I was running the loop around the park near my brother’s house in Tucson when the thought crossed my mind.
If I were to bump into him on the street today would I be able to say hello…would I go so far as to give him a hug hello?
The thought invaded my happy little morning run like a side stitch. And, as the song By Your Side played through my ear buds, I silently answered my own thought…no, I couldn’t do that.
Why did that thought come to mind, Lord? Why now…after all these years?
And then I looked up. I was jogging right by the bank, right by the bank where he was arrested for the first time.
Every time I come back to town and drive by it again, I can feel all those red warning lights going off in my heart again. Get out. Get out now. I didn’t heed the warnings. I stayed and watched as those initial red lights eventually became a way of life. I spent a decade riding through life on an out of control roller coaster.
My son occasionally asks me why I don’t like roller coasters. I don’t know how to explain to him that once you get off one you fearfully chose to ride for years, the last thing you want to do is step back on another one.
As I rounded the corner and finished the last leg of my run back to my brother’s house my heart cried out again
I’m sorry, Lord. I’m not there yet.
This extravagant grace you offer us, those warm undeserved embraces you continually give us…how do you do it?
Keep working on me, Lord.