trust".  My first instinct is to bolt.

But God and I have been working on this for a few years.  It began with a simple resolution to conquer fear and has continued into this year of deep-end living, and I find something miraculous happening: if I catch myself running, I make the decision to turn back around and give God my running shoes.

I love You.  I choose You.  I'm not going anywhere anymore.

I know I'm not the only runner out there.  Maybe you're running from Him.  Maybe you're running from something He has called you to do.  Maybe you're running because it's all you've ever known and you can't figure out how to stay.  Maybe you're running because you're afraid of staying, afraid of being still long enough to look at yourself and not like what you see.  

Regardless of how long you've been running, regardless of the purpose, it's time to stop.  It's time to surrender.

It's time to turn in your running shoes.

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Day Seventeen.

You can find the rest of the series here.