Walk with Me

   

A few times each year, a friend and I sign up for local races. We always laugh because we “race together”… just not at the same speed. I run, she walks. I usually finish long before she does, and instead of waiting at the finish line, I turn around, jog back along the course and find her. Then we walk the last stretch together.

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