Why Do We Run?

Friday mornings are when I like to head over to the Olmos Basin soccer fields to do my prayer walking. The track is paved and even, so I don't have to concentrate on anything but what God and I are in conversation over. I try to get there early, by a few minutes past seven o'clock, at least.

Last week I had a visitor greet me. It was a little black dog with a hurt leg. He was wearing a collar, but there was no tag and no way to determine who he belonged to or from where he had come. He ran right up to me but was very reluctant to let me get too close.

He was obviously lost and had been in some kind of accident, for he had a hind leg that was injured or perhaps it was a hip out of joint. Either way he wouldn't, or couldn't, put weight on it. At first I thought he might have belonged to a gentleman there at the track, but the man came and went... and the dog stayed.

As the fields became more populated with others walking and running, Good Samaritan after Good Samaritan stopped to ask about the pup, trying to render aid in whatever form the poor dog would take. He would have none of it. One of the walkers I see regularly drove home to get food and offered it. The dog choked down a couple of bites but was too skittish to manage more than that.

Two women in particular tried desperately to get the dog to come to them, following at a distance each time he'd limp away. It was so sad. The puppy obviously needed the help, but fear of one thing or another kept him at bay... running, searching until exhaustion overtook him and he was forced to lie down briefly to rest.

I was there for nearly two and a half hours. During that time there were dozens of individuals who tried to rescue that little lost dog... provide comfort, sustenance, aid, direction, but the dog just wouldn't stop his running.

I couldn't help but think of how we sometimes do the same thing.

Run...

... but the One we're running from is God.

Whether we've run away on purpose or simply strayed, we can become hopelessly lost... far from home, alone, hungry, bruised and broken. We need a Rescuer, but fear... or pride keeps us from accepting the help we so desperately require.

Is it that we think we can find our own way?

How could we, for He is the way.

Is it because we are afraid to commit, fearing that to do so would imprison us, hold us captive to a standard we could never attain?

Surely not, for He came to set the captives free.

Might it be that we have strength enough to go it alone?

Impossible. The Lord is our strength and our defense.

Why then do we run?

When we are hungry, He sustains. When we are afraid, He comforts. When we are broken, He heals.

... and when we are lost... He rests not until He finds us and brings us home again.

If we must run, then let it be into the outstretched arms of the One who stretched His arms out for us.

Let us run...

to Jesus.