Life on the Move

Life. Its ebb and flow is always something I try not to be surprised by. 'Try' being the operative word. Afterall, God doesn't make it a secret that He often has us waiting, waiting, waiting until suddenly, "Go!" But that 'go' is always somehow, surprising, even so. I suppose it's a bit like a slow-motion scene from the movie Chariots of Fire. We watch as the racers dig the holes their feet will gain leverage from for 'take-off'. We see them bending down and taking their positions, feeling out just the right amount of weight to place on their hands and on their legs. Then they inhale. Exhale. Their brows furrow as they look down the lane, calculating their every move. They know what is coming. Then again, they don't. They will run. But will they succeed?

Then someone says, 'ready, on your mark . . ., ' and that's when eternity seems to begin. Briefly their eyes close as they drink in the reality that it's about to be. Only this 'briefly' holds within it so much weight, you can almost feel the blood pumping through their veins, their thoughts narrowing down to absolute focus. Time slows and suddenly you find yourself hanging with them as if in mid-air, suspended in something that feels unendending. Will it ever come?

'Bang!'

The shot that never fails to startle. The prepared runner. The attuned viewer. The most avid follower. We all take a jolt when the finger presses the trigger.

Maybe it's the burst of energy that it produces that is, at least, one of the primary purposes for that unending moment of 'wait.' I know that's how I've felt in the last days, after hearing the final 'go' in my own life to move. I knew it was coming. Could actually begin to see down the track as I peered into the ever-nearing future. But as always, there was that wee moment . . . the lull before the storm, the exaggerated beat of the heart, the hanging in-mid-air. I think everything in me, muscles, mind, spirit, was standing at attention. Tense. Ready.

So when the 'go' came, well, now it's all engines 'on!' Emails. Phone calls. Taxes. Boxes. Lists to go here and go there. Cancel this and organize that, pack, pack, pack . . . no stopping til' you reach the finish line.

And what will be the end result of this particular finish line (my move)? I am so excited about what is coming. But that question will probably never leave until I'm there and I can smell, taste, touch, hear, and see what God has in store. The way I keep running, even as the question interrupts me like my need for more air, is the only thing that keeps anybody running. The finish line--or more importantly what is waiting at the finish line.

Or, in this case, who is waiting at the finish line. The promise I have to hold onto is that which tells me that when I arrive, Jesus will be there. And it is that knowledge that brought me to the starting line in the first place (hearing His call to go). It's that knowledge that had me crouching on my knee, praying my way into the right starting position. It's that knowledge that held me as I waited in that 'unending' moment for the shot to fire. And it's that knowledge that will see me cross into the new season and the new things He has waiting there.

"Keep your eyes on Jesus, for He is the author and the finisher of your faith . . . " (Hebrews 12:2). Thank God for the race He's given us to run!