Finding the Pedals

My grandparents gave me my first bicycle – blue and white, with a working headlight.  I remember riding it back and forth down their long dirt drive. The scattering of gravel made it a little tricky, so tricky that a few times I crashed.  I don’t know for sure, but I’m sure someone was watching from the front porch, and I wonder what those episodes looked like.  With hurt pride and skinned knees, I’d push it back to the house, vowing my bike-riding days were over.  In my lifetime, mostly in frustration at myself, I’ve launched quite a few softball bats, slung a number of tennis rackets, slammed a plethora of doors, and even hurled a biscuit at Mr. Bill.  The image of that bike disgustingly dropped to the ground – kickstand ignored – came to my mind several times yesterday as we said a final farewell to Mom.

 

God gave David these profound words: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the Strength of my heart and my Portion forever” (Psalm 73:26).  If you have ever looked death in the face, you are instantly aware God never intended it to be like this.  How is it then the soul can sing when comes the naked realization flesh and heart do indeed fail, not just physically but spiritually.  Survival is always a chief motivator, but there’s an end at which we will grasp for help, reach toward strength to continue, for something beyond ourselves.  In his lifetime, David knew what it was to struggle to persevere, rise above pain of both flesh and the spirit.  God makes it clear, I am your Strength. I am your Portion. Not just for now but forever.  Without restraint of body or spirit, Mom is now doing what we all are created to do: glorify God and enjoy Him forever.  She is engaged perfectly and gloriously in what she could only do in part while with us.  She understands the entirety of the fullness of God as Strength and Portion these days. David’s next words are good for each of us: “But for me it is good to be near God.” (V.28).  Near to God – doesn’t that sound like the most perfect place to be!

 

So, the question of this century – what next?  That bike laid there for [what seemed] an eternity.  Eventually, I picked the bike up from the ground, took a seat, found the pedals, took a deep breath and the wheels began to turn.  Slowly at first, with determination and discipline, I found my balance and with the wind in my face, I rode again.  Mom, we haven’t forgotten how to live, we just are bit slow steadying the bike and more than a little apprehensive finding the pedals.  You see, Mom is part of who we are, what we do, and where we are going.  For sure, we’ll lose our balance, miss a turn of the pedals, even swerve and crash but Dad and us-Sustas will ride again, and we will feel the wind in our faces and continue the Legacy gifted to us.  We bow our heads to you, Mom, with deep respect as we … find those pedals.