MY FIRST PORTION of memorized Scripture came at an age when I did not even realize that I was quoting the Bible. Sometimes I knelt at my bedside, sometimes I was laying under the covers, but all the time my mom was there, making sure I said it correctly and covered all the bases. Of course I learned it in the ancient language of King James Bible (circa 1611).

Our Father, who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy name,
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil:
For Thine is the kingdom, and the power
and the glory, forever. Amen.

I wasn’t too sure what “hallowed” meant, or who those people were that were trespassing on our property, but all that aside, it has been a prayer that has served me well.
It was not until years later that I saw this prayer within the context that Jesus taught it, and it was years after that I began to understand the deep implications of its words. Now, even today, I wrestle with this rather simple, unadulterated prayer which the Lord Jesus taught His followers. I struggle with the consequences of a Kingdom that comes and a will that is done. I am humbled by the amount of bread I have blessed to consume and the trespasses I have been forgiven. And I am challenged by the trespasses to forgive and the temptations to fight.
Yet, I am thankful for a Christ-given prayer that reminds me that I have a Father who hears. And so, whether on my knees, or wrapped in my covers, or strolling down a redwood shaded path, I still am given to pray, ”Our Father…”

BACK STORY, it is the part of the television coverage of the Olympics that grabs us maybe even than the spectacular finishes — those stories of Herculean effort that surround so many of the Olympic participants. The stories of troubled childhoods and tragic mishaps that give way to glorious over-comings which then produce the individuals we watch performing on our televisions. It’s not the event, but the journey, that makes the Olympic story so Olympic.
One of the signature events of the Olympics is the marathon and the ancient event which started it all was a battle caused journey. Phidippides, a member of the Greek army who were in battle against the Persians around 500 BC, was called upon to run to Athens (26 miles away) to carry the news of the victory over the Persians and the warning about the approaching Persian ships. And this 26 miles was preceded by his running between Athens and Sparta, about 280 miles round trip, just day before. Oh yes, the battle was fought on the plains of Marathon. See, the back story always adds to the event.
This year’s Olympics will no doubt be filled with many such stories. They will bring tears to our eyes, hope to our hearts, and most likely cheers to our lips. The story drives the event.
The Apostle Paul had an incredible “back story.” Of good training, schooling, prestige, but also of darkness, hatred, doubts. The Apostle used his story not as an excuse or hindrance, but as an opportunity to show forth God’s mercy and grace. Yet, Paul knew that his past was just that, his past. His eyes were always firmly set on the prize. As he wrote to the Philippians, “But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (3:13-14)
May our stories push us on. May we run to win.

IT NEVER FAILS. There I am driving the 50 MPH speed limit on Highway 17, cresting the summit and I spy Mr. CHP sitting along the side of the road. Immediately I lightly depress my brakes, check the speedometer, and breath a sigh of relief…yes I am still doing the speed limit. Why is that whenever I see one of California’s finest, I immediately feel guilty? It must be something to do with my driving past.
I am sure that I am not the only driver on our roads that has this reaction. And truthfully, it does have some positive outcomes. First, it causes me to check my speed and slow down if necessary, and second, it leads me to prayer, “Dear God, please don’t let me get a ticket!” Or as a friend of my once prayed (while a passenger in my car), “Lord, You made blind eyes to see, how about this time making seeing eyes blind.” Actually, that prayer worked…at least that time! Anyway…
All this talk about driving and praying makes me think that since we are so good at driving and talking, and since we’re not supposed to talk on our cell phones while driving (praise the Lord for that law!), maybe we could pray for those men and women in tan rather than praying about them. We could start a new regimen. We could pray the C. H. P. prayer: Christ Help Please! Whenever we see an officer we could pray that the Lord would keep them safe, that He would help them do their job, and maybe (especially if we’re doing the speed limit) we could lift a prayer of thanks for those who seek to “keep the peace” in our world. Both far and wide.
So, let’s not only slow down, let’s pray up!

