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Confessions of a Reluctant Disciple

Sharing realistic, usually unconventional, observations from the arsenal of a slightly qualified prayer warrior

Riding a Bike

Today I rode a bicycle for the first time in…let’s just say a LOT of years.  That statement “as easy as riding a bike” is a little bit of hooey.  We rode 18.1 miles. Eighteen. Point. One. That’s over 18 miles! My shoulders ache, my legs are sore, my nether regions hate me…yet I feel invigorated.

One of the reasons I love so much when we ride on the motorcycle is how freeing it feels. Being out in nature, getting to see and experience the world around me without any distractions, is a precious thing. I don’t have to worry about driving; I can enjoy being a passenger.

It was almost like that on the bike, but I was not hands free like I am on the motorcycle. Which is why there are no pictures of today’s activity. My death grip on the bike handles prevented me from partaking in, and later sharing, digital documentation of our excursion.

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Yup. Crashed the bike.

The one pic I did get was of my knee. After the crash. Yes, I crashed. Fortunately, it was toward the end of the ride. But before I crashed, I learned there is a whole city of paved paths out there! Why didn’t anybody tell me about these? They’re awesome, and they stretch from one end of the city to the other. They’re like a labyrinth of activity potential.

When we rode beneath roads and overpasses, I felt like an ant in Honey I Shrunk the Becky. It was as if we were beneath the world, still in it, but watching it from afar, zipping quietly along our private paved path with the cardinals, butterflies, inch worms, roly polies, a coral or “other fellow” snake, and lots of friendly dogs.

It was pretty cool.

What I learned from today is the following:

*Claritin is allergy nectar from the gods. If you live in Texas and haven’t been hit by the evil allergy demons, you will be. Taking something before you venture out is a necessary weapon to use to your advantage.
*Bike butt is a real thing; it comes after sitting on a bicycle for two hours and afterwards it hurts to sit on things. Any things. Pretty much all things. It’s like being saddle sore after riding a horse. Own it. You got out there and activated your body. Good for you!
*Watch the path — like when you play chess and have to think five moves ahead, look ahead on the path to see what’s coming up and around the curves so you don’t crash into a surprise object or person.  (There was no curve in my crash.  Don’t judge me.)
*Take your eyes off the path. What? You just said…I know. What I mean is enjoy the scenery. You’re in God’s country. See what’s around you, experience it, enjoy it, be one with it. Zen out y’all.
*Do not get off the bike before you’re done with your ride. Your nether regions will scream at you. True story.
*Don’t crash your bike on a 2-year-old. You will feel badly all the way home. Yep, my crash was over a 2-year-old adorable little boy sitting innocently in his little car ready to chug along with his brother and dad until my bike handle came down on his leg. He was fine; he just stared at me while I picked my mortified self off the ground and rearranged the bicycle. I was the one who was traumatized.
*Plan to do it again. Keep moving. Keep doing. Keep getting out and enjoying the world while you can. Don’t let anything stop you from getting back out there, even a crash.  And don’t procrastinate. The way things are going, you’ll need to squeeze in as many bike rides as you can before the chemical attack by terrorist zombies starts the apocalypse. True story?

Dear Kids, When I fail…

This is one that falls under the “I didn’t write this but I wish I had” category. Poignant, gets you in the heart, and uses the words we think every day from the day they are born but don’t always say, or know how to say.

WONDEROAK

Dear kids,

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I see that you’ve grown over night. Your face is more defined, your eyes look older. A part of me is excited and in awe; I know you have so much ahead of you. Another part is scared because time is racing and I can’t slow it down. I’m afraid that I haven’t always been awake and noticing, and that somehow I have slept through the magic of your growing. I wonder, have I enjoyed you enough? Have I given you what you needed? Is your heart still whole? Is your spirit unbroken?

I’m not always good at this. I’m not always as good as I want to be at being your mom. I want to be great; and sometimes I am, but sometimes I’m not.

Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I do it right, and sometimes I completely miss it.

Everyday…

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We Just Don’t Know

When you play chess, you learn to think five moves ahead.  If the other player does this, I can do this.  If he does that, I could do that or that.  I realized the other day that I drive like I play chess.  I analyze if this driver does this, I can do that.  If the other one does that, I can do this.

I feel prepared to preemptively strike once a space opens up.  Because, let’s face it, everybody driving in front of me is driving too slowly for my satisfaction.  And when they don’t do this or that, I end up like THIS:

But seriously, we can think we’re prepared and do what we can to be prepared, but we are not always.  When a tragedy occurs, it’s usually not expected and no matter how prepared we might think we are, it will still take us by surprise.

Tragic events are an unfortunate and unwelcome part of life, but they do happen and they remind us that life is unpredictable and finite.  They remind us to cherish moments and loved ones.  We wish they didn’t happen but it snaps us back to reality when they do, and they remind us of what is important.

My reminder happened this past weekend.

One of my dearest friends (and one of the safest drivers I know) and her college-aged son were involved in a car crash Friday night.  I didn’t learn of it until Saturday, but when I did, I was floored.  When I found out more details on Sunday about the crash, I was even more floored.

A teen, speeding way above the speed limit in my friend’s own neighborhood, came around a corner, lost control, slid across the road, and plowed head-on into my friend’s truck, sending them toppling twice over.

Her truck is totaled.  His blew up.  She was just released from the hospital with a foot broken in three places, a clavicle broken in two places, and assorted bumps, bruises, jammed digits, scratches, and other injuries.  Her son has assorted bumps, bruises and scratches and is thankfully mobile.

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What’s left of her truck.

But they are alive.

Thank God (literally) they were in her truck because if they had been in her Jetta, well…I might not have been able to visit them in a hospital.

Would that we remember what is important every day without some awful event being the impetus, however, this happened and it made me think about so many things—how relieved I was that they were okay; how we just do not know when something might happen that will change our lives completely; how much I love and care for my family and dear friends, and how blessed I am to have them in my life; and how sad I would be if I missed an opportunity to let them know how I feel.

You know what’s coming next—the directive or friendly suggestion to hug your loved ones, and tell them how much they mean to you.  Send a note, text, message, smoke signal, or make a phone call, and remember what and who are important, not only because a tragedy occurred, but continually.  Because you just don’t know.

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Becky is a single mom and a reluctant disciple, called to share her story with others.  She knows God equips her for her journey, and she does her best to trust in His plan for that journey and not to judge others on theirs…unless they say she eats too much chocolate; then she can’t be friends with them anymore.  But she will pray for them.  Follow the Reluctant Disciple for more quirky insights into these groovy trails we call life.

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