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 heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like the President. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I didn’t really know him.
But later on, when I recognized God, it seemed as though life was rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed God was in the back helping me pedal. I don’t know 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 took 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 was worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He just smiled, and didn’t answer, and I started to learn to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I said, “I’m scared.” God leaned back, and would touch my hand.
He took me to people with gifts I needed; gifts of healing and acceptance and joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey, our journey, God’s and mine.
And then we would be off again. Then He’d say, “Give those gifts away–they’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we’d meet. It was then I found that in giving we receive. Our burden was light.
I didn’t trust Him at first, you know–being in total control of my life. I thought, “What if He wrecks it?” But God knows, “bike secrets.” He knows how to make it bend to take the sharp corners; how to jump to clear high rocks; and how to fly to shorten scary passages.
I am starting to learn to shut up and pedal in some of the strangest places. I am beginning to enjoy the cool breeze on my face, with my delightful Companion pedaling with me.
And when I am sure I just can’t do any more, He just smiles and says, “Pedal”