I love long walks. They serve multiple purposes for me. Most the time, they’re a combination of relaxing and energizing. Often times, they’re worshipful and centering. And every now and then, they feel absolutely necessary. If I’m in a funk, I know I can walk myself out of it. Not because the walk in and of itself is magically healing; it’s more about the process of walking, of action, of doing something that takes effort.
And that’s how I found myself miles away from where I parked, sitting on a picnic table, praying and catching my breath, not from walking too much but from weeping. I breathed, not the natural breath we all take but an intentional breathing to remind myself I was alive.
I received a text from a friend who was checking in on me.
“How’s my Susan?”
“What are you doing?”
“Well…that’s good. Where are you?”
And that’s when I realized where I was and how far I had walked. I laughed as I replied, “A long way from my car. I decided to walk until I de-funked. Apparently, it took a while.”
It felt so good to laugh, mainly at myself. I was indeed alive. I walked back to my van with a bit of a spring of appreciation in my step. Thankful for long walks, thankful for healing, thankful for friends.
Maybe you can’t take a long walk. Sometimes I’ll read sections of Scripture over and over until it sinks in and settles me (and settles into me). Sometimes I’ll listen to a song over and over. But there’s something about repetition that can refocus me. Sometimes it takes longer than others, but it always happens eventually. It’s like an alignment at the chiropractor. I might walk away sore and a bit off-balanced, but I still know it’s a good thing.
And I’m thankful for God’s adjustment.