When we experience heart ache and cant make sense of life we often do one of 3 things. We run from it, deny it a refuse to face truth, or tremble on awe of God and trust him. Since my article was so long I decide to post it in three separate blogs so stay tuned for the rest of it if you care to.

Part 1 To Flat-out Run

“Tell me if you can,” I typed several notes in my tablet as I spoke, “what prompted you to leave your home?” I pause, “Did you not feel safe?”
The sullen 13 year old in front of me picked at some dirt on his hand, tightened his jaw and relaxed it. “Didn’t feel safe, was mostly angry I spose and I knew I had to git outa there.”
“You where gone for 3 days am I correct?” I asked continuing my interrogation. It was another day as an EMT and we where bumping along in the back of the ambulance. Nine one one had dispatched us to assist law enforcement with a psychiatric emergency so here I was.
“Correct.” He nodded and continued to stare out the back windows of the ambulance.
“Where did you go?”
“Oh to a friends house.”
I checked several more check boxes on the chart in my tablet. Took a breath. “Okay so here’s the story I received from the officer. She said you came to school after being gone for three days, and your mom came to pick you up at school and as you where heading home you jumped from the vehicle at a stop sign and attempted to leave again.”
He nodded
“What prompted you to leave this time?”
“Guess,” He shrugged. “I was just real mad and knew had to git away.”
The rest of the transport was uneventful. I went through the rest of the usual mental health questions along with talking about sports and pets.
As we drove from the hospital and hashed stuff. My brother said, “I hope he finds some one good to talk to.”
“Yeah hope so too. I said, “I hope he doesn’t let this define his course of life.”
Later as finished up the chart, I kept thinking about what the officer said to the boy before she had went back to her cruiser. “Now don’t give these guys any trouble.” She ordered sternly.
Did he even know any different thought. All his life so far he had seen people run from there problems. Drugs, alcohol, divorce. I didn’t know his whole story and I didn’t need to. What I had seen was a father who had bailed out an all this teenager knew was to bail out and run too.

The woman slipped from the tent, stealthily. Rage and bitterness boiled from her lips as she hissed, “Never again you old Sarah, never again.”
Then her form moved away careful as not to disturb as much as an earth worm. The quite tent village shrinking behind her. She turned once more, her features softened a for a moment and her hand rested on her swelling abdomen. Then her eyes narrowed to blazing slits and through clenched teeth, with her breath quickening, “ No Sarah, as much as you want you will never see this child! Never!”
On and on the battered, angry soul went with the motion of her thoughts. Sometimes slowly to happy cheerful times where a smile twitched briefly at her lips. Ahh, back when things had been different. Then quickly when fear and raged pierced through her as the tumult of the past several months washed over her. She paused at the fountain of water and then sat down. The splash of the water and the wild of the wilderness offered a kind of shalom she hadn’t felt in a while.
“ Hagar, Sarah’s maid, where did you come from?” The voice was strong and firm yet gentle and soothing. “ Where will you go?”
The woman fidgeted and cowered. “ I am running away from my mistress, Sarah.” She trembled.
“Go back Hagar and humble yourself and obey her. I will multiply your seed greatly to the point where you wont even be able to count it. Listen, inside of you is your son. Call him Ishmael, God hears, because Hagar I the Lord have heard your affliction.”
Tears streamed from her eyes washing the dust from her cheeks. Blood pumped through her heart washing away the pride. Her form bowed in worship. “ Your are God who sees.” Her voice is awed “ Even here in this wilderness I have seen You and I live. I see future. Beer- lahai-roi.”

The small shifty man shuffled his pack to his under his left arm to his right arm and recounted the coins in his hand for the 5th time.
“Mmhmm.” He muttered nervously, “ the perfect amount.”
He shifted his weight shaded his eyes and scanned the boat docked in the harbor. Then he heard what he was waiting for. The sing song voice, rasping out its wares.
“ Those boarding for Tarsus this way. Those for Tarsus this way.” The burly sailor motioned dramatically with his arm.
Jonah sifted his way through the crowded bustling docks and pushed his way toward the gang plank and toward the sailor. “ The fare?”
“The what?” the sailor paused his sing-song and motioning.
“I asked what the fare was,” Jonah voice was nervous.
“Ahh lets do 10.” The sailor pushed out chest, “Yes 10 it is, a discount since its just you and the bag.”
“Nah 5, “ Jonah’s boldness was growing. Maybe this impulsive exit plan was better than he initially thought.
“Oh a little taste for bargaining, eh? Must be that type,” The sailor wiggled his chin, “Your bag is smaller than some lets say 7 then.”
At the words bargaining type it reignited the twitch in the pit of Jonah’s stomach, and his nervousness started to find its way back. “Yes, well said, in more ways than money.” He muttered. He bit nervously at his lip. The desire to the whittle the price left. Then to the sailor, “So 7 it is.” He said quickly. He drew out the coins and made his way up the gang plank. As he waited for time for the boat to leave he wandered around the deck and eventually found his way down inside.
He felt it the boat jolt and move from the land. It creaked and groaned as it headed for the wide open waters. A smirk played over the small mans lips as he leaned back against the cargo and the lull of the ship soon rocked him to sleep, not knowing that in just a short time he would face the fury of a righteous God.
I know those last to stories are in my own words and I let my imagination run, but you get the point. What do you do when the jaws of life begin to close in? The feeling of panic rises in my throat, choking. Cornering me. Pushing me up against the wall and all it feels like is left to do is lace up my Nikes grab up my baggage and run. And when I think I have gotten far enough away from the fire, the blast, the conflict, I sit down to catch my breath and I realize I still have myself. Myself. Self staring me in the face, its eyes glittering. Striking terror in my core and yet even though it scares me I defend it. I hang desperately at its leash and try to protect it. Self protection. I become an expert. I set up camp. I build the barricade. And with my barricade I feel invincible briefly, but then I realize its only me, myself and I. The walls I built to protect myself and keep others out, only imprison me. Loneliness threatens so I run from it. I smile at other joggers but as soon as they get to close I run from them. I run and run and run. I set up camp but I run again. I run from church problems, from myself, from fears, from desires that scare me, and the list could go on. But the further I run the more I realize I am trying to escape what I want the most. Its an illusion, my friends, I know cause I have tried it. Its just a treadmill and when you look up from numbers of the distance you’ve run or the calories you’ve burnt you’ll still be in the basement, and above you in the living room are the people that you are convinced you cant ever reconcile with. Ten feet beyond you, outside the door is a community of believers, a church that your feel like could never be a brotherhood, and maybe your right, but your treadmill didn’t get you anywhere. Its an illusion, running never works but then again if your trying to loose weight it could be beneficial.
Till next time,
Julie