A few years ago my daughter sent me a photo, where she is sitting on a cycle in Central Park, New York. Under the photo, she has written, ‘thank you for teaching me cycling daddy!’ It was while looking at her picture that I came across this lovely article on cycling: At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited reward or punishment when I die.
He was out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn’t know Him.
But later on when I met God, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a double-seater bike, and I noticed God was in the back helping me cycle. I don’t know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since.
When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable it was the shortest distance between two points.
But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places at breakneck speeds.
It was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, “Pedal!” I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer, and I started to learn to trust.
I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure, and when I’d say, “I’m scared,” He’d lean back and touch my hand.
I gained love, peace, acceptance and joy; gifts to take on my journey, God’s and mine. And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away. They’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.
I did not trust Him, at first, in control of my life. I thought He’d wreck it; but he knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend, to take sharp corners, knows how to jump to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten, scary passages.
And I am learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, God.
And when I’m sure I just can’t do it anymore, He just smiles and says… “Cycle Bob, cycle!” And that’s exactly my dear reader, what I intend doing. Just cycle. So often common sense comes in the way and tells me not to take a risk, not to climb a mountain, not to take the rough and narrow, but then I smile as I remember who sits in front and holds the handle bar. That all I have to do is cycle, just pedal as He leads me on..!