GROWING UP, SUNDAYS WERE SPECIAL. They meant Saturday night baths, and shoes shined. It meant tight collars and clip-on ties. It meant an interminable time of sitting quietly in the sanctuary and a raucous hour of fun with my friends during Sunday school. But most of it often meant going out for “brunch” at the Copper Penny.
I am sure that we went to this local restaurant at other times, but ah, the glorious Sunday brunch. Waffles, or my favorite, Pigs-in-a-blanket, yes, Sunday was a special time of eating-out. A time with mom and dad, and even my brother would show up for those times. Back in the day, Sundays were special, hey, even the newspaper comics came in color!
Sure, the Sunday “funnies” are still in color, (but what kid can understand them anymore? ) and we can still go out for “brunch.” But, sadly it’s often to the same places we frequent other times during the week (Ouch! I’m getting convicted! ) Sundays have changed. In many ways they are like any other day.
But, we can change that!
Maybe it is time to once again strive to make that day, a Special Day. Maybe we can start to get ourselves ready with anticipation for the Day. It may mean setting aside time the evening before to slow down and prepare our hearts (or shine our shoes). It may mean planning for some special things on that Day; a special meal at a special place. It may mean opening our hearts and homes to family and friends; a time to reinvest in our special relationships. And, of course, it will always mean taking time to be refreshed and renewed in the relationship that truly makes this Special Day, special.
How will you make today a Special Day?

REST IN PEACE. Why is it that we wait until a person is dead and buried to engrave that epithet over their resting place? I suppose it comes from the understanding that all that can interrupt peace has now been removed from a person’s life. It is now, in death, that one can truly be at peace.
This is not the life which the Lord, Jesus Christ, desires for us. He desires for us to live in a life of peace that was not just “there and then,” but “here and now.” The peace that the world brings is a peace that is at best transient and situational, and at worst never truly possible. But the peace that Jesus promises, and provides, is unlike that of the world. It is a peace that is always available and not determined by our circumstances. It is, as the Apostle Paul writes, a peace that surpasses comprehension. (Philippians 4:7)
The Hebrew word, shalom, best describes this peace which our Lord offers to us. It is more than just the absence of trouble, it is a well-being of our soul in the very midst of turmoil and trouble, and for this reason is transcends the world’s ability to understand it. Like Sabbath, this peace is a gift which the Lord graciously grants to us out of His abundant goodness. And, like Sabbath, it has at its basis, trust in the living God.
As we learn to trust God, we learn to embrace the greatness of His gifts to us. As long as we continue to endeavor in our own wisdom and strength we will miss the deep and abiding peace that comes from the Lord and we will be stuck with the weak peace of the world.
Trust in the Lord, and know peace.

WELL, OK, IT’S NOT AS SPECTACULAR as the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but we can say we were “far-away witnesses” to the re-visioning of what the Evangelical Free Church of America says it believes. And it should make us feel good that the 18 sermons on the Proposed Statement of Faith, were not wasted. 
The following is the email announcement I received from HQ. I share it here because we need to remind ourselves that we are part of something bigger than just the Felton Bible Church. It is also good to note that people can disagree and still move forward united for the furtherance of God’s glory and kingdom. Here’s the report:

HISTORIC CONFERENCE APPROVES
PROPOSED REVISION OF THE EFCA STATEMENT OF FAITH
President Bill Hamel began this historic discussion by asking two questions: would the Conference affirm a new Statement of Faith strengthening our commitment to evangelical, historic faith? And would we debate and vote with godly character? The answer to both questions was “yes.”
On June 26, 2008, delegates of the 124th EFCA National Leadership Conference approved the Proposed Revision of the Statement of Faith – 86% of delegates voted for the Proposed Revision.
Throughout the debate and decision, God’s presence was evident as delegates kept in step with the Spirit (Gal. 5:25), manifested the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23), and left an aroma of Christ (2 Cor. 2:14-16).
The conference concluded with President Hamel leading the attendees in a strong and passionate confession of the new EFCA Statement of Faith. Here is a link to the Statement of Faith: http://www.efca.org/about/doctrine/
To God be the glory, great things He has done . . . and continues to do in the EFCA!

