He Never Walked Away

Picture a little girl with pigtails and ribbons, skipping along a wooded path with the One who hung the moon...

The sun was shining brightly, filtering through the trees which produced just enough shade for the perfect stroll.  Everything seemed right, but I went prancing ahead without watching my step.  A tree root rising from the forest floor surprised me and I fell quite hard.  I tried to get up, but I was hurt.  I asked Abba, my Father, to help me, but I couldn't get past the pain.  He took my hand, but I wouldn't move.  I was stuck.  He began to pull me up, but I focused on the pain and began to kick and scream.  The clouds had rolled in and I was getting cold.  My Father picked me up.  He began to carry me, but I hindered our progress with my protest.  "It hurts, it hurts," I cried, flailing my arms and arching my back.   He walked along with me in this manner, moving along ever so slowly, until I became so tired that I fell limp in his arms and my cries became a whimper.  He let me rest my head on his shoulder as He walked along carrying me with ease.  Gradually the pain from my injury decreased.  I was hesitant to stand on my own two feet again, but my Father knew that it was time.  He gently set me down holding tightly to my hand as we took the first few steps.  It still hurt a little as I began to bear my weight again, but we walked along slowly.  The further we went the less I felt the pain, though every once in a while I would step unevenly and it would flair back up for a time.  My Father continues to hold my hand, and I hold onto His.  I am content.  I am glad, though I still feel the injury from time to time.  It has taught me.  I like to skip and dance, but I must stay close by my Father.  I mustn't go ahead of Him without His hand to steady me lest I fall.  I will remember this as the air becomes infused with the scent of honeysuckle and wild rose; and as the sun shines brightly through the trees producing just enough shade for a perfect stroll. 

So You Want To Be A Biker Chick?

Last Thursday I stopped at church to talk with my pastor for a few minutes.  I was on my motorcycle, and there was the usual banter about being a biker chick going on with the staff members.   It was a beautiful day, and after I left Park Forest I rode over to my friend *Trudy's house.  She was outside when I got there so I jumped off the bike and we went in the house to catch up.  When I came back out the bike wouldn't even turn over.  I fiddled with the switch and the clutch and the kickstand, but nothing changed.  I put it in neutral and found it odd that the indicator light didn't come on, then it occurred to me that I had forgotten the key.  The headlight had been on the whole time we were talking, which was pretty long, and the battery was just plain dead.  Trudy doesn't drive, and her husband had the car at work.  She didn't have any equipment to help me, and I wouldn't have known what to do with it if she had.

I called the church first since my husband, Eric, was on a field trip with one of our kids, but there was no answer.  I thought about trying to use Trudy's steep driveway to start my bike, but I really didn't know how, and she strongly advised against it.  I decided to see what my friends Mike and Kandi were up to since they are sometimes home during the day and could probably help me.  Mike was leaving for an appointment, but he gave Kandi some instructions and she headed over with the jumper cables.  When we finally decided where the battery was and how to get to it, the screws on the cover were so tight we couldn't get them off.  After a while Kandi decided to call our friend Dave since he lives nearby and is also sometimes home during the day.  She told him she had "a friend" that needed some help and explained what was going on, but she kept my identity a secret.  

When Dave came up the driveway on his BMW he looked pretty amused.  He was a great help and got the screws out.  He got the bike running and then he realized the the driveway would have been great for pop starting it.  Well, he had the opportunity, because we turned the bike off to put it back together and it wouldn't start again.  After he got it running he said he would follow me for a while; I do go right past his house to get home.  About half way to Dave's house I started to worry that I had left my phone on Trudy's counter, and this was no time to be without it.  I pulled off to check my pocket.  I had my phone, but I let the clutch out stalling the bike which still had a dead battery.  Dave had to take his bike home and get his jumper cables and car; meanwhile I took the battery compartment apart again.  This time we had to put everything back together with the bike running, and put the one piece that required the key in my back pack.  I made quite certain that I did not stall my bike again.  

What a Day!!!  As embarrassed as I was though, I think it was really good for Trudy to see the body of Christ in action.  She seemed very impressed with the way people came to my rescue.  She is a believer, but does not associate much with the church.  She is often alone, and doesn't feel like she has a network of people to help her the way she witnessed that day.  It certainly lessens the sting of how careless I was that day, and what a mess I got myself into, knowing that it may have been an eye opening experience for her.  "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."  John 13:35  Since then our friend Fred offered to loan us a trickle charger, and Nate actually gave us one to get my battery back in working condition and keep it that way over the winter.

I learned a few things:  1. The importance of turning off the key every time I shut off the bike.  2. The reality that I have some truly great friends, which I did already know. 3.  The specifics of  jump starting a Suzuki Savage.  4.  The mechanics of a push/pop start, which I intend to practice until I can successfully pull it off. 

Well, it's not something I ever want to repeat, but I don't think the experience will go to waste.  :)

I am so thankful for my friends!!!

*Trudy is a fictional name for a real person.