I run in the path of your commands,
for you have set my heart free. (Psalm 119:32, NIV)
I’m tempted to add nothing, and let this verse speak for itself. If we were together, I would ask you to tell me what you think when you read this. Does it excite you? move you?
I’m not a runner–I’d rather walk two miles than run one (supposing I could do even that!). Still, this verse speaks to me. I remember the first time I read it (about 15 years ago), working my way through Psalm 119 and being brought to a halt. For one, the verse is markedly different in tone from what’s come so far. Most of the first 31 verses are prayers or requests of God, and this particular section of the psalm begins with “I am laid low in the dust.”
Second, believers don’t run much in Scripture. In both Old and New Testaments, the idea of walking before God is a common image of faith. Paul does write about running the race in several letters, but generally, when the Bible tells us that someone runs, its the sinner running toward evil. This psalm begins with the idea of walking in God’s ways. Suddenly, we hear the psalmist saying he runs.
All that’s interesting (at least to us English-major types), but the root of my surprise at this verse was that, 15 years ago, I couldn’t imagine saying these words myself. I was in bad shape, and my heart was anything but free. I was, to put it simply, a mess. But this verse spoke to me, showed me something I had never imagined.
For me, run suggests ease. You can walk on a difficult path, taking your time over the rough places, but you don’t run. For that, you need smooth ground, an even surface. I loved God, but walking in His ways was not easy for me. If you read Psalm 119 through a filter of legalism (as I did), it’s a nightmare. There are words and commands and decrees and laws and testimonies and statutes and precepts–and he talks about them for 176 verses! How in the world do you manage that?
Add to this legalistic bondage (compounded by a major streak of perfectionism) bondages of emotional immaturity, addictive behaviors, fear, and the general stupidity of most young adults, and you’ll see that I was bound up and down, inside and out, every which way.
And so running in God’s will because my heart was free was a novel concept. And very attractive. It was as if the Holy Spirit was saying, “Here’s what I want for you, Dan. You don’t know it yet, you’re not sure if you’ve ever even seen it, but this is the goal. This is how you can live.”
I’d like to tell you that three months later I was there. Yeah, right! It was probably another 7 or 8 years before I could say that my heart was free and that serving God was easy. The time it took doesn’t really matter, though. What’s important is that I can say–not just read or recite, but actually say, “I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.”
Charis means grace, and that’s what this blog is about: grace, in all its—sometimes messy, always magnificent—manifestations. I’m Dan Butcher, and I invite you to join me in learning to lead a Christ-centered, grace-filled life.