Shall We Run?

For those of you who know me, you know that I am not a runner.  I would much rather take a nice, long walk (although my brother says I always speed walk) than go for a run.  Maybe that's reflective of my enjoyment in thinking deeply on things, my tendency to analyze before making decisions, and my overall natural bent to be cautious.  Maybe it shows that I need to take my time to work through difficulties and decisions on my own.  Maybe it's a demonstration that I am not very good at trusting.

And yet, lately, I've been hearing this little thought over and over again.  It's a steady, quiet whisper: "Shall we run?"

An interesting question for me, isn't it?  For the girl who hates to run and who likes to work on her own, I want to say no, right away.  Yet, a part of me refuses to let me deny the request.  A part of me wants to run, the rush headlong into a new adventure, to trust blindly without worrying through my insecurities and questionings.  Deep within me, a soft, whisper responds, "yes!"

For the last couple of weeks, I've become more and more aware of myself and my tendencies.  And I've realized that a lot of those tendencies are stopping me from moving ahead, from gaining speed.  Instead of being disappointed in myself, as I would tend to be, I've been hearing this voice asking me, "shall we run? Will you run with me?"  This is my opportunity to say, "yes," to forge ahead into personal areas of growth, to geographical areas unknown, into cultures unfamiliar, and to inevitable sacrifices of comfort and caution.

Although I've been in MATUL (Master of Arts in Transformational Urban Leadership) for a number of months, I've only just realized that I haven't truly trusted the Lord with the next two years.  I've been holding onto making my own plans, thinking and working through everything on my own.  And even more, I haven't trusted Him with what comes after the program ends.  I want to decide where I will go, what I will do, who I will become, and what my own future holds.  I'm not trusting that He will direct me as I go.  When He asks me to run with Him, He doesn't tell me where we are running, or even where we begin.  He simply asks if I will come with Him, implying that I must trust that He knows where to go.

So, will I choose to trust Him?  Will I choose to set aside my analyzing and self-preserving caution?  Will I choose to run?

I think, perhaps, I shall.