A Word from Pastor Nathan
Church, I have a confession to make: I bought a treadmill. I enjoy running, but cold and slippery don’t work well for me, and I let my gym membership expire because of COVID. However, there is no love lost between treadmills and me. These torturous exercise devices are beasts of burden. This particular machine has no motor; it is self-powered and curved. You move the belt by running, which supposedly burns more calories and is “better for you.” FedEx delivered it last week, and a church member, along with the house painters, helped me move it down to the basement, its new home.
On Sunday, I ran on it for the first time and managed to do one mile before stepping off to catch my breath. I have a normal outdoor running pace and wanted to maintain that speed according to the small display on the handlebars. Trying to keep that pace nearly did me in, and there was no way I could run farther than a single mile. I cursed the treadmill and questioned the purchase.
After cooling off, I decided for a second attempt, and I had one goal: Run. Just run. Don’t pay attention to the pace, the time, or the distance. I bumped up the volume on the Bluetooth speaker, hit play on my favorite U2 album, and ran. Somewhere in the middle of the run, I recalled the film Chariots of Fire. In one memorable scene, Eric Liddell, the main character, is scolded by his sister for neglecting his responsibilities to God as he devotes his focus toward competitive running. Liddell responds, “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.” That last line is prescient: “When I run, I feel God’s pleasure.” The point is not the distance or the speed—God did not make me fast—but to run for the sheer joy of sensing the pleasure of God.
The jury is still out on this treadmill, but I’m taking a lesson from it, Liddell, and the apostle Paul, who wrote in his first letter to the Corinthians “whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God.” May we find the pleasure of God in all that we do, no matter the speed, pace, distance, or outcome.