And may to God be the glory in all we do, by His Spirit’s leading and power, here at Felton Bible Church.

PENNIES, NICKELS, DIMES, QUARTERS, were dumped by the handful into our offering buckets during our week of Vacation Bible School. The purpose of their abundant giving was so that we could help purchase Bibles for the people of the Congo, in Africa. This giving was all part of our search for God’s Supernatural Treasure, the search for truth, and of course that truth was found in God’s Word.
Each morning Cordy Dixon, our Bible Story Lady, would tell the children great stories from God’s Word, and it was there that they discovered that God’s Word is to be not only listened to, but obeyed. We also learned that this Super Natural Treasure was something not to be hidden, but to be shared with the whole world, and thus our missions project to raise funds for Bibles.
While I was researching the Bible distribution project I came across some interesting information. Each Bible that we help supply costs about $9.00 to get into the hands of someone longing for the written Word of God. That $9.00 represents about 3.5% of their annual earnings. Now here’s the part that really grabbed me; using the percentage for our annual per capita income here in the USA, that same Bible would cost us about $735.00!!! You see why this project is so important? Even if the Bible was there for them to purchase it would be out of the reach of most.
The money which the children graciously gave this past week will help put God’s Supernatural Treasure into the hands, and hearts, of many who are desperately searching for it. Please join me in praying that their investment will yield a hundred-fold return. Amen!

BACK IN MY JESUS PEOPLE DAYS, we used to sing a little chorus that went something like,

Life was filled guns and war
And everyone got trampled on the floor
I wished we’d all been ready…
There’s no time to change your mind
The Son has come
And you’ve been left behind

What it lacked in musicality, it made up for in relatively good mid-trib, premillennial theology. Hey, it even lead to a good title for a series of eschatological novels, if not at least a bunch of “you’d-better-get-your-life-together” sermons.
But this little ditty, and the sermons and books related to it’s theme, often left us so caught in the fear of being “left behind” that we would often walk right by those who were. To put it another way, we were so concerned about Jesus’ future return that we forgot His present reign. It’s subtle, but it makes a difference in how we live our lives, today.
This subtle difference can lead to our focus of ministry as a local church. It defines the relationship between prayer and practice, between doctrine and doing. When faced with fires racing over ridges, destroying homes and displacing families, our doctrine calls us to pray, but it must also call us to act. As those who hope in His promised return, we are therefore those who must pray with our eyes wide open. Not just so we will see His return, but so we can respond to His reign.
Come to think of it, we have been left behind, and left behind on purpose. I invite you to join us as we pursue fulfilling the purpose for which we have been left behind.

THE LABEL ON THE BAG OF STARBUCKS© coffee read:

Kopelani Blend
A blend of African, Latin American,
And 10% Kona Coffees
Juicy and Refined

As I contemplated what the aroma and taste of this new coffee blend might be my thoughts were drawn to an exciting reality taking place in Christendom. The reality involves the moving of Christianity’s “center of gravity,” from the northern hemisphere to the south. Christianity’s center has always been on the move.
It started in what we now know as the Middle East and progressed to the north and to the west, settling for centuries in Europe and then, at least the Protestant brand, migrated across The Pond, and found a welcoming home on the shores of the New World. But now we are discovering that the mission and theological middle is moving to the south and east, settling places like the Orient, Africa and Latin America. In fact, if you think that most evangelicals are white and know Rick Warrren of Saddleback Church, you’d be wrong. Maybe the new Starbucks© blend is prophetic. 
I am excited about this new movement. (Though not everyone joins me in that excitement). I believe this movement will add new depth and flavor to the church. The church in the southern hemisphere, as Richard Starcher (previous Free Church missionary) pointed out in a recent article in the Biola Magazine, the African church brings a strong mixture of reformed theological understanding and a charismatic worship-life. It is a church that is flourishing in the midst of great trial and tragedy, and out of that crucible a vibrant church is growing. And we have much to learn from these brothers and sisters.
Care to sample a new cup?

