Discipleship and Grace

Earlier this week I began listening to "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed.  In the prolouge of the book, she says that she left her life to walk the Pacific Coast Trail to become the woman she was meant to be and to return to the young girl she was.  (Not quoted verbatim)  That has stuck with me for the last couple of days.

This morning I awoke early--or rather got up early to run on the beach.  I didn't sleep well last night.  I was afraid I had offended a good friend and I couldn't get the conversation out of my mind.  I replayed it over and over dissecting every statement I thought I could remember.  Early this morning I decided to run because that is where I always feel I get the most clarity.  But as I was running--pushing myself harder and harder and then slowing down to be gentle with myself, I wondered about why I was running.  As I was pushing myself to go faster and further, it seemed I was actually trying to run away from what I believed I had done.  I wasn't getting clarity.  Instead, I was trying to run from myself from being the person, who was insensitive or at least stuck her foot in her mouth--to run from being the kind of person who hurt someone.  As I ran harder and harder, I realized I wanted to shed that part of me--to run out of that part of me.  And as I slowed down, I seemed to be caring for myself; I was being gentle with myself--acknowledging that I may have messed up, but as I slowed down and allowed my lungs to refill with air, I did have more clarity and my mind was saying, it wasn't intentional and that I could try to repair it just as I could slow down and allow my tired body to rest and rejeuvenate.

Walking back along the beach I began to think about this and to think about all the ways people try to run from the parts of themselves they dislike, are ashamed of, or fear.  People run in so many different ways--shopping too much, drinking too much, being too busy, isolating, gambling, ignoring--so many ways.  This morning I wanted to run away; I wanted the conversation to get out of my mind; but I just carried it with me. And until I slowed down and breathed, I couldn't even begin to process; I couldn't begin to forgive myself for what I may have done, and I certainly couldn't begin to ask for forgiveness.  Instead of trying to run away from who I don't want to be, perhaps I need to consider running into who I do want to be, who God wants me to be.  And that requires both pushing myself and being gentle--discipleship and grace.