On a brutally hot and humid day, with the air filled with wildfire smoke, I put my running shoes on.

“Where are you going in this weather?” she asked.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said.

“Why?” was the fair question.

For me the answer was as profound as it was simple.

“Because I can.”

If you have read my recent blogs you know that I am coming off a devastating knee injury. When I asked my surgeon if a torn quadriceps tendon was as big of a problem as a torn ACL, he responded, “You would have rather torn all your Ls.” He wasn’t wrong.

Those first few months were dark. It was also problematic because I was unable to look for a job. Having recently left the church I was blessed to serve, my finances were on the clock while I was on the couch. But worst of all was that my sabbath, my peace was taken away as I went from running 50 miles a week to walking 75 steps a day. 

Slowly, really slowly, my knee is healing. The rest of me is too. Resurrection for me has come in the form of walking. It hasn’t been a “Lazarus” being brought forth from the tomb type rising. It’s been way more gradual. One heart beat at a time I’ve been reawakened to life through walking. It started with a fully locked out brace and crutches. Then one crutch, then a 30 degree bend in the brace, then I dropped the other crutch, then 60 degrees, then 90, and then the news I had been waiting for…I could ditch the brace all together. 

My left quad is still only 53 percent as strong as my right. I still struggle to go down steps, and I have to tell my wife constantly that I’m certainly in no shape for household chores. But I can walk. First with a limp, and now mostly without. First with a few steps, and now for a few miles, I am walking. Why do I bore you with this update? For me, walking has brought me new life. 

I have often defined my faith and life as one of pilgrimage. However, my understanding of what that means has evolved this year. “Just keep walking,” has become my mantra. It represents not only my physical journey but also my life. But walking has taken so much more energy than I ever imagined.

First, walking is first a decision to move away, and walking away is hard. Physically, it meant leaving the safety of the couch. I was sick of the couch, and I was sick of watching and feeling my leg get weaker, but it was safe. To get up and walk meant putting weight on my weakness. It meant welcoming instability and even tiredness and pain. But I would not find a full life on the couch, resurrection could only be found if I walked away.

I’ve learned that walking away in life is just as hard. Sometimes pilgrimage causes us to walk away from so much. This past year I’ve walked away from a congregation I loved,  a community I once held dear, and from some relationships that weren’t what I thought they were. None of these were inherently bad. They were stops on the journey, as I was to them, and it was time to move on. But moving on means loss. Moving on is dangerous. Moving on means pain.

And yet, moving on is where growth and life is found. For I was not just walking away from, but I was also walking towards. Not too long ago I stared at my leg, willing it to move. I wouldn’t. Last week I walked 10 miles one afternoon (don’t tell my surgeon). It started with that first step. Moving forward has led me to new goals, a new community, and the beginning of new relationships. Slowly, slowly my knee and my spirit are being raised to new life. I am finding joy and possibility and hope. 

At the same time I understand that where I am is not the destination. Physically, I want to run again. In life, I realize that my current blessings are not the final destination. Rather, they too will be part of a pilgrimage in which I continue to move further into relationships with my wife, my kids, my friends, my community, and my God. But I don’t need to know what’s around those bends right now. At this moment I will smile and just keep walking. Because I can.

Walking photo by Arek Adeoye on Unsplash