I've started looking forward to running. I don't dread it anymore, I actually look forward to it. I'm not good at it, I still struggle to breath when I'm doing it, but I like the way it makes me feel when I'm doing it and after I've done it. Heck! I even enjoy anticipating doing it. Anticipating doing an action you know will benefit you is a tremendous motivator!
I love getting out on the track, to the park or even around the neighborhood. I like to think and feel when I'm running. I am very aware that I am alive. The majority of my body is engaged and working together to make it happen. Bodily teamwork...one might say. When I'm running my mind is engaged with my body and I feel whole.
In church this morning we had a guest speaker who talked about how the word "missions" shouldn't make us think about "geography" but should make us think about what's right in front of us, unbelievers. He gave us all these stats about the poor health of the Christian church and then challenged us to be missional right in our own communities, basically before it's too late. I've been mulling that over since noon when the service let out.
I have a blister between my big and second toe on my right foot from walking around town in my flip flops. They are not good exercise shoes. I walked from Vinny's in Hatfield, over to church. Jeff and I had lunch together and then he had to zip down to Montgomeryville to go to work, so I decided I'd like to ride with him from church to Vinny's and that I would walk back to my car.
On my walk back, I was very aware of my vulnerability and was extra conscious of the intersections I came to. I thought carefully about where I put my feet, and of being polite and waving to people I came across. I became very aware of myself, in my environment. Usually, when I'm in the car, the town passes by in a relative blur as I speed from one destination to another. This time, as I walked along, I really saw Hatfield.
I passed a man walking the other way. He didn't look like he had a home. I've seen him around town before, and wondered where he finds shelter. I said hello and he was polite, and I think he even greeted me first. I became conscious of the clothes on my back and the rings on my fingers, and I watched people driving by in their shiny cars, some on their way home from church others out for leisure or to visit friends. Then I thought about the man I had passed on the street and wondered about his life and where he may have had lunch, if he had any at all.
What are we doing for our fellow men? I mean the people in our very own communities. Are we doing everything we can, or are we just putting in our tithe? What could I be doing to help the guy I passed on the street?
I began to think about praying as I walked around Hatfield, and saning it for the Lord, consecrating myself (ourselves as the church) to the work to be done in our community. I am certain that others need to be convinced of my sincere interest in their lives before they can hear what I have to say about Jesus and take it to heart. So what's the plan?
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