The Treadmill

David W. Ebel

When I gave my heart to Jesus, all I knew was that I wanted to please Him with every ounce of my being.

I thought about Him. I lived for Him. I couldn’t get my mind off Him. If something on television wasn’t about Jesus, I didn’t have time for it. My recreational reading became spiritually inspiring reading. I wanted everything to help me know Him more.

And I burned like a bright candle for a while.

Then it happened. Somewhere along the way, loving Jesus became tangled up with doing things for Jesus. I stepped onto a treadmill, and I didn’t know how to get off.

I began watching friends and people around me whom I believed were serious Christians. They read other books. They had other interests. They didn’t always spend as much time praying and reading the Bible as I did.

It confused me. How could they love Jesus and not be doing what I was doing?

I didn’t understand balance yet.

God allowed me to take part in my first ministry service project. Compared with what I eventually did with my life, it wasn’t much. But for a new believer, that first opportunity is a big deal.

Our church had a Christian coffeehouse called the Crossroads Coffee House. Teens and young adults helped run it on weekends. We would bring in somebody who could play guitar and sing, serve coffee and snacks, and spend time together.

But for me, the highlight was the chapel attached to the recreation room. That was where we prayed for one another, listened to one another, and ministered to one another.

I wanted to stay there.

I got into trouble right away because I didn’t want to do the other chores. I wanted to be in the prayer area. So, to give me something to do and keep me busy, they assigned me the coffee pot.

This was one of those great big, 56-cup, industrial coffee pots. I had never dealt with anything like it.

We would plug it in when we turned on the lights. An hour later, we might have warm coffee. After about an hour and a half, people were enjoying it.

Then I would notice there was room for more water.

Well, that was my job, wasn’t it? Keep the coffee pot full!

I would race over and add water. Of course, that cooled off the coffee already in there. I didn’t drink coffee, so that never occurred to me.

Suddenly, nobody wanted coffee for another 45 minutes to an hour.

I was busy. I was willing. I wanted to help.

But I wasn’t listening.

That coffee pot became a little picture of something I would struggle with for years. Being busy and being helpful aren’t always the same thing.

As I grew, I began to understand that our walk with God needs balance. We need prayer. We need Bible study and spiritual nourishment. We need fellowship, especially when we’re struggling or someone else needs us beside them.

And sometimes we need to get together and have fun. Wholesome, healthy fun.

But coming from an alcoholic background, with compulsive and addictive patterns in my life, I couldn’t seem to do half of anything. I was either doing nothing or going all in and over the top.

People would tell me, “Slow down. You don’t have to go so fast.”

But I was thinking, Jesus could come at any moment. People need Him. How can we waste time?

Initially, I didn’t get it. God wanted me to live for Him, but I was running around like a gerbil on its wheel.

Of course, we adults have a more respectable version.

We call it a treadmill.

You can run hard on a treadmill. You can wear yourself out. But when you step off, you may discover you haven’t moved forward.

Over time, I grew and found some balance. My ministry began as a layman and eventually became a credentialed ministry position.

But I was still working 40 hours a week for a company and putting another 40 hours into the coffeehouse and church.

The pastor discipling me worked in ministry full time. I later learned that he had told people how much preparation it took to keep me supplied with things to do. What hurt was hearing that my doing so much allowed him to take it easy.

I wasn’t sorry I had served. I was thrilled to serve.

But I wondered why there hadn’t been more time spent teaching me balance. Restraint. Listening. Friendship. How to enjoy fellowship as peers, instead of always doing something together.

To this day, doing things comes more easily to me than getting together simply to chat and enjoy someone’s company—even though I cherish those moments when they happen.

If I don’t stop and pay attention, that old compulsiveness takes over. I look back at the end of the week and see all the going and doing, but very little resting or fellowship.

The treadmill is still there. I have to notice when I’ve stepped back onto it.

When I was young, older Christians would pat my shoulder and say, “It’s okay, my young friend. That zeal is wonderful. Enjoy it while you have it. The day will come when you have to slow down.”

I looked at them like they had three heads.

Why would I want to slow down?

Nobody really explained how to keep the fire without burning myself out. I was encouraged to witness and serve, but I needed help learning how to become a whole believer.

Instead, I sometimes worried that I was burning brighter while others were slipping backward. I didn’t yet understand that a quieter pace doesn’t necessarily mean a weaker faith.

Philippians 4:13 has always been one of the pillars of my life:

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” [1]

But I have had to learn that depending on His strength includes admitting that I have limits.