I AM NOT SURE WHAT THE COMMERCIAL is actually selling, but I detest it nonetheless. All I know is that there are six people, each yelling, “It’s my money and I want it now!!!” The commercial strikes me wrong at so many levels, but mostly it is the yelling and the demand for that which they are entitled. According to the principle in the commercial it is their money and they are entitled to it, but adults screaming out the window is nothing less than childish.
The mannerism of a young child is often that of impatient entitlement. They see something they desire, and they want that toy or cookie or attention right now! We can maybe understand this action in a very young toddler, but as a child reaches the pre-school age we cringe when we encounter a child in the midst of a temperamental tantrum regarding their “rights” to a certain item. Attach this action to a full-grown adult and it borders on tragic.
We live in a culture that promotes this instant entitlement. We are told that we can have whatever we want, whenever we want it, whether or not we can even afford it. Don’t believe me, then just ask any number of the thousands of people who are finding their homes in foreclosure, their cars repossessed, or their financial lives in the throes of bankruptcy.
Sadly, the results of this impatient entitlement is not more but less. This manner of life is spiritually impoverishing. Rather than full, we find ourselves empty. It is not what God desires for us. He desires to give us so much more, but this giving comes with a caveat, we must wait.
We must wait upon Him who is our hope. We are called to patient peace that comes to us as we remember that God is the giver of every good and perfect gift. (James 1:17) To wait upon Him is to experience His gracious care, for He who did not spare His own Son, will surely give us all good things. (Romans 8:32) Not because we are entitled, but because God is good.

I FIRST ENCOUNTERED F.O.B. while attending the Camper in Leadership Training (C.I.L.T.) program at Mount Hermon Christian Conference Center’s Redwood Camp. The acronym F.O.B. stood for Flat on Back or Flat on Bunk. It described the time, right after lunch, when all campers were required to take a period of rest. In retrospect I came to see that it was a time more for the counselors, than for the campers. But whatever the underlying motive, its direct purpose was to get everybody to stop, rest, and get ready for the fun-filled (and often exhausting) afternoon events at Redwood Camp. Whoever designed F.O.B. should get a medal!
God, in His divine wisdom, created a F.O.B. for His children. In the Scriptures, it’s called Sabbath. The Heavenly Father knew that we, His children, would need regular “time-outs” lest we live lives that would lead us to a God-imposed time-out in the corner. God’s creation of Sabbath, as our Lord Jesus Christ pointed out (Mark 2:27) was for our own good. It was something that we all need on a very regular basis. Sabbath is not a curse, it is a celebration of God’s provision, peace and presence.
This week begins a month-long Sacred F.O.B. for me, but this very graciously offered sabbatical is more than just a month of hammock swinging F.O.B. It is designed to be a time for consciously, consistently sitting at the feet of the Master. (Luke 10:38-42) It is a time for long periods of prayer and study. A time, like the F.O.B.’s of Redwood Camp, will hopefully prepare me for the exciting and exhausting days of ministry which lay ahead. Thank you for allowing me this very important time with the Lord.
Speaking of rest, you can rest assured that in my absence the work of the Kingdom will continue on here at FBC. God has provided some great brothers and sisters to carry on the work, to preach His Word, and to minister to your need. Rest in His provision and enjoy both His peace and presence.
And as we said in the 70’s, “I’ll see ya, Here! There! Or in the Air!”

