This was written in February of this year. I don't remember much of the circumstance I was in, I just know that it wasn't fun. With whatever you are going through, I hope this helps.
The Mindless Ramblings of A College Nothing:
The lure of idols,
lures me in,
begging me stay.
The call of God,
calls me out,
begging me go.
The truth is this:
fear holds me
while time slips by.
How do I leave
When my mind
tells me to stay?
How do I stay
when my heart
bids me to go?
"Please, call to me"
is the cry
of peace and love.
"Please, run to me"
is the plea
of pain and hurt.
Pain and hurt are
the things I
know so very well,
But love and peace
are all that
I seem to need.
"Hope and trust!"
I can't...
"Taste and see!"
It doesn't help...
"Spirit and truth!"
That's the problem...
"You're redeemed!"
Really?
"I love you!"
How?
"I gave Him!"
Why?
"You're worth it!"
Doubt it...
"You suck!"
i know...
"I killed him!"
it's true...
"I hate you!"
yeah...
"You're dying!"
aren't we all?
Why do the lies
seem so right,
and not the truth?
Can I even trust
this small voice
crying in my mind?
Hope is a ploy.
Joy isn't truth.
Hurt, pain, that's truth.
"Enough!"
Of what?
"All of this!"
Why?
"My peace is greater!"
Nothing can be...
"Trust in Me!"
How?
"Believe!"
In what?
"Love."
With just one word,
I am dropped.
My tears race down.
The hurt fades out.
My pain leaves.
Love floods my core.
It heals old wounds,
soothes old scars.
It frees my soul.
Thank you!
"You're welcome..."
I love you!
"I know..."
Forgive me!
"I have..."
Hold me!
"Always..."
I start to sleep,
truly full.
No pain or hurt.
Love and peace lead,
ever, always,
to hope and joy.
Keep me close God,
close to you.
Never let me stray.
"Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!" Ps. 34:8
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
The War Within
"Or do you not know, brothers--for I am speaking to those who know the Law--that the Law is binding on a person as long as he lives? Thus a woman is bound by law to her husband while he lives, but if her husband dies she is released from the law of marriage. Accordingly, she will be called an adulteress if she lives with another man while her husband is alive. But, if her husband dies, she is free from that law, and if she marries another man she is not an adulteress. Likewise, my brothers, you also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that you may belong to another, to him who has been raised from the dead, in order that we may bear fruit for God. For while we were living in the flesh, our sinful passions, aroused (yes, aroused) by the law, were at work in our members to bear fruit for death. But now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve not under the old written code but in the new life of the Spirit.
What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, 'You shall not covet.' But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. Apart from the law, sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin.
I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin." Romans 7
You know, there are times when I love Paul and what he has to say about the Christian life, but, there are those times when I really wish he would have just kept his mouth shut. This chapter tends to summarize those times for me.
Paul tells the Roman church(es) that they are free from the law because they are under grace (Romans 5). Then, he tells them that, even though they are under grace, it doesn't give them a free pass to do whatever they want (Romans 6). He tells them (and us) that they/we are no longer to be slaves to sin for we/they are free from it. Instead, we/they are to be slaves to righteousness.
That's all well and good, until we get to chapter 7. That is where Paul gets flat out confusing. He expounds on why we/they are free from the law: the law aroused sin in our bodies. And yes, when he says "aroused," he does mean in the same way that men and women are aroused by each other. Sin sees an opportunity and wants it really bad. In reality, our body has a desire and our reaction to fulfill that desire is sin. We know it is sin, but we still do it. So Paul, being Paul, gets even more confusing.
In anticipation of their question (and probably some of yours), he approaches the question of "Is the Law evil?" No, never. The Law was given by God to his people to show what he expected. We humans, however, see what God expects and we desire the opposite (before we accept Christ, that is). So, since it was given by God, and is what God expects of us, it cannot be evil and must be holy.
