Unhurried

I love driving my little Honda Civic stick shift. There’s just something about hand and clutch that makes me feel connected with the road. It can be tedious in traffic, but on smooth, winding country roads, it’s the best. 

The drive to my mechanic is on one such road, and early Monday morning I enjoyed driving to a scheduled repair. Living only a few miles away and with the promise of such a beautiful morning, I decided to walk back home, rather than trouble anyone for a ride.

I’ve driven that stretch of road a hundred times. It has the lazy hills, the turns, and a free-flowing stream where I often spy turkey, deer, or blue heron. I looked forward to experiencing on foot what I’d always enjoyed behind the wheel. 

Dropping my keys in the mechanic’s drop box, I set out through the parking lot and crossed the road, where someone immediately honked at me. That kind of killed my cheery mood, but, still, I smiled and waved, guessing I hadn’t moved fast enough for that early morning commuter. 

A few minutes later I found myself at a much larger intersection with cars stacked up at the signal light just before the highway. So, I read the lights determining the best moment to make a run for it. No crosswalks here, which probably explained why so many eyes were glued on me. The lights changed and, glancing both directions, I took off quickly. Again, not quickly enough as someone gave me another annoying blast of the horn. Sheesh, I was just out for a leisurely walk home, but I smiled and waved, only slightly irritated. 

Over the next hour, however, I purposefully walked alongside a smaller, more inviting two-lane road, looking at things I’d only seen at 35 mph or more. Today was different; I had intentionally taken the slowest way home, experiencing what was familiar at a different speed.

Amazingly, I was well winded as I traipsed to the top of that long, lazy hill. I hadn’t given it a thought in the car, as it was like the first hill of a favorite roller coaster. I had to take a breather at the top. Traffic sounds were far behind, yet the chatter of squirrels and songbirds were all around me. Funny, I’d never noticed that before, even driving with windows down.

I never realized how much debris is discarded and strewn on the soft shoulders of our public roads. I’d noticed random trash, but the amount was surprising. However, the side spaces of private residences or parks were free and clean. I mostly walked the edges of public roads, and lost count of how many empty cans and bottles I saw. I did bonus-out by finding a dollar bill, a quarter and three pennies, however, something I’d never have seen while driving. 

At last, I was arriving at the section of road near a stream, my favorite part. Though I usually reduced my speed here while driving, it only took a few seconds to pass, and I would wrench my neck to see what could be seen.

"Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed."

Luke 5:16

This day was sweet; I moved slowly, and while I didn’t see any unique wildlife, I was able to linger at the stream’s edge and listen to the water tripping over rocks. I noticed the cry of a hawk circling high overhead. It all brought back memories of laughter as my own kids played and splashed in such a place.

I enjoyed thinking, sometimes talking, all the time praying on my leisurely stroll home, and that made all the difference.

You know, there are places in God you can’t get to without long, unhurried times with Him. In fact, I think it’s the secret sauce to an authentic life with God. It’s what Jesus did regularly (Luke 5:16; 6:12-13; Matthew 14:1-13) and it drew the attention of His disciples and those that followed Him. 

Someone once said, “If you want a life like Jesus lived, you must do the things that Jesus did.” I like that, as it’s essentially what Jesus has invited us to do. 

The last several months I’ve been taking some online classes from a friend and teacher, Allen Hood. His passion for prayer and gift of teaching stirs my desire for God in such deep and rich ways. It did 20 years ago when we spent a season in Kansas City at the International House of Prayer, where he also served, and it does today. The timeless truths and sold-out lifestyle call to the best parts within. It feels like walking a familiar road, that I often travel too quickly.

What familiar pathways need refreshing in your life? Do you need to put your keys in the drop box, and walk back home with the Lord? Walk on.