“[God] will listen as you walk.” —George MacDonald
One evening as my beloved husband Michael and I strolled around the neighborhood, hand-in-hand, I lamented, “Where is everybody, Mike? People just don’t walk much anymore.”
For the past forty years, Michael and I have been both soul-mates and walking partners. We’ve found walking to be a wonderful way to stay fit and to forge our friendship, as we limber our limbs, relish changing seasons and scenery, and enjoy one another’s company in conversation or silence. I always feel uplifted when I return home.
Walking is good for your health—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It stretches both sinew and soul.
We began walking as newlyweds in a turn-of-the-century neighborhood and now amble along lanes lined with fifties’ retro-ranch-style houses and towering trees. We actually chose our current house over another we loved, because our subdivision boasts more walking paths.
We’ve walked in sunshine and rain, heat waves and cold spells, at daybreak and sunset, in good moods and foul spirits. It doesn’t depend upon temperatures or temperaments. Walking is always accessible, simple, and satisfying. One just needs comfy clothing, supportive shoes, and a willing spirit.
There was a time when I was not quite so willing. As a young woman in my twenties, and this is embarrassing to admit, I actually sped to work every morning in my VW Bug like a bat out of you know where—only *one* block away from where I lived! My life was driven by speed. I presumed the faster I went, the farther I’d get.
Mercifully, those days are gone, just a blurred memory in my rear-view mirror. How much wiser I would have been to slow down and savor the journey.
So now, as a seasoned sojourner, whether I walk in tandem with Michael or saunter solo, I take my time. Yes, I still do powerwalk to get my blood coursing, but walking for me is more than movement; walking is worship. I don’t want to rush that.
How fitting that our relationship with the Lord is often depicted as a “walk.” We move with Him every day of our life, one step at a time. While we do, we worship Him for His omniscience, realizing He knows the way. We worship Him for His omnipresence, knowing He walks with us.
I adulate as I ambulate, because God has given me legs that move and lungs that breathe. I praise Him for my body, fearfully and wonderfully made, even as it matures—maybe *especially* as it does.
I praise Him for the beauty of His creation—for the heavens that proclaim His glory, as He inscribes His invisible attributes in visual splendor, His signature across silken skies—for His parading seasons that welcome me like colorful greeting cards around every bend, with every footfall.
God listens as I walk, as I make my requests known or confess my sins. But more often than not, the Lord and I settle into comfortable conversation as rhythmic as the beat of my heart, the flow of my breath, the pace of my feet. Walking with God, my companion, is good for me because when I do, He never fails to increase my hope, renew my strength, and intensify our love.