He anticipates another question and tells them/us that the Law did not kill us. We, in essence, killed ourselves because of sin. Sin did the killing, not the Law.
Now, we come to my favorite and least favorite part of this chapter. Paul jumps into this tirade about what he does. I can see him, pacing back and forth as he blurts out these words. The poor scribe is trying desperately to keep up and the emotion from Paul is flowing freely.
He says, "I want to do what is right, according to God. I see it and know that it is right, but I have a problem. Whenever I see what is right, I also see what is wrong. And I find this to be true about me (you probably do too, I sure do): when I want to do what is right, evil lies close at hand. I can't help it! My mind wants to serve God and follow him, but my body, man, my body wants to live for itself! I'm left with this doppleganger effect! There are two identities in me: Christ and my flesh. In my mind, I want Christ. But I have a hard time making my body do the same."
I know Paul's frustration well. I feel it daily. For I do things I don't want to do, and I don't do the things that I want and need to do! It drives me insane! But, Paul then gives us/them these words, "Who will deliver me from this body of death? Praise be to the Lord Jesus Christ!"
He asks a legitimate question. "If this body is killing me, and if I cannot always do what is right because of it, who will save me from it?" The answer is Jesus Christ. He will save me from this body that wants to do evil. Unfortunately, as Paul notes, it's not while we are still alive. "So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin."
As long as we live in this body, we will fight this war with it. We won't always win every battle, but, we will win the war...through Christ's saving grace.
Have hope, Christ has won the day. Persevere, we won't always be in this fight. Have faith, God knows what he is doing.
And don't forget what Romans 8:1-4 say: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit."
Thanks God. You rock.
What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, 'You shall not covet.' But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. Apart from the law, sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin.
I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin." Romans 7
You know, there are times when I love Paul and what he has to say about the Christian life, but, there are those times when I really wish he would have just kept his mouth shut. This chapter tends to summarize those times for me.
Paul tells the Roman church(es) that they are free from the law because they are under grace (Romans 5). Then, he tells them that, even though they are under grace, it doesn't give them a free pass to do whatever they want (Romans 6). He tells them (and us) that they/we are no longer to be slaves to sin for we/they are free from it. Instead, we/they are to be slaves to righteousness.
That's all well and good, until we get to chapter 7. That is where Paul gets flat out confusing. He expounds on why we/they are free from the law: the law aroused sin in our bodies. And yes, when he says "aroused," he does mean in the same way that men and women are aroused by each other. Sin sees an opportunity and wants it really bad. In reality, our body has a desire and our reaction to fulfill that desire is sin. We know it is sin, but we still do it. So Paul, being Paul, gets even more confusing.
In anticipation of their question (and probably some of yours), he approaches the question of "Is the Law evil?" No, never. The Law was given by God to his people to show what he expected. We humans, however, see what God expects and we desire the opposite (before we accept Christ, that is). So, since it was given by God, and is what God expects of us, it cannot be evil and must be holy.
He anticipates another question and tells them/us that the Law did not kill us. We, in essence, killed ourselves because of sin. Sin did the killing, not the Law.
Now, we come to my favorite and least favorite part of this chapter. Paul jumps into this tirade about what he does. I can see him, pacing back and forth as he blurts out these words. The poor scribe is trying desperately to keep up and the emotion from Paul is flowing freely.
He says, "I want to do what is right, according to God. I see it and know that it is right, but I have a problem. Whenever I see what is right, I also see what is wrong. And I find this to be true about me (you probably do too, I sure do): when I want to do what is right, evil lies close at hand. I can't help it! My mind wants to serve God and follow him, but my body, man, my body wants to live for itself! I'm left with this doppleganger effect! There are two identities in me: Christ and my flesh. In my mind, I want Christ. But I have a hard time making my body do the same."
I know Paul's frustration well. I feel it daily. For I do things I don't want to do, and I don't do the things that I want and need to do! It drives me insane! But, Paul then gives us/them these words, "Who will deliver me from this body of death? Praise be to the Lord Jesus Christ!"
