A couple mornings ago, I became aware that all the good stuff is by His strength, for His glory. I was thinking about Aaron Gwin, and the rider he is. Trek certainly wants us to give the bike lots of credit. How ever, just as it is with Ronaldho's shoes, or Jimmy Page's guitar, or Stephen Spielberg's camera, you can't give the credit to it. You can attribute it to how well it was made, but, more so, to the power of the one using it.
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
I cannot strut about, any more than Jimmy Page's guitar can say, "Oh yeah! It's all me! I did it all by myself!"
I want to walk in humility, and give God all the glory.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Getting meta, lighter loads
I looked at the date of my last post: June 8th. "Oooh, I'm a BAD blogger! How can I let down my imaginary legions of fans and followers! Whatever shall I do?" Then, approximately 1.7 seconds later, I thought, "Why am I condemning myself? The past is gone. Move on." After that I realized that my quiet time has historically been much the same. I would do well for a while (longer than I did well on the blog, for all of you keeping score), then totally lapse. I am now doing better with my quiet time, but only because I have someone holding me accountable.
I guess that means I need to recruit some followers. Get some accountability. Hmmm.....
On to mountain biking!
Right now, I am borrowing my dad's bike. That's right. He's 75. He's got an awesome mountain bike. He uses it. And I don't mean for picking up something at the store. No, he uses it for mountain biking. So, that's pretty awesome. Well, the bike is pretty great, too. It's full suspension, and weighs under 23 lb., with pedals. And he let me borrow it. As a kid, we all want keys to the car. Now, I want to ride my dad's bike.
Off I went riding this bike. I climbed a local fire road, and went way faster than I had on my normal steed, which is a 32 lb 5.5" travel All-Mountain beast. Note: I am not an all-mountain beast, but riding that bike is cushy and leaves me as fresh as the morning dew. Not fresh morning doo. That would be gross.
Anyway, the lighter load made it so much easier to climb. Even hike-a-bike became pick-up-the-bike-and-trot.
If you are familiar with the story of Pilgrim's Progress, you know the primary quest-y thing is a man named Christian has a tremendous burden that he is trying to get rid of. Just as riding becomes easier as I shed pounds from the total load (I have a few spares I carry when I walk), my spiritual life gets easier as I shed things. A couple nights ago, I went through my Device and deleted a bunch of unnecessary albeit mildly entertaining apps. I'm trying to reduce time loads, weight loads, distraction loads, so I can enjoy all those things that matter in the long run. The sad but funny thing is, I've caught myself being irritated when I get interrupted by something important when I'm doing something meaningless. I'm sure I'm the only person who has that problem.
I guess that means I need to recruit some followers. Get some accountability. Hmmm.....
On to mountain biking!
Right now, I am borrowing my dad's bike. That's right. He's 75. He's got an awesome mountain bike. He uses it. And I don't mean for picking up something at the store. No, he uses it for mountain biking. So, that's pretty awesome. Well, the bike is pretty great, too. It's full suspension, and weighs under 23 lb., with pedals. And he let me borrow it. As a kid, we all want keys to the car. Now, I want to ride my dad's bike.
Off I went riding this bike. I climbed a local fire road, and went way faster than I had on my normal steed, which is a 32 lb 5.5" travel All-Mountain beast. Note: I am not an all-mountain beast, but riding that bike is cushy and leaves me as fresh as the morning dew. Not fresh morning doo. That would be gross.
Anyway, the lighter load made it so much easier to climb. Even hike-a-bike became pick-up-the-bike-and-trot.
If you are familiar with the story of Pilgrim's Progress, you know the primary quest-y thing is a man named Christian has a tremendous burden that he is trying to get rid of. Just as riding becomes easier as I shed pounds from the total load (I have a few spares I carry when I walk), my spiritual life gets easier as I shed things. A couple nights ago, I went through my Device and deleted a bunch of unnecessary albeit mildly entertaining apps. I'm trying to reduce time loads, weight loads, distraction loads, so I can enjoy all those things that matter in the long run. The sad but funny thing is, I've caught myself being irritated when I get interrupted by something important when I'm doing something meaningless. I'm sure I'm the only person who has that problem.
Friday, June 8, 2012
A Blown Engine
I rode into work this morning, with a purpose. I don't mean getting to work, which was something I planned on doing. I mean, I was trying to break 40 minutes. I've done this before. However, since it happened, I (a) broke my pelvis, and after recovering, I (b) gave a double-unit of blood. I am now getting back up to speed, and, even with a pretty hard week of riding under my metaphoric belt (who wears a belt when they ride?), I figured I had a shot.
