Of Running Away

I ran away. It does me good every once in a while. I fear one day, I won’t be able to run anymore and that day, I will die. Most days I don’t have to run away, I just have to think that I can. Having the idea is enough because I like my life. I have a good life. I have never been able to explain or understand why I should have it so good.

But I ran away today. Today is Monday, but I didn’t want to do all that is “Monday.” I ran away because I need to ask the question “Why.” Why is “Monday” the way Monday is? Are there better ways of doing what I am doing? I ran away because if I don’t, I will forget how. How to use my brain, to enjoy the part of me that nags and says, “Why are you doing this?” To awaken something inside me that says I am special, unique, and have something to offer those around me—something that isn’t already there.

I didn’t run away from responsibility, I ran to it. To the responsibility of knowing myself. Being responsible for my actions, and the one life I have to live. To back away from the clutter of the familiar, and seek the face of Jesus and ask Him if He likes how things are. To turn around the situations in my life and look at them from different perspectives. And tomorrow will be “Tuesday.”

“You must stay inside the gates.”

“Why?”

“Inside the gates you are safe.”

“Safe but not alive.”

“Why can't you have your runs for freedom during respectable hours?”

“That would ruin the whole idea.”

“What is the whole idea anyway?”

“Something I can only find outside the gates.”