It was New Year’s Eve, and I was on
the fence. I had considered repeatedly whether I should join the #walk1000miles
challenge with a group in Britain, which meant a daily average of 2.74 miles, 7
days a week. But I had not yet filled out the official form. I was concerned
about whether I should make any commitments, aside from my PhD studies.
Sure, I could just drop out if the walk project was too much, but I did not
want to use January to start a venture which would consume precious time and
energy, unless I was supposed to do it. Yes, finding the walking group
was a happy serendipity, and I had been working up to 3 miles hikes on my walks
in a state park. However, last spring, I had injured myself (again) and could
not do any walking for months. Coming back from that injury was a slow process.
I knew I needed to make some positive changes for continued health, but was
this walking program a good tactic? What really captured my imagination was
hiking the length of the Appalachian Trail in a year, which would mean an
average of 6 miles a day, but I knew that was unrealistic. So I vacillated. I
lingered. I waffled.
After a failed attempt to find the
Rodin Museum downtown that afternoon, we decided to eat our New Year’s Eve
dinner at P. F. Chang. My sister-in-law and her husband had given us a gift
certificate, because we like the restaurant. At the end of our meal, the waiter
brought us two fortune cookies. I opened mine, munching on the cookie while I
squinted to read in the low restaurant light. I read this: “Tomorrow is a good
day to start a new exercise.” It stopped me cold. Normally, I don’t rely on
little paper messages in random cookies for restaurant customers. But this one
nailed me. Tomorrow was the prescribed start date for #walk1000miles.
So I signed the official form. The
next day, we went to Valley Forge to walk/run, and I found myself covering at
least 6 miles. I had thought the trail was about 3 miles, which would have been
a reasonable expectation. Since we moved here, the most continuous distance I’ve
covered is 3 miles, when challenging myself—so I knew it was doable. My
miscalculation gave me the gift of a heartening surprise. The next two days, I
walked 3 miles each day. Then on the third day, I completed 5 miles, with
minimal soreness afterwards. I had no idea I was so close to a break-through! Now,
an added benefit has emerged: the longer walks have relaxed me. My former worries
have been replaced with inexplicable serenity. I’m sleeping extremely well, deep
and long, after enduring weeks of short, restless nights.
Later that week, I remembered the
fortune cookie note. I pulled it out of the pencil case where I had stuffed it
and taped it to my calendar. I sent up a warm prayer, “Lord, you are amazing.
You arranged for that cookie to come to me at the right time, didn’t you?” Then
a clear, quiet thought zinged right through my mind: Yes, I did. Of
course, fortune cookies do not have real power in themselves. I’m not
suggesting that we follow fortune cookie messages. My point is that God can use
many means of communicating with us. I knew this note was not a
coincidence. This note was the gentle nudge I needed. I knew it immediately by the burning in my heart, which reminded me of one of my favorite verses at the end of Luke's gospel:
“They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts
burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the
Scriptures?’ ” – Luke 24:32 ESV