He asks a legitimate question. "If this body is killing me, and if I cannot always do what is right because of it, who will save me from it?" The answer is Jesus Christ. He will save me from this body that wants to do evil. Unfortunately, as Paul notes, it's not while we are still alive. "So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin."
As long as we live in this body, we will fight this war with it. We won't always win every battle, but, we will win the war...through Christ's saving grace.
Have hope, Christ has won the day. Persevere, we won't always be in this fight. Have faith, God knows what he is doing.
And don't forget what Romans 8:1-4 say: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit."
Thanks God. You rock.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Unwrapped Presents
It sat under the tree with my name on it. I wanted so bad pick it up and shake the package to get a hint, but was afraid that it was breakable. I wanted even more to rip the gold and silver-starred paper off the box and find out what it was, but, if I did that, my parents would, probably, ground me. So, there I sat, day in and day out, waiting the two weeks before Christmas to see if I could, by some small chance, get a clue as to what lay under that festive decor.
As Christmas day drew near, the number of presents under the tree began to grow and grow. Several of them had my name written on the tag, but none of these interested me as much as this first box. Two days before Christmas, I could no longer stand it. I had to do something to get a hint. I pulled out a ruler from my room and sat down to take the measurements of the box. It wasn't large, just eight inches long. It was four inches across and about four inches deep. It felt as though it weighed a couple of pounds, but I couldn't be sure without putting it on a scale, and I was not going to attempt to take a present from under the tree and weigh it and try to put it back without my parents noticing. I considered the list I gave my parents earlier in the month and tried to match it with something on there, but I came up empty. This puzzle kept me awake most of that night. It bothered me that I did not know what it was, but, finally, after hours of thought and self-argument, I fell asleep.
I awoke the next day, Christmas Eve, excited and anxious for the evening to come. It is tradition in my family to open one gift on Christmas Eve as an appetizer to the entree of Christmas Morning. I semi-patiently waited through the day, enjoying the football games and other activities of the day. The time came for our Christmas service at church, and we all loaded up and went. My sister, though, said she would meet us there soon, so we went on ahead and she followed, not even a minute later.
I asked her when we got to the church why she waited one more minute, but she acted like she didn't hear me and ignored the question. My answer, though, came when we got home. She had pulled a large box out, from who knows where, and put it next to the tree. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper and had a large red bow on it. I went over and looked at the tag next to the bow. It had my name on it and I was immediately intrigued. The small gold and silver package was pushed from my mind at the intrigue of this large gift. In that second, I decided to open this large package from my sister. So, a few minutes after my whole family sat down, the unanimous decision was it was time to open our one present. When it came to my turn, I tore into the paper. What it revealed was a new flat screen TV, for the apartment I just rented, and a blu-ray player. Excitement rolled through me! I couldn't believe my luck. It was the one thing I wanted most that year. For the rest of the night, my family and I talked and laughed and fiddled with/read about our new gifts, but it soon came time for bed. That night passed much quicker and more peaceful than the previous now that the small, curious package was out of my head.
The next morning, I was woken by my dog. My sister let her in and she jumped onto my bed. This, obviously, was meant for me to get up because it was time for the rest of the presents. I had fewer presents that morning than the rest of my family (due to the cost of the single gift my whole family chipped in on), but I didn't mind. It was nice to have what I was given. Finally, I came to the small, curious, gold and silver package that perplexed me for the previous week or more. As I held it in my hands, all the feelings brought on by this package flooded me once again. In excited anticipation I ripped the paper off the box to reveal an ordinary brown box. I searched for the tape that sealed the opening. I quickly sliced through the tape with scissors and pulled the contents of the box out. To my surprise, and enjoyment, spilled several blu-ray movies.
