Run, Don't Walk...

I think I first heard this humorous turn of phrase while chatting with a divorced woman a few months ago. Her former husband had been a terribly, terribly abusive man. A good friend, upon perceiving the true state of the marriage, gave her this advice:

Run, don't walk, to the nearest divorce lawyer.

Divorce is ugly business — but the phrase, it must be said, was catchy and memorable.

A week ago a good friend of mine landed a very promising new job. His current employer tried to counter. Knowing just how dysfunctional his current workplace situation is, my advice to him was this:

Run, don't walk, to that new job.

This morning I had to get up early. Way early. As my befuddled mind tried to start the day aright, with greetings to my Lord, the attempt was rather meandering. As my thoughts wandered, I found myself thinking of that friend of mine who got a new job. A moment later I heard, as if from a distance, a voice saying...

Run, don't walk, to Jesus.

The voice of God? My imagination continuing to run its course? I suppose a bit of both. After all, God breaks into our own thoughts through our own minds! If you think about it, it's a tautological truth.

Divine promptings and mundane machinations — our thoughts are the playground of God and man. And, for completeness, I must sadly note that our thoughts are also the playground of the devil himself. Lord, help us to know the difference!

As for this particular thought, I'm inclined to treat it with a bit of reverence. I was befuddled and groggy! Eminently sane and sagacious advice arriving at that hour deserves the honor. So as the fog of sleep began to clear, I began to meditate on the words I'd heard.

Run, don't walk, to Jesus.

The more I think about it, the more I am struck by how insulting it is to God when I walk, don't run, to him. It implies... no... it indicates that I don't have a clue just how desperate my situation, nor how badly I need Jesus. God's advice to us is this:

Run, don't walk, to Jesus.

So each morning, dearest Lord, let me run, not walk, to you. And stay with you all day.