Which Gives a Whole New Meaning to Shameless

I have a very dedicated running posse that includes a bunch of guys I've never met.

Chris Tomlin, Jeremy Camp, Mac Powell, Aaron Shust, and Phillips, Craig and Dean, to name a few.

There are the days where I need Jon Bon Jovi and Steven Tyler to keep me rockin' along, but that was not today.

It's no secret that the music blares through the miracle of the iPod while I run. If I can actually hear myself breathe, I'm tend to think I'm dying rather than working out, which is just an ugly thought. So instead, I crank up the tunes and keep going.

This morning I needed some serious worship. I mean, SERIOUS. I wasn't in the mood to be introspective, heart-searching, and all that.

I needed to fully absorb God's truth, strength, and power.

The gym I go to is a not-so-swanky, strip-mall-small, and very "intimate" little joint in the sense that I can smell the breath and armpits of the runners on the treadmills next to me.

So I find it kind of embarrassing that I occasionally get so lost in the music that I close my eyes, only to open them and find myself with my hands raised. So far, no one has shut off my treadmill or thought I was volunteering to stay after and wipe down the machines.

Today, however, I rocked out in rare form. Losing all sense of time and most certainly, location, I even found myself clapping through a chorus or two.

My high (or low, depending on if you were on the elliptical behind me) was when I think I actually shook an imaginary tambourine against my thigh during "My Redeemer Lives." I felt that was what the song required at the moment, and just couldn't hold it in.

Apparently I envisioned myself on an exercise segment of the "Sonny and Cher Show" in the 70's sharing Jesus love with the runners around me and felt the need to play some pretend percussion.

Perhaps I've missed my calling.

To add to this already embarrassing picture, the tears started flowing during "In Christ Alone." And warning y'all: CRYING AND RUNNING MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT MIX. Talk about hyperventilation...

But I would like to add that anything that gives praise to Jesus and allows me to eat an extra chocolate peanut butter cup cookie can't be half bad.

Glory.