Suddenly, I was very thankful I chose the large package over this one the previous night. If I would have insisted on opening this one first, the other present would have been ruined! I would have enjoyed the movies if I had opened them the previous night, but, since I didn't already have a blu-ray player, I would have known I was getting one. The real gift, the TV and blu-ray player, made this package of my borderline obsession so much greater!
So, at this Christmas season, I must ask the question: What is it that you want most? What in this life do you want most? Is it peace? Happiness? Love? And, how do you know that those are not part of a larger, more meaningful gift? Are those the "gift" you want, or are they simply accessories to the true gift to make it better?
"I have come so that you may have life, and life to the fullest."--Jesus
As Christmas day drew near, the number of presents under the tree began to grow and grow. Several of them had my name written on the tag, but none of these interested me as much as this first box. Two days before Christmas, I could no longer stand it. I had to do something to get a hint. I pulled out a ruler from my room and sat down to take the measurements of the box. It wasn't large, just eight inches long. It was four inches across and about four inches deep. It felt as though it weighed a couple of pounds, but I couldn't be sure without putting it on a scale, and I was not going to attempt to take a present from under the tree and weigh it and try to put it back without my parents noticing. I considered the list I gave my parents earlier in the month and tried to match it with something on there, but I came up empty. This puzzle kept me awake most of that night. It bothered me that I did not know what it was, but, finally, after hours of thought and self-argument, I fell asleep.
I awoke the next day, Christmas Eve, excited and anxious for the evening to come. It is tradition in my family to open one gift on Christmas Eve as an appetizer to the entree of Christmas Morning. I semi-patiently waited through the day, enjoying the football games and other activities of the day. The time came for our Christmas service at church, and we all loaded up and went. My sister, though, said she would meet us there soon, so we went on ahead and she followed, not even a minute later.
I asked her when we got to the church why she waited one more minute, but she acted like she didn't hear me and ignored the question. My answer, though, came when we got home. She had pulled a large box out, from who knows where, and put it next to the tree. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper and had a large red bow on it. I went over and looked at the tag next to the bow. It had my name on it and I was immediately intrigued. The small gold and silver package was pushed from my mind at the intrigue of this large gift. In that second, I decided to open this large package from my sister. So, a few minutes after my whole family sat down, the unanimous decision was it was time to open our one present. When it came to my turn, I tore into the paper. What it revealed was a new flat screen TV, for the apartment I just rented, and a blu-ray player. Excitement rolled through me! I couldn't believe my luck. It was the one thing I wanted most that year. For the rest of the night, my family and I talked and laughed and fiddled with/read about our new gifts, but it soon came time for bed. That night passed much quicker and more peaceful than the previous now that the small, curious package was out of my head.
The next morning, I was woken by my dog. My sister let her in and she jumped onto my bed. This, obviously, was meant for me to get up because it was time for the rest of the presents. I had fewer presents that morning than the rest of my family (due to the cost of the single gift my whole family chipped in on), but I didn't mind. It was nice to have what I was given. Finally, I came to the small, curious, gold and silver package that perplexed me for the previous week or more. As I held it in my hands, all the feelings brought on by this package flooded me once again. In excited anticipation I ripped the paper off the box to reveal an ordinary brown box. I searched for the tape that sealed the opening. I quickly sliced through the tape with scissors and pulled the contents of the box out. To my surprise, and enjoyment, spilled several blu-ray movies.
Suddenly, I was very thankful I chose the large package over this one the previous night. If I would have insisted on opening this one first, the other present would have been ruined! I would have enjoyed the movies if I had opened them the previous night, but, since I didn't already have a blu-ray player, I would have known I was getting one. The real gift, the TV and blu-ray player, made this package of my borderline obsession so much greater!
So, at this Christmas season, I must ask the question: What is it that you want most? What in this life do you want most? Is it peace? Happiness? Love? And, how do you know that those are not part of a larger, more meaningful gift? Are those the "gift" you want, or are they simply accessories to the true gift to make it better?