HONESTLY, who wouldn’t want to be known as a “man, or woman, of their word?” It is one of the highest forms of honor to be known as a person of your word.
This past week a dear brother, Bruce Rinkert, passed away. Bruce was a man of his word. Or maybe it is better written, Bruce was a man of His Word. From the time I met Bruce, more than 30 years ago, I have only known him to be a man who loved the Lord, and loved the Lord’s Word. Bruce was the first “real live Gideon” I ever met. I had heard about those faithful men who passed out Bibles and who made sure hotel bed stands contained a copy of the Holy Word, but Bruce was the first I had the pleasure to met face-to-face.
Bruce loved to not only make sure the Word of God got “placed,” but that the Word of God got shared as well. You could not have been in Bruce’s presence long before he was lovingly sharing of the love of God. Whether it was to the youth at the detention facility on Graham Hill Road, or at a restaurant, or in his own hospital room, he lived to tell the old, old story, in the newness of every moment.
Bruce’s life, as of late, was not an easy one. But to spend time with him was not to hear of his troubles, but to hear him ask about your life, and the members of your family. Bruce cared, and Bruce prayed. Like Moses, if you took time to notice, you could see that he had been to the Mountain of the Lord. Even in the aged brokenness of his body, the radiance of God shown.
I shall miss Bruce. His stories, his concern, his love for God, his prayers. I am thankful to have known Bruce, a man of His Word. Oh, that we would all continue his legacy.

WHEN THE TEMPERATURE COOLS to a balmy 95 degrees in the late evening, it’s time to move your sleeping gear outside. This is what my daughter, Krista does on those hot April nights in Burkina Faso. During the day the thermometer stretches to 110 in the shade, and then “cools” to the 90’s in the evening. When this happens Krista grabs her screen tent, sleeping pad and headlamp and settles down under her “hanger.” (think of a thatch-covered porch) It is a more comfortable way to sleep, but it’s not without its problems. Such was the case this past week.
In the middle of the night, while her head was filled with dreams of a pool-side retreat and an In-N-Out burger, she was awakened by a munching sound (and it was not her eating the burger). Peering into the darkness she made out the form of a huge bull. (Think Texas Long-Horn) It was enjoying her hanger as a midnight snack. (In-N-Out Burger Drive-thru, Bilam Perga style) Desirous of not frightening the evening intruder and becoming a dance floor for some crazed Burkinabe bull she made some rustling noises in hopes of discoursing her new roommate from any more evening consumption of her home. All turned out well.
So, what’s the lesson for us? (I haven’t the foggiest idea, but it’s a great story.) Truthfully, Krista’s midnight encounter reminds me of 1 Peter 5:8. “Your enemy, the Devil prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.” Since this is true, Peter implores us to keep alert…to sleep with one eye open, as it were. And if we hear him munching away at our home we are called to resist him, by standing firm in our faith.
Remember this truth; often just when we are finally resting, the danger comes. So stay alert!

WALKING WITH LINDA is one of the things I love most. It doesn’t matter too much where the walk takes place, though we both prefer traipsing through countryside that is less dominated by man-made structures. We can walk underneath the Redwoods, along West Cliff, or alongside a coastal meadow, it really doesn’t matter, it’s just the joy of walking together.

Sometimes we talk about work or family, sometimes we chat about life in general, and sometimes we just stroll together in quietness, soaking in both the silence and the scenery. Of course there are the moments of, “Hey, did you see that?” or “Take a look at this,” or “Why must people drop their trash!” Walking together allows us to see and learn in ways that would not be possible if we were to walk alone.

As disciples of Jesus Christ we are also on a walk, a journey if you like. A journey on which we do not travel alone. It is a journey in which we walk with the Spirit of God. Sometime the walk takes us through very mundane places, while at other times we meander through gorgeous countryside, and every once in awhile we traverse some dangerous places, but we never travel alone.

When we walk with the Holy Spirit we may travel in silence, or we may have a rip-roaring conversation. We may talk about life, or He might just point out the life that surrounds you.

Whatever it is, as we walk with the Spirit, our journey will become one God-sighting after another. As we travel the road before us, with the Spirit within us, we will often hear Him declare, “Hey, did you see that? That was God!”

