ouch!

There's a man that runs in our neighborhood. For the life of me I can't figure out why. Kneepads choke their intended and he limps along in a wracked gait. Why doesn't he just walk? Surely it would be faster and less painful. I hate watching him. It reminds me of a crack addict who simply can't control the urge any longer.

This man wasn't made to run. Or if he was, he long since should have abandoned the calling. I thought about how that applies to our areas of giftedness and even our lives in general. Some of us want so badly to be what we're not, to explore areas we have no business in, but it seems cool. And some of us, when we've exhausted our resources, are unable to fulfill the necessities. Yet we can't seem to give it up, we keep plugging away, wasting time, wearing away what little we've got left.

This man should be swimming. He might like it! He might love the feel of the water swooshing over him, cooling those ravaged knees. But he's missing out because the danger signs mean nothing to him anymore.

What does this have to do with you and me? I don't know. I guess I just hope that someday, when God says it's time for me to go swimming I don't strap on the kneepads, hobble away from Him, and say, "But years ago You made me a runner. Remember?"

Don't get me wrong, I hope to be writing for years, but if God says He wants me to do something else, be someone else, someday, I hope I'm wise enough and aware enough to jump in the pool!

grace,

lisa