Thursday, September 28, 2006
my therapist is a mountain bike
There is something about exhausting the body that is good for the frustrated soul. When life gets a little too big to handle on the inside, I just need to get dirty and worn out. Mud, sweat, dust, blood...whatever reeks of adventure and challenge.
Ergo, my bike ride today (the pic is actually from a different ride). I did not go out there for a little mundane exercise, a lap around the park. I wanted to be sucking wind like a hoover on some impossible incline, dodging branches and sliding in the dirt. This is a frustration ride, folks. It has nothing to do with fitness and everything to do with exertion.
I immediately chose a trail I had never tried before (those I have sampled have not been worthy of a frustration ride), and it turned out to be a gem. Up and up and up and up...the sucking wind part was taken care of pretty quickly. As it turned out, the trail also provided a wonderful opportunity to employ the This-Is-Nuts-O-Meter. With the sucking of the wind came the "What am I Doing?" reading, followed by a "This Might Not be a Good Idea" when the ruts got really big. When the rocks began, the meter eased into "Nope, Definitely not a Good Idea." Finally, when the rocks got bigger, were situated on a steep slope, and the trail was a bit loose, things topped out at a reading of, "Maybe I Should Have Written a Will Before Leaving the House." That was where frustration encountered reason, and I finally turned back.
On the way back down that glorious trail, I stopped and sat on one of the huge rock formations surrounding me. Perched high on a sandstone ridge, looking out at a snow-capped Pike's Peak, I read my Bible in the fall sun. The exhaustion had done the trick. For the first time in a while, I was tired enough to rest, worn out enough to just sit and listen. And that's what the Father wants from me: "In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength."
Right now, I need to sit before him in restful repentance, and in quiet trust. I need to make that the posture of my heart and life. Sometimes it just a takes a mountain bike and little wind-sucking to get me there.