They say a typical person walks three miles in an hour. That makes three miles an hour the pace of walking. That’s the pace at which I’m trying (not always successfully) to live my life, vocation, spirituality and more.

A few years ago I started walking more. Mostly I began by taking an afternoon walk around the block instead of tearing into that Snickers. After a while it turned into something more: I made the commitment that walking would be my primary mode of transportation. “I didn’t know you drove!” a friend recently exclaimed, adding, “Do you even have a license?” Yes, I do drive. Getting the kids to school, out of town meetings for work, long road trips for family vacation, even the occasional hurry across town for an appointment. And even though my friend’s incredulous question was tongue in cheek, it was only mostly so. You see, I started walking more and more. All around our city. And it didn’t take long before I sold our family’s second car, because we just didn’t use it enough. Along the way I started using #ThreeMileAnHourPastor as a hashtag, because I was walking everywhere. And now it’s something even greater: more than a way to get around town, more than a way to save money, more than a means to exercise. It’s bigger than a hashtag. It’s become a way of life.

I hope that doesn’t sound too grandiose, but it is really how I think about it. I am trying to take a three mile an hour approach to life: my vocation, my leadership, my spirituality. Walking slows you down, literally. By nature I’m a fast-paced person, a runner, a doer, an adventurer, so I’m learning to let slowness saturate my soul. I want to learn to pay attention to people I interact with: my friends, my wife, my kids, strangers I share the street corner with, the members of my church. I want to learn to really see them. And then love and lead and serve from that place. I want to be interruptible. No one interrupts a car, not without getting flipped off by the driver. But I’m learning to create margins in my life, white space at the edge of my awareness, my calendar, my budget, so that I can approach interruptions as opportunities. Opportunities to connect. Opportunities to learn. Opportunities to serve. Opportunities for wonder. I guess it’s like the cliché stop and smell the roses, yet for me it’s more about the opportunity to pause long enough to pay enough attention that we discern God’s presence and recognize God’s work.

That’s a little of why I walk. I hope you keep visiting this blog to join me on the journey. I look forward to seeing you on the trail.