The lap I run with god

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**Title: "The Lap I Run With God"**
**Genre: Christian Fiction / Coming-of-Age**
**Narrative Style: First Person**

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### **Chapter One: The Sound of Gravel**

They say you can't hear God speak like a man does.

But every morning, when my shoes hit the gravel and the fog hasn't yet burned off the hills, I swear I can hear Him in the rhythm of my steps, the way the wind cuts through the pines, the breath in my chest that I didn't put there myself.

My name's Micah. I'm sixteen, and I live in a log cabin that was built with hands more calloused than my heart used to be. We're surrounded by woods on all sides. No neighbors, no cell signal, just trees and truth-and the lap I run every day.

One lap around our property is about a mile, but I don't count miles anymore. I just run until the weight in my chest lightens and my thoughts stop arguing. It's not about time. It's about presence.

About *His* presence.

I give every lap to Him. Jesus Christ, my God. Not a god of stone or vague feelings or pretty speeches in youth group. But the kind who sat with me on the floor the night I thought I couldn't take another breath. The kind who didn't roll His eyes when I cried about stuff I couldn't even name. The kind who never left, not even once.

I don't run with earbuds. I run with silence. Or sometimes I hum worship songs until they don't feel like words anymore, just heartbeat and hope.

Today, the air bites with early autumn. The sky's a dull gray, and the clouds are holding back something-rain maybe. Or revelation. I never know which it'll be.
spiral.