A journey down the driveway

Do you remember the bikes with the big banana seats, the floresent orange flag that flew 6 feet above our heads, and the pretty basket on front? Well, that’s the exact bike I learned to ride on. Oh how I loved that bike! So much freedom harnessed between two wheels!

Our home had a long asphalt driveway where my dad and older brother taught me to ride. I remember them cheering for me the day I went solo! I was wobbly, not very confident, but I was doing it all on my own! A few years ago I drove past that house, and the driveway seemed shorter than I remember, but back then it seemed to go on forever, and to get to the end without falling seemed impossible!

I won’t forget the day I was allowed to go ride by myself. I was coming down that driveway getting ready to turn onto the sidewalk when I misjudged the turn and biffed! There I lay half under that bike with the tire spinning, it was a pathetic site! Skinned elbows, asphalt-embedded knees, and a dirty tear-soaked face went running into the house for Mom.

As I sat on the counter in the kitchen, and she bandaged me up, she told me to slow down, watch where I was going, and take the turns a little slower. She never said, get back up on the bike, it’s implied by her encouragement; before you knew it I was jumping ramps and curbs with my brothers!

So many of my own personal journeys in life seem like a Groundhog Day movie to learning to ride that bike! The driveway in my journey seems so stinking long, and the goal sometimes feels impossible to reach. Too many moments to recall I have crashed, just like on my bike, and I stayed down never making it to the end of the driveway. I would lay under the bike looking all pathetic, refusing to get up. Every voice in my head was asking why try again… everybody knew if I got up, I’d still be wobbly, and not very good at what I was doing – why try? The same stupid turns were there, I’d just crash again.

However, even in my most pitiful state, discouraged and hopeless, my heavenly Father would meet me right where I was at. He’d removed my messed-up bike, touch and heal my wounds, and whisper encouraging words as He placed me back up on that banana seat and said, “Let’s try this again, you can make it to the end of the driveway.” Now looking back at those driveways, they really don’t seem so long. The wounds from the crashes are healed, and the victory of reaching my goal has built confidence and given me authority.

My mom would have never said to me, “Just stay off of that thing, you’re bound to fall again.” and neither will God! I ran to my mom that day because she was safe, and she could do what I couldn’t do. She could make me feel better about the situation and myself. So often we hide our messes from God, thinking He is just going to throw in our faces all that we’ve done wrong, and condemn us for falling short of the mark. However, in all reality, He’ll do just what my mom did; He encourages us right in the areas where we need it the most, and His words make getting back up on that bike a little easier!

The Godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again. Proverbs 24:16