Memory running………or something like that.
I’m not really sure what you would call it. That’s what it feels like anyway. If you haven’t ever experienced it, I’m not sure you’ll understand. But I’ll do my best.
Sometimes when I’m out running my local trails, especially on beautiful mornings as today’s was, I get this feeling. It’s like my mind is given liberty to roam and explore; while my body puts it’s self in cruise control…no…auto-pilot. It’s like this special outdoor magic that is reserved for your home trail only. A breeze will push branches out of your way. Your feet magically fall upon sure footing. A period of time will pass…and you are further along the trail, but with no real memory of how you got there. I mean, you know how you “must” have gotten there, but with no real recollection. It’s something beautiful.
Often in these moments I’ll have some sort of epiphany, when a complete thought rushes together, a complete three-dimensional image that is whole in every way. It’s in these moments I find that I’m enjoying the journey, loving life for the exact moment itself, not just for what it can bring me tomorrow.
I want my relationship with my Creator to be as this. A place of safety, where I can turn off, absorb all He is, and “wake up” to find myself in a “different” place than I was before. I want to love my Savior only for who He is, not for what He can bring me tomorrow. I long to see the complete picture of my God before me, if that’s even possible/fathomable.
Don’t get me wrong. I understand tomorrow will come, and next week will arrive soon after. But I’m not there. I’m here. My footsteps today will find the sure footing necessary to lead me to my destiny, forsaking what must be forsaken, embracing what must be embraced.
Home…I guess that’s what I mean. Running my trail is like being home, just like being in His grip.
Robert Frost – A Dream Pang:
I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
And to the forest edge you came one day
(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
You shook your pensive head as who should say,
‘I dare not—too far in his footsteps stray—
He must seek me would he undo the wrong.
Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
And tell you that I saw does still abide.
But ’tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.
Go look for something. You might enjoy what you find. The journey continues…better than ever before.