It was a tic.
On a beautiful spring day, we set out with friends for a casual walk along a railroad grade.
When I got up closer to him I saw it was tics. Plural. Lots of tics. All over our legs. We looked down, and they were like ants on the ground. I’ve never seen anything like it.
After fiercely swatting them off our legs, we all ran.
I don’t run, but I did on that day. Hard and fast. More than a little determined to get to new ground that was not crawling.
Love. Preacher husband says from the pulpit that it’s a full-on run. “Above all, love each other deeply.” (1 Peter 4:8). The kind of love that exerts itself, like a horse in full gallop, stretched out.
Running toward love like I ran toward tic-free ground. Desperate and highly motivated. Giving no thought to side-ache and burning calves. Refusing to stop.
A few weeks ago someone hurt my feelings -said something caustic. I felt myself pulling back from her in anger. But then I remembered that love moves to. No, love runs to. I exerted myself all week –forgiving, loving, trying to understand.
Who do you need to run toward with love? You wouldn’t just stand there in a field of tics would you? Move.