The Starter's Block

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s running. Ugh. Just thinking about moving faster than a brisk walk and I can practically feel my lungs burn and my legs ache. And what’s worse is that I have, at times (almost unbelievably) managed to fight the pain and build up to perhaps the world-accepted-minimum-running-requirement and get to 5km on a path or treadmill. The most recent time I reached that level of fitness was “Covid-eve,” and after my gym closed down, I maintained it for about a minute or two. Then I got pregnant, and it’s anyone’s guess if I will ever run that far again. I might, but UGH!

And yet, if I were to characterize this season in life, the image I return to again and again, is a runner on their starting block. In thinking about this, I wonder if every different season has a posture to match. Not a physical posture per se, but an emotional, mental, and spiritual one.

In seasons of battle, we adopt a posture of attack or defense.

In seasons of intense or chronic pain, it may feel like we are curled up in a ball, or hidden deep within a pit.

In seasons of joy and plenty, it can feel like we are in a relaxed recline, or with our face lifted toward the sun.

Life goes on measured by minutes and hours, but these seasons become markers, too. Sometimes the season has changed, but our posture hasn’t. As we exited our season in the pit, it took a long time for my body to rise; for my face to find the sunlight. I walked with stooped shoulders long after the weight was lifted. And now, if I were to put a picture to the condition of my spirit, it is of readiness, keen anticipation, and alertness, perhaps with a few butterflies in the belly. I feel like a runner ready to start the race… without knowing when the starter’s pistol will fire, what exactly I should do when it does, and not much of an idea where the course will take me when I start. All I have is the training leading me up to this race, and Holy Spirit running with me and before me. Everything I need, actually.

Interestingly, in conversations locally, regionally, and internationally, I find I am not alone. As I listen, I discover it isn’t just my posture, it’s one echoing around the globe. Perhaps instead of running alone, I am seeing my teammates gather along their own starting lines, each of us responding in our own way to this bigger, grander movement of God. What is coming, I wonder, to stir in so many of us this same posture; poised for action?

I may hate running (oh, please let this not be a literal race!), but I am ready for this. And just like all racers, there may be some false starts, but those ready to run never miss the pistol fire. And until it sounds, we continue to train, to study, to pray, and our greatest call - to love.

With our heads bowed, on our knees, we hear our Father whisper,

“On your marks, get set ….”