If You Took a Walk With Us

If you took a walk with us, you wouldn't only have tangled hair and dusty shoes at the end of the road, you'd also learn to savor life a bit more and your heart would spill over with thankfulness.

No iPod or cell phone needed. You can even leave your Kindle at home, too.  We'd show you that walking 2 miles in less than 30 minutes is overrated.

We prefer an hour and a half.

We'd remind you that hair blowing in the wind warms the heart and yellow flowers make you smile. 

You'd remember there's nothing quite so precious as baby feet basking in the sun. You'd praise God for the miracle of ten toes.

You'd be amazed that there could be so much color along the desert road, and you, too, would want your own stick.

You'd thank God for the simple joy of holding hands, Big helping Little.

You'd have to stop and smell the wildflowers and maybe even study them a bit more closely, too. You'd consider all the details of God's creation you've been overlooking for years now.

You'd remember what it's like to just enjoy the moment for what it is, not fretting over what you still have left to do or what unknowns the future holds.

The horses would compel you to stop. You'd wonder at their beauty and thank the God who made them all.

You'd remember frisbee is a game to be played almost anywhere. No electricity required.

You might even feel the urge to sprint a bit, pondering the grace God gives you to run THE race well.

You'd look at all the smiles around you, remembering every good thing you have was bought with a price, the blood of Jesus.  

You'd think of that person whose burden you want to make lighter. You'd think of ways to carry them when they're weary and can't go on.

You'd remember not to rush so much, and you'd take time to pet the horses. 

And after the initial shock, you'd learn to rejoice even when covered with horse spit.

You'd be more mindful of the "least of these," ready to offer a helping hand or a strong shoulder.

You'd discover the adventure that awaits you in a sunflower. 

And in your imagination.

Slumping baby chin would remind you of the gift of having loved ones to lean on and of belonging to the One who lifts you up.

You'd remember God gives you the privilege of being the hands and feet of Jesus to others. 

You'd praise God for the gift of slowness and the joy of drinking of His mercies so fully and gratefully.

Any takers? :)


With love,