Going Home
A handful of years ago I rode my bicycle across the country. Claudia and I flew to Virginia, where I had shipped my bike, and after dipping my rear wheel in the Atlantic (truthfully, it was the Chesapeake Bay), I started turning pedals and headed west … toward home.
Hundreds of riders, young and old, male and female, fit and not-so-fit, make this trek every year. Most travel west to east to take advantage of the prevailing winds. My idea was simply that I wanted to ride home. With the morning sun at my back, I could greet every day with the tailwind of knowing that I was that much closer to finishing.
I nearly quit several times, especially early on in the hills and heat and humidity of Appalachian Kentucky, but Claudia kept reminding me of what I knew to be true, namely that I was getting stronger every day, and all I had to do that day was ride, then find a place to sleep … and maybe shower off some of the stink.
I had unplanned adventures and met a succession of generous people and saw eye-popping sights, survived a couple of crashes, and hooked up with road angels who helped me along my way. Most days I rode alone. This was my ride home and no one could ride it for me. One time on Hwy 20 in northern Nebraska, after not seeing a car for 30 minutes, I remember stopping and just marveling at how vast was the landscape and how small the rider. Then I rode on. Every day new wonders greeted me, like serenading cicadas in Illinois, or alpenglow on the Tetons, or rain so hard against the pavement in Kentucky that it bounced up over my sock line, or the carload of college guys who pulled over in the middle of nowhere Wyoming to give me water and a food bar.
I carried as little as I could since all the weight quickly added up, but I was sure to pack two pictures: one of our family and the other of our house. Why? I was riding home. Every morning and before bed I took those pictures out and smiled. I looked forward to each day because of the unknown adventures ahead, but also because I was headed in the right direction: home.
Ok, I’m certain my story as a spiritual analogy is transparent and the lessons offered through each day's events sometimes weren't grasped until much later. Just like me on my bike, you and I are also on a journey headed home. Every morning we rise to ride, not really knowing what will be in store for us, what we will see, who we will meet, what scrapes from crashes we will bandage. Some of what is served up won't make sense until you are down your road. Life is good, but as good as this life is, there is more and better waiting beyond our death.
Thinking of that, one scene from the gospels I find so comforting and challenging at the same time is with Jesus and his close followers during the conversation in the Upper Room the night of his betrayal. Listen to this familiar passage.
“Let not your heart be troubled, believe in God and also in me. In my Father’s house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you, for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, that where I am you will be also … and you know the way where I am going.” Thomas said to him ‘Lord, we don’t know where you are going, how do we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through me.”
I hope you don't find this out of line, and I'm not trying to rewrite scripture, but if I squint and read between the lines, and propel this to our days, what he is saying to me is something along these lines,
There will be much in life that will cause you to catch your breath, tremble in fear, or dread what is coming around the bend. Your journey will be long and marked by every kind of obstacle. You will crash. You must face the times when you want to quit, and then keep going. But never forget that you are heading home. Every day you live you are closer.
That’s not to wish this life away nor to ignore the beauty and delightful surprises along the way. I’ve made your world to be full of wonder and just waiting to be discovered. And you will find fellow travelers to go with. And you will uncover the truth that you are better with others than alone. There will be times when you feel lost, but tune in to me and I will lead you, because I won't show the way home, but I am the way home.
But the heart of the matter remains that I am in complete control of all of your life. I’m going away to prepare your future, and I will never forget you. In fact, I love you and will come for you in your time because we are destined to spend all of time together. That is my promise to you.
God continues to use my bike trips to remind me of spiritual lessons I want to remember. Your life is just as filled with events set in memory God will use to move you forward in your journey.
Think back. See with fresh eyes past times and what you can learn from them. Your life, like my ride, carries valuable lessons wrapped in real life. Let's learn together and go. And before we know it we will safely arrive at home ... but not before many many more adventures along the road.
Music for the week
Fields of Gold with the Petersen's
And a couple of lame jokes...
Eight-year-old Susie came home from school and informed her mother that today in class they had learned how to make babies.
Furious, the mother called the teacher to vent about how age-inappropriate the lesson was for her daughter.
After listening to the mother complain for a few minutes, the teacher responded, "Did you ask her to explain how it is done?"
"No," said the mother.
"Then ask her and call me back," replied the teacher.
"So how DO you make babies?" the mother asked her daughter.
Susie responded, "You drop the 'y' and add 'ies.'"
__________
Two men were chatting in the living room while their wives were in the kitchen. One of the men was telling the other about this wonderful restaurant he and his wife had visited a few days earlier.
"Wow, sounds great! What's the name of it?"
"Hmm, what was it? Dear me, I'm having a hard time remembering. Oh, what's that flower with the pink blossom and thorns on the stem?"
"You mean a rose?"
"Yeah, that's it." Then looking over his shoulder he shouted, "Hey Rose, what's the name of that restaurant we went to the other night?"