Tonight is perfect. It is an absolutely flawless Texas evening, made to be soaked up and held on to. So I laced up my tennis shoes and hit the road.

A few minutes in, the beauty of it struck me. I wasn’t thinking about anything. Just the sound of my feet hitting the pavement. My heartbeat. A few cars passing by. An older woman walking her two dogs.

This miraculous thing happens when I run. All of the clutter goes away. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why so many people experience what they call runner’s high. Maybe it’s not even about the endorphins or any chemical reaction. Maybe it’s because, for many of us, our minds and spirits are terrorized by a constant stream of voices, and for those few moments, it becomes possible to just let it go. To focus on something simple–putting one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, in front of the other.

After my run, I found myself lying on the cold pavement of the driveway, thinking about how running often leads me to crave the simple things. Silence. A glass of water. A cool place to lie down in. A shower. Writing. Reading. Maybe this sounds crazy, but it happens every single time.

Life is too chaotic. We have perfected chaos and busyness and noise, and then glorified it. Silence freaks us out. Calm makes us feel as though we’re missing something. Sitting still seems unproductive. This is not a world that makes it easy to find a quiet place.

I’m working on creating a quiet place. On being a quiet place. On that beautiful word, Sabbath; the one that we like to reduce to two hours on a Sunday morning that sill feels so far from what the Creator did on the seventh day.

The world needs Sabbath.

I need Sabbath.


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