I am a runner.

I am a runner. 

I run from the first sign of unhappiness. I run from fear of getting hurt. I run when I face contention, drama, hate. I run fast.

 And I don’t come back.

Once at my new destination, I make a new home. 

New life, new family, new friends, and almost always a new place. At least a new place in my heart is closed off and I don’t look back at it anymore.

There have been plenty of people who have tried to make themselves my finish lines. They spread themselves out across the pavement as a black and white checkered sheet. But I see past the transparency act, and can sense a lie trying to trap me. 

You are not my finish line.

And just as easily as I found it, I’m off running again.

It hurts running after a while.

Of course, I’ve run from everything bad. And that’s not what upsets me. It’s leaving the good with it. I miss the ones who called me their own once upon a time. I miss the homes I’ve made. Every runner needs a finish line, but mine will always be a 10k away.

“Come unto me.” The words leave me out of breath.

“All ye that are heavy laden.” I think that’s me. Years of running is finally catching up to my lungs and heart.

“I will give you rest.” I feel like I’m on mile 8 of my marathon, and I’m not sure I’ll make it.

Learning about Jesus Christ is lifesaving. Truly, I’m able to trust him because he’s done everything for me. By taking on my transgressions, sins, sorrows, illnesses, and pains he has opened up a whole new life for me to live. I do not need to dwell on the difficult parts of my life, and can more fully appreciate and expand on the more beautiful parts.

I need not run from Christ, but to him. 

Christ is my finish line.