Over the years,
those shared miles have become my favorite part of every race.
When I’m
running, I’m focused on the finish line, on pace, time, and momentum. But when
I slow down to walk with her, a different world opens up. I start noticing
things I completely missed while running: wildflowers pushing up through the
cracks in the road, little artistic murals on old buildings, small details that
would have blurred by at a faster pace. We talk. We laugh. We process life and mile by mile, our friendship has deepened not in the running, but in the
walking.
There’s
something sacred about slowing down enough to see what’s been there all along.
It reminds me
of a quiet but powerful moment in the book of Moses, when the Lord speaks to
Enoch. Enoch feels painfully inadequate; too young, too shy, too weak, too
overlooked. He describes himself as “slow of speech” and someone others don’t
take seriously. In today’s language, he might have said, “Why me? I’m not
qualified.”
But the Lord
doesn’t give Enoch a pep talk or a list of reasons he’s secretly amazing.
He simply
extends an invitation:
“Walk with me.”
Those three simple words change everything.
The
Lord doesn’t say, “Go do this alone,” “Be perfect first,” or “Figure
it all out before you start.” He invites Enoch into companionship, into
movement, into a journey taken together, step by step.
As Enoch
accepts that invitation, something transformative happens. His
capacity expands. His confidence strengthens. His spiritual eyesight
sharpens until he sees things “not visible to the natural eye.” But all of that
begins not with running, not with sprinting, but with walking.
It begins with
a walk.
Walking is
relational.
Walking requires presence.
Walking makes space for noticing, listening, and connecting.
It’s the same
lesson I learn every time I circle back to walk with my friend: the most
meaningful moments often unfold at a slower pace.
Scripture often
highlights big miracles and dramatic moments, but so much of discipleship
happens in the quiet, steady rhythm of daily living. Walking with God doesn’t
require perfect performance or flawless faith.
It looks like:
- slowing down enough to feel a nudge
of the Spirit,
- noticing beauty you might have
overlooked,
- choosing kindness when you’re
tempted to rush past someone,
- letting God into your thoughts,
your conversations, your small decisions.
Walking with
God means letting Him set the pace one that allows for peace, connection, and
growth.
Enoch’s
story and even my small race experience reminds us that
God doesn’t need flawless people. He needs willing people. People who
will keep moving forward with Him even when they feel overwhelmed, too slow, or
not enough.
People who
trust that if they take a step,
He will magnify the path beneath their feet.
What Does “Walk
With Me” Look Like for You?
Maybe walking
with God today means slowing your own pace just a little.
Maybe it means noticing something beautiful you’ve been rushing past.
Maybe it’s being present with someone who needs companionship.
Maybe it’s
trusting that your imperfect efforts are enough.
However it
looks for you, the invitation is the same as it was for Enoch:
“Walk with
me.”
Just like my
race experience, when we turn around, slow our pace and walk with Him, he will
show us things we never would have seen on our own. He will deepen our
connection to Him. He will make more out of our steps, small as they may
seem and know you got this because he's got you
xoxo
Tiffanee
