And perhaps the best thing about this journey, is knowing that we are never alone. On the smooth part, we can sing, shout, run, cycle, dance and get blown in a whirlwind, our spirits caught in a cloud of joy. And on the rough part, shall we not have one another to hold on to, to talk, cry, bleed with?
We are soldiers in arms, our feet worn with calluses. We are too far from the beginning to turn back- God, where is the end? The walk is too far, my feet bleed in bitter anguish against the hard ground. I am the last runner, this race might have no prize for me. Shall my feet of clay break against this unforgiving tarmac? Shall you not take my life?
But He who began a good work in us shall bring our journey to completion, and then our joy shall be complete. We only run in the race chosen for us, in the way so as to obtain imperishable crowns. Our feet, worn from walking, running and cycling, shall then be swift and beautiful to bring the gospel of peace.
Till then, we have one another, the wind in my hair, and You by my side. I can neither see nor touch You- my hair is mangled with my tears of joy-but how my heart burns on this long brick road. Oh, how it burns.
We’re on the road and on our knees,
walking, still.