Most days, I ask Lexi what she did during recess. More often than not, chasing Robert is mentioned. Robert is the son of friends of ours, and in the other kindergarten class at school.
For months, I tried to figure out why Lexi chased Robert. She would say “I don’t know, it’s just what we do.” I discouraged it. Finally, she started telling me, “Mom, Robert wants me to chase him. He likes it.” “Why do you think he likes it?” “He likes it. Let’s not talk about this anymore, please!”
Just recently, we were going over to their house, and Robert’s 3-year-old brother proclaimed with glee, “Kate and Lexi are coming, and Lexi is going to chase Robert!”
Something suddenly clicked for me, and I understood. We all want to be chased, pursued, and wanted: by romantic partners, friends, God. Like a child on the playground, we are begging to be chased.
Sometimes I think we run just to see who will chase after us. It is a way we test relationships, to see if someone loves us enough to pursue us.
Robert is tall and fast. He can slow down and let Lexi catch him, or run fast enough to keep away. That level of control is pretty attractive. But even with our best illusions of dominion, there are always a few things outside of our control.
Perhaps we will stumble on a rock in the path, or our own shoelaces. Other times, like the lost sheep, we run and then we cannot find our way back home.
I remember the lost sheep I know, and pray that they would have the clarity of a small child, to see why they are running and stop in their tracks. I pray they would let themselves be found.
In the midst of it all, I am resting in the promise today that the Son of Man came to seek and save the lost. I am longing for the day when we will all hang up our running shoes for good, and live in perfect relationship with God and with each other. But I am thankful for all those who pursue others with godly love and care as we labor on this side of eternity.