I’ve heard people speak about the “runner’s high” with a kind of pushiness, like it’s a secret they’ve discovered. They describe it as lightness, euphoria, and seem to wish that I could have that feeling too. I’ve tried running in the past—I know the rhythm, the breath, that need to use the will to keep going—but that high? I’ve never found it. If anything, I’ve known the opposite: heaviness, boredom, and a sense that I’d rather be walking.

And yet, one of my sons said it again this week: “You just have to push through, Mum—you’ll feel it.” I don’t doubt his experience. I just can’t manufacture it for myself.

It makes me think of how we talk, as Christians, about the presence of God. There’s a similar language sometimes – of joy, fire, fullness. We long for others to experience it, to “catch it,” to know what we know. But that feeling doesn’t come on cue, and certainly not just because we want it for them.

Surely there are times when faith feels more like endurance than exhilaration, if we’re honest? “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Not feel, but know.

Finding peace in the everyday is worth sharing, too. Not every step with God feels like flying; sometimes it feels like simply continuing. People may be searching for something other than a new high or a feeling of fullness. For many, peace and a sense of being loved and cared for are the goals.

Whether running or believing, not every journey is marked by a high. Some are marked by faithfulness. And that kind of quiet glory is less exhilarating, less dramatic, but no less real.