The heat is oppressive. He gives a long sigh as he sits in the door of his tent, sweat trickling down his wrinkled skin. He swats at a pesky fly that buzzes around his head. The weak shadows of the oak branches dance as a slight breeze struggles to bring relief.
In the distance he sees three men walking. The image blurs and wavers as the heat rises from the ground. The old man squints. The men are strangers, yet as he looks, a familiarity grips his heart. He feels drawn to them.
His joints creak as he gets up. He starts to run. When he reaches them, he falls to the ground and kneels in the dust before them.
Peering up, he begs them to sit and rest in the shade, to eat and spend time with him. When they agree, he runs to prepare the best he has. He brings the food out and sets it before them. Like a servant, he stands beside them as they sit and eat, attentive to anything they might say or request.
When they finish the meal, they turn to the old man and tell him the promise is near. His hand trembles as he wipes away the sweat and the tears clinging to his face.
It’s what he had been waiting to hear:
God has made good on His promise.
What if we took our cue from that old man, Abraham?
What would it take for us to get up out of our tent, our place of complacency, and run to Him?
What if we listened to the heart tug that draws us to Him?
How would my life change if I desired to spend time with Him?
What priorities would I have to clear out that I’ve put above Him?
Would I bring Him the best that I have?
Would I run to set the best things in my life before Him? [After all, didn’t He give them to me in the first place?]
Abraham was a rich and powerful man, but he didn’t bat an eye at waiting tables. He didn’t care about decorum and dignity that a man of his stature would have possessed.
Abraham ran from his tent,
fell down before Him,
and got up to serve.
He gave Him the best he had. He listened and hung on every word. And he was not disappointed.
Let’s run to Him.