God shows each person has purpose

Kelli Toll is a jogaholic. A committed, never-say-die jogaholic. A few years ago I happened to mention to her that I was thinking about taking up her sport. "Terrific," she replied. "I'll be by your house at 5 in the morning and we'll run together."

"Uh, Kelli, I said I've been thinking about running," I answered. "I've been thinking about it for seven or eight years now. You don't want to rush this kind of decision."

Kelli promised me I wouldn't croak and I foolishly agreed to give it a whirl. Boy, did we ever have different perspectives on what "jogging" was all about! Kelli loved it; I hated it. When we came to a hill, Kelli actually expected us to continue our pace instead of slowing to a walk or better yet, turning around and heading home. The first time I attempted the mountain on Wall Street I needed a paper bag over my head just so I could breathe.

But over the next month an interesting thing happened; I found myself hating it less and less. (Notice I don't say I ever liked it. I just despised it with a little less intensity). I was actually feeling pretty good about myself, telling my friends I was a "jogger" and convinced I was something special when I could make it three miles without begging for oxygen.

Then one morning, as we completed our run, Kelli and I returned to my house to have a glass of water and visit ... nothing atypical about that. But this time Kelli looked at her watch and shot out of her chair. "Oh my! I've got to get. I'm going to be late," she exclaimed. When I asked her what the hurry was, my running partner told me she and her friend Sally were running and she was late to meet up with her.

As it turned out, I was just Kelli's WARM-UP. Her five-mile, serious run came after our unathletic, untimed activity.

Scripture tells us we all have different talents. In 1 Corinthians 12 we read the analogy of the body. The body (of Christ) consists of many members ... some are feet, some are eyes, some are hands; all are equally important. The same goes true for jogging. Some of us are the dedicated long-distance runners, some of us hand out Gatorade on the sidelines, and some of us clean out the porta-potties for the spectators, but we are all important. Kelli went on to run several marathons. I went on to run a few blocks. However, we both benefited from our time together. Our friendship grew as we would talk about what God was doing in our lives, tough things we were going through, and how we could pray for each other.

Kelli continued to encourage me to join her running group as they scaled the proverbial jogging ladder. For some reason ... perhaps the knees that sounded like castanets when I maneuvered stairs, perhaps the knowledge that I wasn't aging nearly as gracefully as my much younger friend, perhaps because I knew my giftedness was in other areas, I declined. Being my friend's warm-up was good enough for me.

But now I look back and wonder if I made the right decision. I'm not so sure. I listen to Kelli's stories about the fun times her new running group has and think about what I might be missing.

Maybe it's time to reconsider.

Yea, maybe I'll think about it for a while.

Maybe for seven or eight or nine years.

Like I said, you don't want to rush this kind of decision.