you're ready for God when...

There was a time years ago, when I felt as if God was encouraging me to run distances - it's like meditation. There has proven to be something to that. The long runs are hard work, but there is a rhythm to them that lends itself to a sweep-down of my mind.

The sweep-down uncovers diverse stuff - to-do lists, filth, needy family and friends, logic, prejudice, jokes, curses...

It is one thing to be alone with those thoughts and to let them find their way in and out of my awareness. It's another thing to acknowledge the reality that God is along for the run (and there in every other part of my life!) and to observe those thoughts as if turning the pages of a catalog.

Doing so shines a different light on the to-do lists, those in need, my prejudices...

It's not that my thoughts are constantly on Him or that my train of thought is under constant joint-scrutiny. But as things come to mind and standout when I run, I have a sense that He has shined a light on them and I can see them for what they are and respond accordingly - shake my head in confession, or throw my arms out in prayer, or just keep chugging and mulling.

Iget to this place more easily while running than in anything else I do.

I'm not sure why, but it might have something to do with getting to the bottom of something inside myself. On a grand scale, there are a number of great examples of this in the Bible. Moses remained on the mountain forty days without food or drink as he received the law from God. Elijah walked forty days in the wilderness before he heard the still small voice of God. Jesus fasted in the wilderness for forty days before He began His ministry.

I don't mean to put a forty minute run in the same league with their forty days. But I think there is a parallel. That is, Moses, Elijah and Jesus drained themselves to be filled. I can only guess that there was an aspect of reaching the bottom of their human reserves but being buoyed with a new and different sort of filling up. I wonder if we get a small taste of that when we run.

Here's an example. I have recently been taking Jon and Betsy Hughes' (http://www.trackshack.com/) advice in trying to lengthen my runs. Last Tuesday, I ventured 2 1/4 miles from home before turning back. It had been months since I ran 4.5 miles. It felt good to be going the distance, but it was taking close to everything I had. I was churning along but about at the end of my stamina when I was about five minutes from home. It was at that time, that I was reminded of my children and all the question marks that remain in their future. There on the sidewalk beside Par Street, I could do nothing but throw out my arms and turn my face up to heaven and shout, "Lord - my family!"

I had a sense that He knew exactly what I meant - I didn't have to explain or elaborate the prayer. I also had a sense of being naked to the world - traffic was passing me in both directions and there I was running with my arms out, eyes closed, shouting at the sky (and no Bluetooth to blame it on).

For whatever reason, I don't pray that way - at the top of my lungs and from the bottom of my soul - in my quiet time (good thing, my family might say). Why is that? Perhaps it has something to do with reaching the end of my strength.

Peter Lord said, you're ready for Jesus when your desperation factor exceeds your embarassment factor. AA says the first two steps to change are to realize where your power ends and that a higher power can help. There is something about reaching the end of our strength that makes us ready for God.

I think I see this in a friend and co-worker. The other day, he stopped by my office to talk about our jobs and the question of how secure they are in this economy. Then he got quite emotional and asked me, "How do you..." But he couldn't finish the question for fear he would break down. "Do you mind if we step outside?" he asked. So we did.

The question he'd been trying to ask me was, how do you be strong for your family when your own inner strength is used up. He showed all the signs of a guy who is spent. You could tell he'd poured tremendous energy into his wife and two young kids to the point that he felt he didn't have any more to give. He thought he was showing weakness to reach this point - and worse to admit it. He couldn't believe that he himself was breaking down - as if to say, this sort of thing happens to other guys but not to him. And I think he thought that I had never reached that point myself.

I probably did a lousy job of it, but I tried to explain that he was ready for God. That if he had poured his energy out for his family then Jesus was probably proud of him. That if we keep our eyes on the author and perfector of our faith, then we will love our wives "as Christ loved the church, pouring Himself out for her." We will reach the end of our strength - and that's when we can and should turn to God.

The character of Eric Liddell said it better than I can in Chariots of Fire. In one of the great short sermons, he says that the strength to run "a straight race" is found within. If we look for Jesus there, He promises, "Ye shall ever surely find Me."

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHT_nvaTXXk