"I have come so that you may have life, and life to the fullest."--Jesus
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Long Hill
My mom was overly cautious. She always yelled after me to be safe while riding my bike. "Watch out for that long hill, son!" That was always her final warning as I rode away. I always heard her, but I never really listened. On my bike, I was free. I knew she really didn't want me on the hill, but, it never failed, everyday I found myself standing at the top of the hill, straddling my Mongoose 21-speed. I went to it 6 or 7 times before my first attempt down. Each of those times, I chickened out before I could push myself over the edge. I remember the first time I went over the edge, though. I was nervous and scared. I pulled my hand off of the front brake, just in case I panicked. I didn't want to go over the handle bars because I pulled the front brake.
I didn't pedal. I just let gravity pull me down. I started going faster and faster. It scared me too much, so I pulled hard on the back brake and eased over to the grass so I could get off. I let the fear of what could happen stop me from going through with it and ended the ride too quickly. I walked my bike up the hill, got back on, looked behind me at the hill and then turned around and went home discouraged and ashamed of what I had done.
But, like before, I kept going back. It took me another two weeks before gathering the courage to try again. This time, I didn't ease into it, afraid that I would lose my resolve again like last time. But, in my haste, I forgot about the front brake. I started going down too fast, and went to hit the brake and tapped the front brake first. The front tire locked up and almost tipped the bike up in the air, but I let go quickly and hit the back brake. Again, I made it to the side before the end of the hill. Again, I walked my bike back up the hill. Again, I felt discouraged. Again, I went home unaccomplished.
However, day after day, I found myself staring down this long hill. This adversary of mine that I could not defeat, and, day after day, I went home without trying to ride the hill to the bottom. A month after my previous attempt, I found myself, unthinkingly, riding to the infamous hill. When I realized my destination, I gritted my teeth and vowed myself I wouldn't back out this time. I threw caution to the wind and went sailing over the edge and down the hill. The exhilaration of it thrilled me! The excitement that came along with this ride, fueled by adrenaline was incredible! It was like no other feeling I had known before. I finally realized what I had been missing out on! Suddenly, though, something on my left caught my attention. It flew past my eyes, so I turned my eyes back to the road down the hill. I saw the bottom of it! I was almost there! I was finally going to make it! Then, the turn at the end of the hill grabbed my attention. Panic overtook me. I had to slow down! I wasn't going to make that turn! I grabbed for the brakes, but I caught the front brake first. The front tire seized up and flipped me over the handle bars. I rolled down the hill, hearing the sickening crunches coming from my body as my bones broke. Finally I came to rest at the bottom of the hill with my bike laying on top of my broken body.
Luckily for me, my dad was driving past on his way home from work. He saw me laying on the ground, broken, and stopped. He ran over towards me from his truck. In my semi-conscious state, I knew that he would be upset with me. I knew he would be made that I tried to pull such a stupid stunt, but I heard nothing from him. Instead, he picked me up in his strong arms and sat me in his truck. He ran back and threw my bike in the bed and sped to the hospital. The doctors there were upset with him that he drove me himself instead of calling an ambulance, but he didn't care. He could hardly stand seeing me in that state for the 10 minute trip. There was no way he could handle just sitting with me until the ambulance got there unable to do anything.
The extent of my injuries were far deeper than physical. The broken leg, collar bone, wrist, fractured ribs, split head, and hundreds of bruises would all heal with rest. The true injuries wouldn't show up until later.
I took my time and healed. I had to get a new bike, too. My other was ruined. It was unable to be fixed and ridden again. I even waited several months after the doctors said it was physically okay for me to ride, to start riding again. After I did, I soon found myself returning to the cursed hill. It was the flame to my moth. I was drawn to it, to its allure and its frustration. My first trip back, was just to see it again. A scouting mission, if you will. It looked even more terrifying than before. I quickly turned around and went home.