Anyone care to take a walk?

UNLESS YOU KNEW TO LOOK you would have missed it. Even knowing to look was no guarantee that you would see it. But, there it was, floating across the night sky, a small pinkish light, quite unassuming really, the International Space Station, in all its glory.
Wednesday evening, after our men’s Bible Study, we were conversing in church parking lot when someone said, “Hey, there it is.” Looking upward we all focused upon that tiny illuminated dot hurling across our portion of the night sky at a approximant speed of 17,500 miles per hour. Had we not been alerted to its potential arrival over our area (thanks, Duane) and had we not been gazing heavenward at the correct time, we would have missed it. Sure there wasn’t much to see, but the “cool factor” was still pretty high.
Jesus was once having a discussion about the final days, the days which would usher in God’s kingdom in its fullest measure. He told His followers to be alert, to be watching, for the “signs of the times,” and when they saw these “signs” to lift up their heads and look toward the heavens for their redemption would be drawing near. (Luke 21)
Jesus has made it clear to us, His followers, that He is returning, and that there would be evidences that would point to His return. He said there would be time for Bible study, and time for chatting in the parking lot, but we should also be keeping an eye to the sky, anticipating His promised return, and unlike the International Space Station, His return will not be just some momentary passing across a star-lit sky.
As we study and chat, wait and wonder, we are given the task of telling of Christ’s promised return. We have been given the charge to help direct eyes heavenward, in eager expectancy of the coming King of kings.
Are you looking up?

THE CALL STILL ECHOES ACROSS THE PLAYGROUND, “I call Do-Overs!” It’s that magical phrase one utters when they have served the ball badly in games like four-square. Many a game has been saved through the declaration of those power-infused words.
Two-thousand years ago another set of power-infused set of words were uttered, words that would forever change the course of not only history, but time itself. Those words were, “He is not here, He has risen!” In some sense it was the God injected “Do-Over.” In, and through, the resurrection of Jesus, the Messiah, from the dead, God was declaring that we were given the grace-filled opportunity to start over again from all the previous bad starts.
Through the death of Jesus Christ upon the Cross the penalty of our sin was paid, and through His resurrection we have been granted new life. Jesus Himself has proclaimed, “Because I live, you too shall live.” (John 14:19) For those who place their faith, trust, hope, belief in the Person of Jesus a divine “do-over” is granted. The blessed gift of God’s grace is bestowed, and a new life is started. The Apostle Paul wrote, “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)
Are you in need of a “Do-Over” in your life? God’s gracious gift is still offered to you. There is no better day than today to receive that gift and begin anew.
The ball is in your court.

LIVING IN A FOG is not always a bad thing.
When a fog settles down upon our little valley a unique event takes place. Trees, usually lost among the forest, now stand in singular relief against the gray curtain of early morning mist. That which was once not seen, is now noticed. Though we often understand fog as that which obscures our sight, in reality it can help us to see.
A fog can also settle upon us emotionally. Our spirits feel damp and sullen, we move forward unsure of that which lies before us. We find ourselves living somewhere between the light of a new morning and the lingering night. But, just like the shroud that sometimes settles upon our valley, a spiritual and emotional fog can help us to see things in new relief.
The foggy days of our lives are times for us to focus upon that which we can see rather on that which we cannot. It is an opportunity for us to search more intently and to listen more carefully, for it may be during these times of shadow that we experience the closeness of God. It is often in the darkened gardens of prayer that the assurance of God’s presence can be felt most distinctly. As our Lord Jesus taught us through His prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, calling out to God from the darkness and doubt of our lives allows us to see in stark relief that which was hidden in plain sight.
When faced with an encompassing fog, allow it to quiet your spirit, refocus the eyes of your heart, and see the God who is there.

