Saturday's run was a beauty, filled with grace.
No thanks to the gray, cold, wet weather.
At the start, I ran beneath this tree...
and reached up to brush the leaves with my hand.
One let go of its limb and stayed in my hand. I looked at it and never considered discarding it.
For the next 35 minutes the leaf ran with me. Smaller than my thumb, it cradled faithfully between my left thumb and forefinger.
Every so often I would look at it. I felt the whole world's beauty in its simplicity: tender veins, gentle yellow, slender stem, intricate edges.
After 10 minutes I sensed clearly God's presence in the leaf. And all around me. And in me. And powering every stride. And brushing me with the fine, cold mist. And sweetening each breath I took.
I was running with God. God was running with me.
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