Prayer of a Fugitive

Sweet Savior,

A confused fugitive,
I tend to run from You
wasting precious years and months,
loping, darting, scurrying, dashing, gliding,
and foolishly attempting to hide from You --
You, the Source of all joy and life and peace.

I looked away.
I sought all else.
I clung to worthless idols.
I owed and owed You so very much.
My debt was so immense that I feared Your wrath --
not a holy fear, but an ominous and disquieting dread 
that kept my feet running and running as far away from You.

O, joy of all joys!

You planted in the ground, on a glorious Friday,
an old rugged cross soaked with Your redeeming blood,
an impregnable wall that halted my dizzying and zipping feet.
There, I stopped sprinting and yielded my running shoes to You.
There, I found life in You -- You who interceded on my behalf,
You who paid the price for my sins and turned my feet northward,
rendering them beautiful and prepared to carry the gospel of peace.

By Your grace, I will run no more.
Through Your love, I will no longer flee.
Wrapped in Your embrace, I will be still and satisfied.
For Your glory and honor, I will live and sing and testify.

You are my Home.