Earlier this year I spent time in a city that wasn't my home. I walked it's streets every day with people who weren't home, yet I grew to love. Every day we would walk to our destination together and return to the place we made our temporary home together, in unison. Stepping out along sidewalks, crossing highways and breathing in deeply the musty air of a city that never slept, we cultivated relationship. As this journey embedded itself into our daily rhythm, I began to realise something. If I sped ahead, taking charge, leading the pack, I lost a connection with my fellow travellers. And if I dragged behind, distracted by a fleeting attempt to capture this great metropole one identical snap after another, I too disrupted that most tender of human rituals: the gentle questionning of two individuals getting to know each other's lives and loves. Only when we were travelling at the same pace, walking in tandem, talking in hushed tones, glancing in sympathy, empathy and laughter, could we truely relate.The Old Testament prophet Micah set out a beautifully simple aid to our lives in a trinity of commands to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with our God. My daily journeys in a strange city resonated with this last command. Strutting out in front of God or being distracted by sights along the way both stop me from relating to my Father. I need to walk humbly alongside Him, sharing my day, listening to His tales of life and love and knowing that if I stick close to Him I'll remain on the right path that's ahead of us.
