An interesting phenomena is happening to me.

After decades of thinking I had it all together, I’ve realized that I really don’t have a clue. That’s not the interesting phenomena. That’s simply a statement of fact.

I’ve always prided myself at being able to cover ground, get things done, nose to the grindstone, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, charge single-handed into the midst of adversaries more numerous than I.

Now I’m discovering a new concept: “lingering.” Also known as “hanging out” or in a more proper vernacular, “waiting.”

It really hit me this weekend at the conference we attended. On the last night, everything was really over. The speakers had left the building, it was almost midnight, the lights had even been flicked a couple of things as an encouragement for everyone else to please go home.

But we stayed.

There was still activity occurring around us, but it didn’t involve us. Yet, we didn’t want to leave.

Strange.

We knew we were in the presence of the divine (God, the Spirit, call it what you will), and He was still moving. And that awareness kept us glued in place. Watching. Soaking.

I’d already noticed this tendency over the last couple of months as I’d read in the Word. I was discovering everything all over again and couldn’t get away from the passages I was reading. I’d be stuck for days, or even weeks, in a chapter or even just a few verses. I’m currently stuck in Romans 8 and can’t find my way out.

Strange.

I guess I’m running like a sloth right now. And it feels good.