“The One Who Ran Beside Me”

“The One Who Ran Beside Me”

This evening, just outside of Scottsdale, Arizona, I decided to go for a run with a group of runners.

It had been a long time since I’d run. I’m more of a walker these days, the kind who moves quickly but likes to take in everything around me. Still, something about that evening called me higher. The sun was setting behind the desert hills, spilling gold across the sky. The air felt soft, still, almost sacred.

As everyone gathered, there was laughter, energy, and that familiar sense of competition in the air. Then the pack took off, feet hitting the ground in rhythm until they disappeared up the trail.

But I stayed behind, waiting for a friend.

He’s one of those rare people you meet in life who carries real substance. He lives with reverence, sincerity, gentleness, and supportiveness. His reverence is felt in the way he listens and moves through the world with quiet respect. His sincerity shows up as honesty, the kind that never needs to announce itself. His gentleness reveals itself as kindness, and his supportiveness comes alive through his servant heart. He doesn’t just talk about leadership. He lives it.

While everyone else was already running, he was still tying his shoes. I waited until he was ready. When he stood up, we exchanged a simple nod and started running together, chasing the pack ahead of us.

At first, it felt good to move again. My legs remembered what they used to do, and for a moment, I thought maybe I still had it. But about a mile in, the burn came back. My lungs were working hard, my body fighting against what it hadn’t done in years.

That’s when he looked over and asked, “Are you a runner?”

I laughed through my breath and said, “Not anymore. I’m just a walker who moves fast.”

He smiled, nodded, and kept running right beside me.

He’s a former hockey player, strong and disciplined. I knew he could have gone faster, maybe twice my pace, but he didn’t. He stayed right there with me, every step, every stride. The sun was dropping lower, painting the desert sky in deep orange and red. The world around us felt still, except for the sound of our footsteps.

In that moment, I realized something powerful. Love and leadership aren’t about who can move the fastest or get the furthest ahead. They’re about who’s willing to stay when they don’t have to.

Every step beside him said something deeper than words ever could. It spoke of patience, humility, friendship, and faith. It reminded me that the most powerful people in this world are not the ones who chase recognition, but the ones who quietly show up for others when it would be easier to leave.

By the time we finished, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, leaving streaks of pink and gold across the horizon. I wasn’t out of breath anymore. I was full of gratitude.

Grateful for a friend who stayed. Grateful for a God who sends reminders through simple moments like this. Grateful for love that doesn’t need to be loud to be strong.

That evening, I didn’t just finish a run. I witnessed what it means to live with reverence, sincerity, gentleness, and supportiveness…the kind of values that turn a simple run into something eternal.