Monday morning (Memorial Day), after sleeping in longer than intended, I got back on two wheels for a brief morning ride.
Just a couple of minutes after leaving the house (about 3/4 of a mile into my ride), a bug perched on board, just next to my iPhone and it sat on my handlebars. I almost swatted it, but instead…I just glanced down from time to time, curious as to where this little guy (or gal) might be headed on this Memorial Day.
Around mile 4, I began to truly ponder what this bug was up to. What did it think it was doing? Where did it think it would end up? Did it think that I cared where it would end up? Was it afraid? Did it know that danger was possible wherever it might end up?
Then, I thought a bit closer to home. Me. When I decided long ago to follow Jesus, what was I doing? How bad was my former life that I basically chose to leap into the ‘unknown’ to see where this path might lead me? Was it just about going to heaven or would there be more to this life? Did I think that Jesus cared about any of it? Me? My future? My zip code? My bank account? Did I think that Jesus cared, or that it was even possible for Him to care? I was afraid…for sure, yes. I still am, at times. After all, even His word promises there will be trouble. However, I’m way more afraid to go back (to being apart from Christ) than I am about following His lead. He is good. Me, not so special. My decision making process apart from Him, led me to what I was fleeing in the first place.
Mile 8 (ish). Uphill, a bit slower. Less of a cool breeze, even if just for a short time. I began noticing movement. Sure enough, at about the slowest, least exciting portion of the ride (the uphill battle aka Thomas Spring Road), the bug decided enough was enough.
Perhaps I wasn’t moving quickly enough for it. The breeze and the action wasn’t quite as exciting as it was looking for. The grass was greener, perhaps, in the nearby fields than it is just off of Main Street in Bridgewater. I mean, that cabin, it is a beauty. That wrap-around porch would be a heavenly home for such a bug. The bug, whether happy now or not, is in a new, beautiful, yet unfamiliar environment. I think it’ll be fine. It’ll adapt…or it’s in the belly of a frog… Anyway, forget the bug. We had a good ride, but this isn’t about the bug…or me.
Things aren’t always moving in the direction I’d prefer, at the speed I’d prefer, and with the cool breeze that I might prefer. It’s tempting, at times, to hop off the handlebars and find my own way. Tempting, but not that tempting. Been there, done that. It’s overrated. The grass is sometimes greener because the poop (the fertilizer) has been spread a bit thicker there…
I’m not going back. I want to go where He is going…and I do believe that Jesus is still moving in this life. He’s not just waiting around. I want to be following where He is leading…a front row, handlebar-style seat even. There will be uphill battles. He was aware of those before He took those routes. Jesus never avoided hills…He just spoke from them. And He spoke to me through one, just this past Monday…in more ways than one.
He spoke through a donkey (Numbers 22). He still speaks…through bugs perhaps, and apparently through hills.