Running Prayer through my city
On my first day of running for the ongoing 24-7 Prayer York County fundraiser, I clocked a modest four miles.
As was one of four runners, I was hoping for a total of 15 miles. Together we were aiming for a total of 50 miles in 48 hours.
Going into Day Two, I thought I could exceed my goal, and wanted to complete a half marathon (13.1 miles).
When I parked the car at 8:30 AM in downtown Rock Hill, I sensed this was for more than just a fundraiser. The time spent actually running had a higher purpose.
That purpose turned out to be prayer.
As I ran, I prayed.
Normally I’d rather not talk in detail about my praying and prayer life. But in this case, it seems like a gift that I need to share.
I’d pass people and landmarks and buildings—many of which I’ve seen before—and prayer happened.
Below are some of the things I saw and passed, along with a few prayer snippets.
A row of small businesses.
My Prayer: That would be fruitful in their work and the employees would thrive.
I passed a child development center.
I prayed for the kids inside, for their safety and well-being. For the teachers—strength and hope. Provision for the parents.
Clinton College, founded in 1894 by the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church.
I prayed blessings, renewal, and influence upon the Black Church in Rock Hill.
Across the railroad tracks.
For victims of human trafficking and others transported in bondage.
Pilgrims Inn.
For people facing homelessness, for those who serve them.
Laurelwood Cemetery.
For those who’ve recently lost loved ones.
Winthrop University.
Hope for the students. Wisdom for the leaders.
Confederate Park.
For continued racial reconciliation and healing in the city.
It was quite an experience. An inspired run. Unexpected.
By the time I finished, I was at 17.1 miles.
I’ve never run that far in my life.
(By the end, my feet and knees had found a prayer of their own: have mercy on us!)
I’ve been on most of those streets before. They were a mixture of busy thoroughfares, residential lanes, and unexpected back alleys. I’ve zoomed past those landmarks dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times.
But this was different. The slow pace of a run opened up new opportunity for me to notice, to know, to feel.
I hope you consider doing the same in your area. Hit the streets of your city or town on foot. Run or walk. Spend some time. Go alone or with a group. Pray. Be available.
For me, this will be the start of something that I do often.