Running…
running…
It’s moving so fast…
How will I ever catch it?
I’ve been running so long…
I don’t remember…
when I left the station.
Was there a station?
It seems…
it’s always been…
Me…
the train…
the landscape.
Everything rushing by.
Tracks running through the open country…
going on forever…
and me…
running…
never able to catch it.
Keeping pace…
but never catching up.
Always alongside…
never close enough to jump aboard.
Always running…
just to maintain.
Once…
I tripped.
I fell.
My falter…
so ill-timed!
It was at that moment
the train
came to a halt.
Scrambling…
scraping…
running to get up and on,
I felt my heart sink
as it started up again…
and pulled away…
just as I got going again.
So close…
but still…
running.
Other times,
it slowed…
but…
I stumbled…
and was…
unable to catch it,
even then.
Still running…
Can I keep this up…
forever?
So exhausting…
So monotonous…
So…
I fall again.
This time…
I can’t get up.
Frustrated…
failed…
fallen.
Beating the ground with my fists,
I lift tear-filled eyes
to watch the train
pull forever out of reach.
But…
it’s there.
It has stopped.
I dare not move.
I dare not hope.
Rising to my feet
will only make it start up again…
start the running again.
I lay there.
I look.
I wait.
I wonder.
In my stillness…
I see a figure…
like that of a man…
fill the door frame of the nearest car.
His wave
beckons me come.
I stand.
No energy to run…
I stumble…
broken and tired…
to the train.
I reach the figure,
who is holding out his hand.
I look,
and finally recognize his face.
“Come aboard,”
he tells me,
“I’ve been waiting for you a while.”
“Waiting?” I ask,
“But…
all the running…
I’ve been trying to get here…
for so long.
If you wanted me aboard,
why didn’t you…
stop the train?
Why didn’t you…
wait for me?”
“Ah, yes…
the running,”
was his reply,
“I am so glad you stopped.
All this time,
the train has been keeping pace…
with you.
The faster you ran…
the faster it went.
I’ve been trying to keep up…
with you.
I wasn’t willing…
to let you get away.
I had hoped the obstacles
I put in your path
would make you slow down.
You did stumble.
Once you even fell.
But, you simply got back up…
and started running again.
Now…
you’ve stopped.
So…
the train has stopped.
My Father is conducting,
and he is simply waiting
for you to climb aboard,
and he will take us on.
He knows exactly where we should stop
and when.
He has prepared for us…
a magnificent adventure.
So…
Come aboard…
and feast with me in the dining car.
Come aboard…
and delight with me in the scenery.
Come aboard…
and share with me in this journey.
Come aboard…
and stop running.”
He saw the hope in my eyes…
and I felt it
fill my heart,
as I stuttered my next words to ask…
“You mean…”
His strong but gentle hand
guided me onto the train…
and I collapsed in his arms
as he offered the word
my soul
was desperate to hear…
“Yes, my child…
rest.”
Kerry, This is so perfectly and beautifully written, expressing our worldly seeking and searching . . . and God’s patient lovingkindness . . . simply inviting up to “abide with Him”!
Kerry, This is so perfectly and beautifully written, expressing our worldly seeking and searching . . . and God’s patient lovingkindness . . . simply inviting us to “abide with Him”!
Thank you Susan! I pray it blesses those who read it.