Do You Run?

I was raised in a mainline denominational church. We were one of the ones that allowed music (opening hymn, hymn in the middle, the Gloria Patri after collecting the offering, and the hymn after the sermon--right before the altar call). I still love the old hymns. But when I went off to college, I left "church" behind. It wasn't til I married and we had our first sweet baby that the stirrings of hunger for God came back into my life. After all, we were responsible for the spiritual life of this little person. It was almost five years before we acted on that hunger, but when we went back to church, something was different. I wanted more than the 3 hymn Sunday morning experience. I didn't know what it was, but there had to be something more.

We had been back in church for about 3 months (same mainline denomination; different city) when a new family moved into the area and joined the church. Our five year old DD and their six year old DD became instant best friends (and still are!) and the mom and I became best friends, too (and still are!) When she started a Tuesday morning women's Bible study, I jumped at the opportunity. And together we went to seminars and prayer meetings and crafting clubs--anywhere that women of faith were gathering.

I began to notice that at least part of the "something" I was looking for was in the way the women at these meetings worshipped. They raised their hands, they wept, they knelt or laid face down on the floor as the Spirit moved them. Let me tell you, we did NOT do that sort of thing in my mainline denomination church! My parents referred to that kind of people as "Holy Rollers". It was not a complimentary statement. At our church, your hands were only high enough to hold the hymnal in front of your face. Nobody evah cried!

One night at a prayer meeting, a women went around the room and prayed for each person there. She had a word from the Lord for me--that He was going to set me free to worship Him the way I wanted to. Wow. It didn't happen quickly. First, I realized that I couldn't stand still when the praise music started; I had to sway back and forth. Then I raised my hand! True, it only went as high as my waist but it was a beginning. Then up to my shoulder, then oh my goodness, all the way up over my head! I took a sign language class and that new skill gave me "permission" to praise Him with my hands during the entire worship service. Then came handbells. And now worship dance with the Messianic community. Every cell in my body loves to be involved in worshipping the God of the Universe, God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God who redeemed us with the precious blood of His Son.

There is a scene in the movie Chariots of Fire, where one of the main characters, Eric Liddell, is reassuring his sister that he has not been sidetracked from God's call on his life to go to China as a missionary. He will go, but first he has to train for and compete in the Olympics (0f 1924). In that wonderful Scottish accent he tells her, "I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure."

Doesn't that statement just melt your heart? Are you running? I'm not talking about the crazy rat-race-not-enough-hours-in-the-day-to-get-it-all-done kind of running. I mean the flowing-in-your-destiny-who-He-created-you-to-be kind of running. The kind that gives Him pleasure. Let's run that one as fast as we can.