BY STEPHEN CHAVEZ

IVEN THE CHOICE, I PREFER ACTION over inaction. When I was a parish pastor, I discovered that a pastor's life is not so much a life of quiet study, reflection, and meditation as it is a life of activity punctuated by interruptions, impossible demands, and daily crises.

Early in my ministry my Day-Timer was as essential to my devotional life as my Bible and whatever devotional material I happened to be reading at the time. Every morning I set aside a block of time for reading and reflection. But whenever I remembered a letter I needed to write, a phone call I needed to make, or someone I needed to visit, I'd jot it down in my Day-Timer, allowing the Holy Spirit to help me prioritize that day's activities. I can't tell you how many times I'd make a phone call or a personal visit, only to have the person say, "How did you know I had to talk to someone?"

On the Road
Now that my parish is no longer confined to one congregation, my prayer life has evolved into a less structured but, for me, more meaningful practice.

Almost every morning, a little after 5:00, I lace up my running shoes and, after dressing appropriately for the season, head for the door and hit the road. Nine months out of the year I do most of my running in the dark; it's surreal, almost dreamlike. Other than the headlights and taillights of passing cars, there are few distractions. During the 60 minutes or so that I'm out pounding the pavement, God and I process the things involved in living a life of discipleship.

I often tell my friends I'm addicted to running. Part of it is the physical sensation of having so many endorphins coursing through my body during and after my run. But the greater part is having uninterrupted time with my Creator. Many are the times the solution to a problem has presented itself. Rarely do I run without remembering some friend, family member, or acquaintance who needs prayer. Often I pray for problems at the office, my local church, the world, that only God can solve.

I don't pray the entire time, nonstop. Part of the enjoyment of praying on the run is just being in the presence of an all-wise, all-powerful, loving, and personal God.

Take a Walk
But that's not all. For most of our married lives my wife and I have owned dogs (or have they owned us?). And for most of those years it's been my responsibility to take them on walks. So after I get back from my morning run, and before I go to bed each night, the dogs and I enjoy the quiet, calming sensation of being surrounded by nature.

The dogs, Rocky and Zoey, sniff the thousand different scents that line the path through the park near our home. Sometimes they chase deer into the woods or scare squirrels back up into the trees. I doubt they notice wispy clouds that reflect the sun's rays before it crests the horizon, the sliver of a new moon as it rises in the velvet sky, or the glitter of fireflies that make the trees sparkle. They surely don't see the canopy of stars that reminds me of God's many promises.

In the morning God and I preview the events that are already on my calendar, and I pray to be prepared for the inevitable unscripted surprises. In the evening, in addition to reflecting on the magnificence of God's creation, I reflect on the day's activities--the things that warm my heart, as well as the things that shame me. I always go to bed with a clear conscience.

Many people have a specific place where they pray and meditate--a quiet corner, a chair, maybe a room where the distractions of life are shut out and they can focus on God and His providence. And indeed, when deadlines loom and life's pressures seem overwhelming, I have places at home and at the office where I can go to my knees and pray for guidance. But for everyday, routine communication with God, my special place is on my feet, running with God; or often, just strolling through His creation, listening for His voice.

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Stephen Chavez is managing editor of the Adventist Review.