Reflecting on my daily life, I often wonder if my actions exemplify Christ. Obviously there is no aura orbiting my curls, so what sets me apart? Does my behavior wordlessly express my dedication to a Savior, or am I just another body polluting the planet? Sadly, because I exist cloaked in a garment of flesh, that answer may vary from moment to moment.
Delusions shoved aside, I’m selfish, have preconceived notions of how life ought to be and rigid standards regarding the acceptable behavior of my fellow humans. Stir all of these elements together, bake for 44 years and voila! you have a recipe for a very unChristlike demeanor. Given the reality of my true nature, exemplifying Christ is a daily battle. He and I often do not share the same perspective. Fortunately for me, Christ’s love is unwavering and He won’t allow me to languish in my self- imposed bonds but rather pokes & prods until His path becomes mine. Such was the case on a recent early morning run.
Typically I arrive at the track around 4 a.m. It’s early, dark, I’m not dressed to impress, my face bears no make-up and my hair is tossed into a messy ponytail. I run for solitude. That desire coupled with the aforementioned environmental conditions equate, in Becky’s world, to permission for deviation from normal societal niceties. Copies of the “Rules of Becky’s World” are not yet ready for distribution, so much to my chagrin, lack of conformity among others is a problem. For months now I have begrudgingly tolerated the chit chat of a morning walker while simultaneously stepping over his FOUR, unleashed Weiner dogs. In the beginning I would grit my teeth and utter unrepeatable phrases under my breath. Eventually my disdain subsided and I accepted the conversation and puppies as part of my morning workout routine. By melting my ice encrusted heart God was preparing me for an opportunity to show His love to this man.
It was an unusually chilly morning and Sir Speakeasy had already provided commentary on my running attire, “Girl don’t you have anything warmer to wear?” I laughed and kept running. On my next pass he mentioned one of his dogs had gotten away. You can imagine what briefly when through my mind, “that’s why they should be on leashes”. I noticed the dog meandering around one of the clinics and slowed briefly. Glancing at my watch and back in the direction of Sir Speakeasy I kept going. I was training for a half marathon in two weeks and had a time goal, stopping to rescue that stupid dog would throw off my training. My third pass of Sir Speakeasy revealed glimpses of a man I’d never seen. He sadly asked, “You didn’t see her?” Conviction pierced my heart as I shamefully answered that I had seen her. I felt horrible and quickly prayed, “Lord, please help me find his stupid dog.” Continuing on I spotted the puppy heading straight for me. Stopping this time, I gratefully picked her up and carried her surprisingly heavy body halfway around the track, praying that Sir Speakeasy had not given up and headed home. As I bent to put the dog down at his feet Sir Speakeasy said, “She’s a runner and a heroine too.”
I’m no heroine. I am just an ordinary girl who, for a brief moment, set aside her selfish nature and allowed Christ to work through her. Praying those moments become all too common and not so rare.