Re-blogged from: Connect-Engage-Inspire
When I moved to Washington, DC, it took me a while to get used to all the walking. I desperately missed the convenience of a car. I would joke about forgetting how to drive whenever I was back in my home state of Iowa.
It was frustrating when I had to make the short walk up Massachusetts Avenue, loaded with groceries. It was inconvenient to have to get up even earlier on a Sunday morning so I could walk 35 minutes to church when the car ride would have taken 10. Somehow, I felt like Washington was taking away all of my freedom.
But my bitterness slowly faded, and I grew to love those walks. I loved noticing the subtle changes in the color of the trees lining my way to church. I still laugh at the thought of the old man outside the Catholic church who told me he liked my boots and then proceeded to tell me what seemed like his life story.
I loved adventures into the city just for a day of exploring. Don’t get me wrong, I still loved driving, but I’d begun to value the time spent observing and interacting with things around me rather than watching them zip past in my peripheral vision.
Those 35-minute walks to and from the church became especially valuable. Sometimes I’d even graciously turn down someone’s offer to drive me back so I could walk instead. That time alone each week was perfect for thinking and simply being with God.
The best way I can describe my walk with Jesus is that he is decidedly quiet. Frustrating, yes, but I know why. Naturally, his silence makes me consider what it is that needs to be said. What I need to say.
I’m fairly shy, but slowly I begin to open up, revealing deeper and deeper thoughts. Before long, I’m bubbling with questions, thoughts, and ideas. All the while, he stays quiet, allowing my mind to work through these things as I express them. Sometimes all I need is that listening ear and comforting presence.
He walks with me, but he also makes me stop and look around. Occasionally, I am overcome by the simple beauty of the moment I’m in, whether it’s watching the waves crash at the beach, having a conversation with a stranger, or listening to junior high campers praying for each other.
In these moments of awareness, I know he is there.
I choose to follow Jesus because he is always introducing me to experiences and people who challenge and add to my understanding of our world. I love that choosing to follow Jesus is not an event, but a process. My walk with Jesus never ends and might not always be easy, but that’s what makes it beautiful.
There’s always something to appreciate about the journey.