(Post by: Lilly Hobbs)
This Easter season has been weighing on my heart even more than usual. I’m not quite sure why that is the case. Perhaps it’s the multitude of Easter lessons I have taught students over the last few weeks, or maybe it’s due to where I am in my personal Bible reading currently (the Israelite’s wilderness wanderings), or possibly even personal life circumstances and struggles.
All I know is that I have cherished this time of focusing so intentionally on the cross and resurrection of Christ. For once, I feel that time has been my friend, providing me with opportunity after opportunity to really soak this story in again.
In fact, just a couple weeks ago, in the middle of an ordinary night, the Lord met me in a way I didn’t expect.
My fiancé and I went to a Phil Wickham concert, a day trip we had both been looking forward to for months. It was on this very night that the Lord gave me this Passion Week post.
About halfway through the concert, Phil Wickham moved over to the piano on stage, and as the room grew quieter, he began to worship to a song titled, “Running to a Runaway.”
Although I was already familiar with the lyrics to this powerful song, the Lord began to reveal the depth of His love to me in a new way.
As I stood there listening, something about the words wouldn’t let me move on. This song so beautifully illustrates how Jesus is always running to the runaway. Go to the end of every story He has told, and you will see it: the father running toward the prodigal son, the relentless pursuit of the Israelites in the wilderness despite their constant disobedience and wandering, the rescue of Matthew from his tax collector booth, the restoration of Peter after his denial, and even mercy extended to a thief in his final moments.
Then a question settled in, one many of us would probably rather avoid… What does running away actually look like? Could it be subtle drifting? Disobedience? Numbness? Shame-driven hiding?
You see, I don’t think most of us run in obvious rebellion… I think we drift. Quietly. Slowly. Until we look up and realize we are far from home.
And maybe that’s why Easter has felt so heavy on my heart this year.
Easter is not the story of people pursuing and finding God. It is the story of God running toward people who didn’t even realize they were lost.
“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)
If nothing else, Passion Week has shown me this, both gently and unmistakably: I am a runaway. A runaway who was never meant to be this far from home.
Yet, Jesus is the Onе who finds me where I am but doesn’t leave me there.
Standing there that night, listening to those words, I realized something I don’t want to forget…
I am the runaway, absolutely. But I am also the one He is running toward.
And maybe that’s the part of the story I’ve missed for far too long.
Somehow, in His great mercy, He doesn’t just bring runaways back, but He restores them and seats them at the table as if they were never gone.
Hallelujah!
The Few 
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