I’m a cyclist. I’m comfortable and sure on my bike; I’ve been on it a while. I love to ride. I’m competing in the race of a lifetime. It hasn’t been easy; still I am pleased with my performance.
The rolling hills were hard at first, but I’ve gotten strong. I power up them and smile as I zoom down. The sun is shining; best of all, the challenging course is beautiful. I ride on and the terrain changes. The rollers become steep oxygen depriving mountains. I power up them “Alp d’Daughter” and “Col de Son.” Over and over I climb the mountains my children toss at me. Business challenges produce a headwind. I’m struggling. The headwind shifts and becomes a crosswind. I’m having trouble controlling the bike. I look down to steady my bike. I look up and react too late to a hairpin turn that I didn’t see; marital problems. I’m losing balance and I can’t clip out of my bike. I’m falling down the ravine.
I’m painfully hurt. I’ve crashed off the cliff into a ravine. I look around, grab some junk food, and drink too much wine. I’m wounded looking for relief as I eat and drink more. The result? I gain weight while my throbbing pain continues. I’m in a pit. I see the sleeping pills and the alcohol. I don’t want to race any more. I quit.
I look up and see my team captain. “I want to go home” I tell him.
“No” he answers.
“I quit” I say as I consider the pills and drink.
Tears stream down my face, “Take me home.” I plead.
“No” he gently says. “You can’t go home now. I chose this course for you. I’ll help you. Get on your bike and ride with me.”
“I can’t” I cry.
“Ride with me” he says as he reaches his hand out to me.
He pulls me out of the ravine. I get on my bike only to look up and see a HUGE “hors (beyond) categorie” mountain in front of me. I see storm clouds gathering as the wind kicks up.
“I can’t do this.” I whisper. I’m afraid.
“You can’t do it alone” he says. “Grab my wheel, draft behind me.”
I clip my shoes into my pedals, I tuck my head down. I accelerate and slide my wheel behind God’s wheel. I’m drafting behind God. I follow him.
Drafting: A riding technique where one cyclist rides behind another using the front cyclist as a windbreak. This reduces resistance and the person in the back doesn’t have to work as hard. To be effective in drafting the cyclist needs to be as close as possible to the bicycle in front of him.
I draft behind God.
“…be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for
the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
---Joshua 1:9 (NKJV)
Copyright © March, 2008 – Donna Dowell. All rights reserved.