The next time out there, I once again found myself on the edge. I took my foot off the pedal to steady myself, but as I did, my shoelace caught on the pedal and I fell over. My bike crashed down on top of my leg. I pushed the bike off of me and got up. My leg was bleeding and my bike was scratched up, but I got back on and rode home with pain shooting through my leg the whole time. At home, I examined my bike. The scratches had made it lose the gleam of a new bike. It was no longer perfect, but I decided a few scratches wasn't worth getting rid of a bike over. I could still ride it.
So, everyday for months I found myself staring down the hill. I had seen other people fly past me and go right down without any problems, but I couldn't seem to do that. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to make it down the hill and turn the corner. I had heard what it was like on the other side of the turn, but I wanted to know what it looked like myself. That, more than anything, kept drawing me back to that wretched hill.
After months of staring down the hill and watching people go past me, I decided I should try again. So, I did. I took off down the hill, determined to make it to the bottom and turn the corner. As I sped down the hill, I spotted a rock in the middle of the road. I swerved to the left to avoid it, but at the speed I was traveling, I couldn't control the bike. I went off the road and into the ditch. My bike hit the far wall of the ditch, bending the tire and pushing the front of the frame back. After it hit the wall, I fell off into the tall grass. I was unhurt, save a couple bruises that would heal quickly, but, once again, my bike was beyond repair. I carried it back up the hill and home.
Soon after, I got another new bike, and, soon after, I found myself staring down the hill. The emotional injuries of my two falls plague my mind. Every time I stand at the top of the hill, the memories of the falls replay in my mind and I back away and go home.
So, here I am, straddling my third bike as I watch my friends go over the edge without hesitation. Some make it to the bottom and some don't. Those that make it to the bottom turn the corner and those that don't make the bottom come back and try again. As I watch friend after friend fly down the long hill, I can't help but think back to the first attempt I made. I backed off, afraid of what could happen, even though that was probably the most ready I was to make the trip down the hill. I don't know if I would have made the corner and been okay, but I can't help but wonder about it. I want so bad to push myself over the edge and go down, but I'm so afraid of wrecking again that I freeze...
God forgives. God redeems. God loves. It doesn't matter if you've messed up before or not, God still loves. It doesn't matter if it's your first "bike" or your tenth. Don't let that be a hindrance. I'm trying not to...
I didn't pedal. I just let gravity pull me down. I started going faster and faster. It scared me too much, so I pulled hard on the back brake and eased over to the grass so I could get off. I let the fear of what could happen stop me from going through with it and ended the ride too quickly. I walked my bike up the hill, got back on, looked behind me at the hill and then turned around and went home discouraged and ashamed of what I had done.
But, like before, I kept going back. It took me another two weeks before gathering the courage to try again. This time, I didn't ease into it, afraid that I would lose my resolve again like last time. But, in my haste, I forgot about the front brake. I started going down too fast, and went to hit the brake and tapped the front brake first. The front tire locked up and almost tipped the bike up in the air, but I let go quickly and hit the back brake. Again, I made it to the side before the end of the hill. Again, I walked my bike back up the hill. Again, I felt discouraged. Again, I went home unaccomplished.
However, day after day, I found myself staring down this long hill. This adversary of mine that I could not defeat, and, day after day, I went home without trying to ride the hill to the bottom. A month after my previous attempt, I found myself, unthinkingly, riding to the infamous hill. When I realized my destination, I gritted my teeth and vowed myself I wouldn't back out this time. I threw caution to the wind and went sailing over the edge and down the hill. The exhilaration of it thrilled me! The excitement that came along with this ride, fueled by adrenaline was incredible! It was like no other feeling I had known before. I finally realized what I had been missing out on! Suddenly, though, something on my left caught my attention. It flew past my eyes, so I turned my eyes back to the road down the hill. I saw the bottom of it! I was almost there! I was finally going to make it! Then, the turn at the end of the hill grabbed my attention. Panic overtook me. I had to slow down! I wasn't going to make that turn! I grabbed for the brakes, but I caught the front brake first. The front tire seized up and flipped me over the handle bars. I rolled down the hill, hearing the sickening crunches coming from my body as my bones broke. Finally I came to rest at the bottom of the hill with my bike laying on top of my broken body.
