( Note: This is a piece I wrote more than ten years ago in 2007. After another long sabbatical from riding, today I returned.  It seems fitting to resurrect it.)

Conversations with the Voice of Vigilance

I have lived with relentless pain for some time. Last week the cause was revealed and corrected, and for the first time in over a year, I am pain free. This morning I donned my gear and once again became one with my bike. It has been a very long time. As I rolled down my driveway and out into the street, I anticipated only the revelry of the ride. What follows are the lessons learned from the whispers of my Savior.

Embracing the Joy of Returning to the Path

As I round the corner and pass a group of middle-school students waiting for their bus, I am happy and confident, keenly aware that my body is feeling comfortable and confident. I know it’s been some time since I’ve ridden in earnest, and I acknowledge to myself that I am not out to kill myself, just enjoy the ride. The morning is warm and breezy, and I am on a solitary quest of freedom. “Thanks, Lord, for this gift.”

The Interruptions

I proceed down the sidewalks of my town and am cutting though the local nursing home parking lot. I have done this a hundred times and am riding on autopilot. As I turn through, I hear my cell phone ringing in my saddlebag. With the ever-present reminder that I am always a phone call away, I pull over and reach for the pack. The continued ringing is slightly annoying, but I pull it out and answer. It is a friend (not a crisis with one of my boys, which is the primary reason the phone exists), so I take a moment to chat. She shares some frustration and seeks some assistance and lauds me for being on my bike. Ten minutes later I am pulling away, this time with the Voice.

“See, Pam, it wasn’t so bad to rest a minute. There are reasons I bring interruptions into your life, and you must be willing to listen. Your freedom becomes your idol if I can’t interrupt you. Listen to My voice. Don’t get so self-absorbed with the ride that you can’t be interrupted. Leave yourself available and open. Besides, it’s OK to rest a little. You are now rested for the next leg of your path.”

As real as the breeze in my face, the Lord visits my ride.

“You’re right, Lord. I do feel better, and she needed to talk. Thank You for pointing that out.”

And off I ride.

The Hills

As I clear the parking lot and turn onto the sidewalk, I acknowledge the upcoming bridge spanning the lake. Normally this is my little private challenge; I set my face and take the incline as fast as I can. It’s just a little thing between me and the bridge. Today, I show a little more respect. I’m refreshed but dreading the hill after such a long absence of stamina. Before I can rally another thought, the Voice whispers,

“Listen to my Voice. Be vigilant. Don’t take your eyes off the trail, and be aware of the danger around you. You can push yourself, Pam; I’m here to give you strength. Lean into Me.”

I’m off and I’m strong. Up the bridge with my Lord speaking to my heart. As the crest comes nearer, I hear,

“When you get to the top, don’t just blow through with that internal confidence of how well you’ve done. Take time at the top to look around and rejoice in the height I have enabled you to achieve, and turn to view the depth from which I brought you. Spend a restful moment up there. And listen for Me to tell you when to leave.”

The view from the bridge has never been more satisfying.

The Descents 

I’m eager to get going, yet I am completely drawn into the fact that God is on my bike ride with me. So, I wait for Him to tell me it’s OK to head down the other side of the bridge.

“Go ahead now, Pam. Enjoy the ride. Coast. Revel in the wind and in the ease and exhilaration of the descent. Listen to My Voice.”

The Dangers

As I leave the bridge behind me, the next leg of my ride quickly requires caution. I am choosing to ride the sidewalk along a busy boulevard, and the street is inches to my left. To my right are unending establishments, all presenting their crowded parking lots. No sightseeing here.

“Pam, this part of your path leads you close to danger. The path is full of obstacles. Be vigilant. Listen intently to My voice. Keep your eyes on the path in front of you and the dangers around you. This is vigil. This is concentration. Listen. And do you notice that the strength is returning to your legs? I am with you.”

As I make my way along the sidewalk (again, a route I have traveled many times), I approach the local mall. Though the hazards are not gone, they are different. Instead of riding on a three-foot ribbon, I will be in wide open parking lots.

“The path here is dangerous in a different way. The danger is not so close, but can come from out of nowhere. Relax a little, but be vigilant and listen.”

“You have definitely got my attention, Lord.”

Clearing the mall, the Lord whispers,

“The path is safer now. It is away from the traffic, but there are people sharing your route. Be mindful of their intersection. Enjoy the ride. Be kind and share your joy. You can decide if you want to push yourself or coast, Pam. You are on the path, you are listening to me, and I give you liberty to choose. You are almost done.” 

Home

As I round the corner of my street and coast toward my home, the Lord whispers,

“You have completed your first real return to the path. Rejoice in the renewing of your spirit. Rejoice in the renewing of your body. Rejoice in life. Did you know I would join you?”

“This is the air I breathe……”

 Conclusion

Every bit of the narrative above occurred this morning before I prepared for work. I can’t remember a time when the Lord visited me in such an intentional manner. As I was riding and listening, it became very clear that His conversation with me had very little to do with my bike ride. God was sharing His love and guidance for my life. Our lives are a pilgrimage along the path of salvation with all the experiences that attend our lives. This journey can take a very long time, and will be accompanied by all manner of joys, dangers, challenges and fears. Sometimes we get lost and lose our way. Sometimes we get hurt and must crawl or stop. Sometimes we get mad and leave the way for a time. But we have a most loving Savior Who will not leave us to ourselves and Who, when we are ready or able, will Himself accompany us along the road to restoration and renewal. We may find ourselves longing for the path or dreading the return, but our Faithful Companion will set us back and stay by our side as we step back on. Be listening.