Another promise I treasure is God’s assurance:

“I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” — Hebrews 13:5

And Jesus said:

“I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” — Matthew 28:20

Always.

Good days and bad days. Painful days and joyful days. When things are going terribly and when things are going wonderfully.

He is with me.

What a comfort that is.

But I wish more people had slowed down to help me understand how to live in that relationship. A new believer needs more than something to do.

Some people who came to Jesus around the time I did seem, even years later, unsure how to move forward. They attend church, read their Bibles, give, and volunteer. Those things matter.

Yet some have never been helped to pray with another person, explain their faith, or walk beside someone who is struggling.

When I see that, I wonder where we failed to teach them.

Maturity cannot be measured simply by how many church jobs we hold. It should also show how we love people.

Helping a senior across the street can be an honor. Listening to someone can be ministry. Meeting a need can reflect God’s love.

Yet I notice people around me who seem to live by that old McDonald’s slogan: “You deserve a break today.” They’re always looking for their next break, while someone nearby could use a little help.

What if we thought about giving somebody else a break today because of Jesus?

We all need rest. I’m still learning that myself. But we also need to notice when another person needs us.

Please hear my heart. I’m reflecting on my own life, too.

After more than 50 years of serving the Lord, I’m concerned about the next generation and the one after that. Are we helping them learn to live fully in Christ? Are we teaching them to pray, listen, love, rest, and serve?

If a tree never develops roots, what happens when the storm comes?

If we never teach someone to swim, what happens when the flood comes?

And if we see someone struggling spiritually, but we don’t know how to help, do we simply walk away? Or do we find someone who can help us walk beside them?

We don’t have to know everything. But we can care enough to stay involved.

So what do we do? How do we change?

I believe the first thing is to ask God for revival in me. In you. In us.

When I look in the mirror, I need to ask God to change that man. To help him become more like Jesus.

Psalm 46:10 says:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” [2]

I need that reminder. I can’t always be running, talking, and doing.

Sometimes I need to slow down, read His Word, and listen. When I hear preaching or teaching, I need to open my heart and allow God to speak to me.

Then, as I look at the people around me, I can ask, Lord, who are You asking me to notice? Where is there a need I can help meet?

This afternoon, I received a phone call from a widow who is homeless and sleeping on a bus bench.

She told me she had been without income for three months. While she was living in Hawaii, someone robbed her and took her identification. Replacing it has been difficult because she doesn’t have the documents needed to prove who she is.

She doesn’t even have a sleeping bag or a good blanket.

The Salvation Army is helping feed her. But what about the rest of her life?

Who could bring a blanket? Who could listen? Who could help her get to Social Security or connect with the right services?

I’ve heard people say, “That’s why we have social services. That’s what government programs are for.”

I’m grateful when those services help. But their existence doesn’t remove our opportunity to care.

A program cannot give the hug that you can give. And somebody may need help reaching the very services we assume will take care of everything.

I wonder whether, as more services became available, some of us stopped looking for what we could personally do.

I know I need to ask that of myself.

Have I become so busy—even with good things—that I’ve stopped noticing the person beside me?

I want to be Jesus with skin on, as people sometimes say. By that, I mean letting His love become visible through how I treat someone.

Paraphrased from Matthew 25:35–40: Jesus connects caring for people in need with service offered to Him. [3]

As I pour my heart out, please understand: this convicts me.

I can spend my life running on the treadmill—busy, tired, always doing something—and still miss the person God has placed right in front of me.

I need time with Him. I need rest. I need fellowship. And I need to remain willing when He shows me someone to love.

Maybe I’m among those who need to dig deeper.

How about you?

Scripture Notes

[1] Philippians 4:13, KJV. In Philippians 4:11–13, Paul describes learning contentment through both need and abundance. Christ’s strength sustains him in those circumstances. My application here is that trusting Christ does not require pretending I have no human limits.

[2] Psalm 46:10, KJV. The surrounding psalm describes God’s power amid upheaval, nations, and war. Its call to stillness is a call to acknowledge His sovereignty. I apply that truth personally as a reminder to stop striving long enough to listen and trust Him.

[3] Matthew 25:35–40. This is a paraphrased summary, not a direct quotation. “Jesus with skin on” is a familiar illustration, not wording from Scripture. In this passage, Jesus speaks of feeding, welcoming, clothing, and visiting those in need, connecting that care with service to Him.

Other quotations: Hebrews 13:5 and Matthew 28:20 are quoted from the KJV. Hebrews presents the assurance that God will not abandon His people; Matthew records Jesus’ promise of His continuing presence as He commissions His disciples.