Luckily for me, my dad was driving past on his way home from work. He saw me laying on the ground, broken, and stopped. He ran over towards me from his truck. In my semi-conscious state, I knew that he would be upset with me. I knew he would be made that I tried to pull such a stupid stunt, but I heard nothing from him. Instead, he picked me up in his strong arms and sat me in his truck. He ran back and threw my bike in the bed and sped to the hospital. The doctors there were upset with him that he drove me himself instead of calling an ambulance, but he didn't care. He could hardly stand seeing me in that state for the 10 minute trip. There was no way he could handle just sitting with me until the ambulance got there unable to do anything.
The extent of my injuries were far deeper than physical. The broken leg, collar bone, wrist, fractured ribs, split head, and hundreds of bruises would all heal with rest. The true injuries wouldn't show up until later.
I took my time and healed. I had to get a new bike, too. My other was ruined. It was unable to be fixed and ridden again. I even waited several months after the doctors said it was physically okay for me to ride, to start riding again. After I did, I soon found myself returning to the cursed hill. It was the flame to my moth. I was drawn to it, to its allure and its frustration. My first trip back, was just to see it again. A scouting mission, if you will. It looked even more terrifying than before. I quickly turned around and went home.
The next time out there, I once again found myself on the edge. I took my foot off the pedal to steady myself, but as I did, my shoelace caught on the pedal and I fell over. My bike crashed down on top of my leg. I pushed the bike off of me and got up. My leg was bleeding and my bike was scratched up, but I got back on and rode home with pain shooting through my leg the whole time. At home, I examined my bike. The scratches had made it lose the gleam of a new bike. It was no longer perfect, but I decided a few scratches wasn't worth getting rid of a bike over. I could still ride it.
So, everyday for months I found myself staring down the hill. I had seen other people fly past me and go right down without any problems, but I couldn't seem to do that. I wanted to so bad. I wanted to make it down the hill and turn the corner. I had heard what it was like on the other side of the turn, but I wanted to know what it looked like myself. That, more than anything, kept drawing me back to that wretched hill.
After months of staring down the hill and watching people go past me, I decided I should try again. So, I did. I took off down the hill, determined to make it to the bottom and turn the corner. As I sped down the hill, I spotted a rock in the middle of the road. I swerved to the left to avoid it, but at the speed I was traveling, I couldn't control the bike. I went off the road and into the ditch. My bike hit the far wall of the ditch, bending the tire and pushing the front of the frame back. After it hit the wall, I fell off into the tall grass. I was unhurt, save a couple bruises that would heal quickly, but, once again, my bike was beyond repair. I carried it back up the hill and home.
Soon after, I got another new bike, and, soon after, I found myself staring down the hill. The emotional injuries of my two falls plague my mind. Every time I stand at the top of the hill, the memories of the falls replay in my mind and I back away and go home.
So, here I am, straddling my third bike as I watch my friends go over the edge without hesitation. Some make it to the bottom and some don't. Those that make it to the bottom turn the corner and those that don't make the bottom come back and try again. As I watch friend after friend fly down the long hill, I can't help but think back to the first attempt I made. I backed off, afraid of what could happen, even though that was probably the most ready I was to make the trip down the hill. I don't know if I would have made the corner and been okay, but I can't help but wonder about it. I want so bad to push myself over the edge and go down, but I'm so afraid of wrecking again that I freeze...
God forgives. God redeems. God loves. It doesn't matter if you've messed up before or not, God still loves. It doesn't matter if it's your first "bike" or your tenth. Don't let that be a hindrance. I'm trying not to...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