CRESTING THE HILL ON QUAIL HOLLOW road I was amazed to see the green expanse of grassy parkland in the distance. Bright, beautiful, rising terraces of spring-time green, this park-like setting beckoned me on. But wait! That’s no park, that’s the dump! (Now euphemistically referred to as “The Ben Lomond Transfer Station.”)
Underneath those verdant hills lay years of garbage. Some of it mine. The sculptured seeded somewhat appealing scene may have looked inviting on the surface, but the death and decay which lie beneath could no doubt make your toes curl. You can dress it up, rename it, but it’s still the dump.
As I pondered this uneasy reality I wondered if the landscape before me was a picture of my own life. On the surface things look almost park-like, while underneath garbage abounded. Not a pretty thought, and not unlike the Lord Jesus’ comments to the Pharisees about being white-washed tombs full of dead man’s bones. (Matthew 23:27) Yet, there is a grand and wonderful difference between the Ben Lomond Transfer Station and myself; it is the all-sufficient sacrifice of Jesus Christ upon the Cross. The Word of God reminds us that the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin, not just the surface stuff, but down to the dredges! (1 John 1:7-9) What a glorious truth!
It is this deep, from the inside out, cleaning, that allows us to flourish. The garbage of sin is replaced by the growth-causing presence of the Holy Spirit. The work of Christ was not just to make us look better, or to dress us up, but to completely, radically change us from deep within. We are a new creation! (2 Corinthians 5:17)
Now, there’s a reason to celebrate!

ONE WOMAN’S SLOW IS another man’s fast. This was brought home to me this past week at the first early morning gathering of the “Runners Club” at the National Pastor’s Convention in San Diego. As we gathered to stretch and pray and set out on the morning’s course, our fearless leader told us that she was not a fast runner and the pace would be something we could all handle. I should have known better. As I sized up my group of fellow runners, of which I was one of the oldest and roundest, I should have known that her idea of a slow pace and mine were minutes apart.
In the cool of that San Diego morning we took off at a conversational pace, that is as long as you only wanted to speak a word every ten seconds or so while sucking much needed air into your lungs. Thankfully, as the group of rabbits pulled away from this plodding pastor I was joined by another “conversationally-challenged” pastor-runner. Together we plodded on, sharing of our individual ministries between gasps for breath and prayers of help.
As we shared together we noticed that our other brothers and sisters were no longer insight, so much for looking out for the “weaker brother.” Being left behind can be a lonely place, thankfully, though left, I was not alone. Together we persevered, encouraging each other in the course before us. Such as it should be in the walk of faith, for all do not move at the same speed, and that’s OK.

WE’RE TOLD TO KEEP LOOKING UP. Well I have discovered a time when that adage is nigh impossible, or at least very dangerous. It’s when you’re running on a treadmill. When you’re moving along at a good speed on a treadmill you need to keep your eyes focused forward, or even downward, but turn your gaze to the side for any length of time, or heaven forbid you look up, and you’re a goner. Believe me, I know! Praise the Lord for safety bars!
The reality of running on a mechanical treadmill also holds true to running on the treadmill of life. You need to keep your eyes focused. Get distracted by what’s going on around you, let up for just a short moment, and you’ll find yourself flying out of control. This unrelenting reality of the treadmill poses a problem for those who would like to take some time and look up. For those who feel the call and the need to take a moment or two to gaze heavenward the treadmill of life can make that incredibly difficult, if not dangerous.
I suppose this is why God calls us to a Sabbath’s rest. A specific time of getting off the treadmill so that we can safely, and peacefully look up toward the God of heaven. Sadly, for many of us, we try to practice the discipline of Sabbath-Treadmilling. The result being…well, let’s just say it’s not a pretty sight. The Sabbath, as God created it, was to be a time of stopping, of getting off the treadmill, and resting in the presence and the care of a Lord who loves us. Not a bad idea, really. If you desire to know more about cultivating a Sabbath heart, check out Rick Tozer’s new Sunday morning class, I am sure he’ll point you in the right direction.
So, my treadmill friend, hit the off button, step off the contraption, and take the rest you need. You’ll be glad you did.