In high school I dated a guy who loved to ride bikes. And by bike riding I mean, he was a real deal cyclist. He had one of those legit bicycles with really skinny legit wheels. He'd ride all over town, rain or shine in legit spandex outfits. And when it was really hot, he'd wear a legit back pack with an attached straw so he could drink without having to stop. Clearly, I knew how to pick them. :)
One afternoon, I had the brilliant idea of going on a bike ride together. So he came over to my house and helped me fish a bike out of my garage. The fact that said bike had streamers on the handlebars and very little air in the tires should give you some clue as to the last time it had been ridden. But I wasn't about to let a little thing like outdated equipment deter me. This bike ride was going to be fun! I was supporting his love of traveling on two wheels by joining in.
About 15 minutes into the trip, my brilliant idea backfired. Before I knew it, we were going uphill. It wasn't a steep hill, but it was long. A steady, gradual incline that went on and on and on.
So I did what any girl who hasn't ridden a bike since she hit double digits would have done. I stood up on the pedals and leaned in to the hill.
About this time Lance, who was a little ways ahead of me, looked over his shoulder.
"Rach, sit down on the seat!"
Huffing and puffing, "It's easier this way."
"No, it's not, you need to sit down."
Gasping for breath, "But all those guys on TV ride standing up!"
"That's because they're riding up the French Alps."
I'm gonna show him a French Alp.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how Jesus prepared his disciples for persecution. How he warned them that a life lived for Him was not going to be easy. (John 16:33)
Danny and I have felt attacked by a certain situation for almost a year now. Just as we think we've seen the end of it, it rears its ugly head, bringing us to our knees once again. I have found myself pleading with God to just take it away altogether. To please, be done with it already. Enough!
When I get really discouraged, I find myself wishing I could just crest the hill of a spiritual battle and coast down the other side. Just to have a little break. To rest my weary legs.
Then last night, this thought hit me. If God granted me the relief I seek and allowed me to coast it out, eventually, I'd come to a stop.
A spiritual ride that coasts will end in complacency. It's just a matter of time. And our God is not about complacency. He is moving. He is going somewhere. And He has called us to get our feet to the pedals and keep on keeping on. (James 1:12)
Any human on the planet can find rest in an easy situation. Even
I can coast downhill on a bike with ease.
But How much bigger is it to find rest while still going uphill? It is other worldly to be in the midst of a difficult situation and to find peace anyway. To spin with all your might and know the strength the task requires
does not have to come from you!
That is what God is about. Not making our lives easy. Or making all the obstacles disappear. Rather, He's about getting us through the fire and carrying us over the mountain so that when we have made it to the other side intact, we can stand in awe of what God and God alone has done. He has done great things.
"I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them."
Psalm 34:4-7
