Swinging my backpack over my shoulder and fumbling for my keys, I dash toward my office down the hall. Hat on, coat on, coat zipper stuck.
Zipper fixed. Gloves on, backpack on, cell phone out: 7:13.
Spiraling down the staircase, barreling out the door. More stairs.
Hurry, don't run, there's ice, quick, watch for ice, run, should walk, must jog.
Washington Avenue straight ahead. Cars and buses rolling past. Buses! Sprint.
A long one—too long. Not to worry. Another one—a shorter one. The 2? Hurry. Maybe not. But run. Passengers boarding and unboarding: precious seconds bought to close the gap.
Closer now. Read the number: 2. Pulling away? Not yet. But no line. All are aboard. 7:15.
My legs run up along side. The 2's wheel's roll forward. Wave an arm. The 2 lurches into traffic. Catch it! Beat it to the next stop! No. Never. The 2 is across the bridge. My legs stop.
Why?
I have twenty minutes to catch my breath. Twenty minutes I could have spent in the computer lab—the warm computer lab—productively. Twenty minutes now to be spent thinking about just missing the bus, thinking about just missing the solution on the morning quiz, thinking about just missing the time I needed to get homework done, thinking... thinking...
Why?
Why do I procrastinate and perfectionate? Why do I look for hope in personal achievement and job satisfaction? Why are my desires for good things in life too strong? Why are my desires not strong enough? Why do I feel like I've felt all this before?
I'm tired. Why does it always take frustration or disappointment or just plain weariness to bring me to this place?
Lord God...
Why don't I so strongly just want You Yourself when I'm getting everything else too? Can I not be desperate for you without feeling so weary?
I'm not running away. Just running. Always running. And sometimes it takes a missed bus, bringing twenty minutes of waiting, to turn me to twenty minutes of heart-earnest prayer.
Lord God...
Thanks for sharing--The weariness, business, if only's are all too familiar. Well written--right away, I felt as if I should be in the middle of a four-hundred page novel that I'd hate to put down.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite part--"Lord God." As soon as I read that, my spirit cried "yes." I can relate not only to the weariness of running, but also to the delight of crying out to our Heavenly Father.
~Monaki