It’s no secret that I am not prone to meandering. Because I tend to out walk most everyone around me when I’m moving with a crowd, I find myself pulling ahead if I do not consciously practice the art of slowing down to match the pace of others. Just yesterday, I was frustrated once again at the slowness of automatic doors. I nearly ran into them… multiple times in multiple stores. Seriously, can’t someone invent a system that can actually keep up with me?
Sadly, I seldom realize the pace at which I rush through life. Until it is pointed out, and I brake enough to give attention to it. Like the day an elderly store employee asked me if I was in a hurry. I paused long enough to look at him questioningly and responded, “No. Why?” wondering if he needed assistance with something. He just smiled and said, “Well, as fast as you were moving, I just assumed you were in a hurry.”
Apparently, my natural state of movement is hurry even when I’m not rushing.
Which brings me to today’s question: Did Jesus ever rush anywhere?
I doubt it. I doubt if the local fishermen called out to Him, “Hey, Jesus, what’s the rush?” as He hurried along the shoreline. I doubt He appeared frantic in His dealings with the local merchants or consistently preoccupied with His next divine appointment. In all his dealings with people, Jesus never rushed. Even when a mob threatened Him with death at cliff’s edge, He didn’t run off in haste; He simply passed through the midst of them and went His way (See Luke 4:28-30), leaving them to wonder in His wake.
No rushing. No worrying. No pause as to whether or not He would make it somewhere on time. Just moment-by moment living. Here. Among the creation He came to save.
Jesus never seemed distracted by anything. Every step was purposeful, leading more fully into Father’s will. Every touch filled with Holy Spirit wonder, even if merely a pat upon child’s head. Every moment heavy with blessing. Every spoken word revealing a greater glory than that to which mere law could lead. Every interaction filled with compassion, seeping with love to recover, redeem, and restore.
Every encounter with heaven’s Savior was resolutely weighted with grace to draw humanity toward Father’s heart.
No, I daresay Jesus never rushed. He deliberately stepped with purpose. Light of the World steadfastly obliterating the shadows of death one footfall at a time.
Noticing God. Noticing people. Overcoming darkness with moment-by-moment intent.
It’s so like Jesus to be constantly aware of others… and so unlike me.
Today I pray not only for eyes to see the people around me, but for determination to slow my pace to match theirs. To catch myself if I’m rushing though the motions instead of receiving all each moment offers. To look for God and notice Him in the dawdling little girl at play, in the tottering steps of aged saint, and in the person waiting for a kind word or smile… even if that means I have to slow down for automatic doors.