I left the house. Big ring immediately. Got up to speed, and started going. Back off a bit, then worked it going up the hill. As I arrived at the summit of the climb, I eased off, because I knew that I needed to save some for later. I can't go all out the whole time; if I try, I'll blow the engine.
Which brings me to my lesson. I need to have times of rest. That rest is optimum if it is a capital "R" Rest. That is, I need to take time away from the world, and glowing rectangles, and the noise, and sit quietly in His presence. Otherwise, I'll blow my engine.
I left the house. Big ring immediately. Got up to speed, and started going. Back off a bit, then worked it going up the hill. As I arrived at the summit of the climb, I eased off, because I knew that I needed to save some for later. I can't go all out the whole time; if I try, I'll blow the engine.
Which brings me to my lesson. I need to have times of rest. That rest is optimum if it is a capital "R" Rest. That is, I need to take time away from the world, and glowing rectangles, and the noise, and sit quietly in His presence. Otherwise, I'll blow my engine.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
The source of my joy
I rode to and from work yesterday on the trails. I felt great, and rode well, and had a wonderful time. And that's okay. However, there is a danger. It's an easy slope to slip down that starts with enjoying the ride. Then, it moves toward the ride brings me joy. This is followed by the ride is the reason for my joy. That's a bad place to be.
I need to be careful. I really do enjoy riding, but the ride can't be the reason. It all has to point back to God, because God makes very clear that he will not share His glory with another. In addition, if I am depending upon the bike, it will let me down. I would then have the problem of being without joy because of a bad ride.
It was the first ride with the new tires. The new tires are really quite grippy. I'm sure there's a lesson from that, too, but all I have so far is "Whoo hoo!"
I need to be careful. I really do enjoy riding, but the ride can't be the reason. It all has to point back to God, because God makes very clear that he will not share His glory with another. In addition, if I am depending upon the bike, it will let me down. I would then have the problem of being without joy because of a bad ride.
It was the first ride with the new tires. The new tires are really quite grippy. I'm sure there's a lesson from that, too, but all I have so far is "Whoo hoo!"
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Holding things together
Sometimes, I don't even need to get on the bicycle to get a good lesson from it.
Last night, I checked the tread on my tires. Wow. I still have knobs, but they aren't knobby anymore. More like bumpy. Chunks of the knobs are no longer there. I don't think they grip anymore; rather, they mildly resist sliding.
Obvious decision: Change the tires. I wasn't sure if I was going to ride to work this morning, but I thought it made sense, and would take 15 minutes, maybe. I flipped the bike upside down, and took off both wheels. I got the tires off, removed the old tires, and put on new ones. Very pretty and clean and with well-defined bumps. I pumped up the tires, and prepared to put the wheels back on the bike. Putting on the rear wheel, I was having a challenge getting it into the dropouts. That wasn't unusual: What was unusual was: the derailleur and derailleur hanger were no longer attached to the bike. Ack! Okay, throw it in reverse, and see what happened.
I was missing one screw, and the other had come unthreaded, but was still on the hanger. I don't know if this had happened as a result of my crash in November (that story gets its own post). But one thing seemed apparent: the back of my bike was held together by a stack of parts. The quick release held the derailleur hanger (mostly) in place. When I removed the wheel, everything came apart.
I received two lessons from this one. First of all, I want to examine what is holding me and my life together. Am I leaning on a stack of worldly things that, if a single item is removed, everything else falls apart? Or, am I really and truly relying on the immovable Rock?
The other, more obvious one, was that I contemplated riding at all. If I rode, there would be no way that I could go to my son's Bible Olympics today across town. I knew my wife wouldn't be able to be there for the whole thing, so he may have won, or not, but wouldn't have a parent to share the moment with. He had practiced a bunch. And here I was, ready to ride my bike to take care of my own wishes instead. I have plenty of opportunities to ride. To make this extra clear, when I had the bike kind of assembled, still missing a screw, one of the tubes had gone flat overnight. I got the point, finally.
I went to the Bible Olympics. Only two kids got all the verses correct. My son was one of them, and I got to hug him. I am thankful for my bike's mechanical failures.
I hope I can save my bike more damage and remember this lesson.
Last night, I checked the tread on my tires. Wow. I still have knobs, but they aren't knobby anymore. More like bumpy. Chunks of the knobs are no longer there. I don't think they grip anymore; rather, they mildly resist sliding.
Obvious decision: Change the tires. I wasn't sure if I was going to ride to work this morning, but I thought it made sense, and would take 15 minutes, maybe. I flipped the bike upside down, and took off both wheels. I got the tires off, removed the old tires, and put on new ones. Very pretty and clean and with well-defined bumps. I pumped up the tires, and prepared to put the wheels back on the bike. Putting on the rear wheel, I was having a challenge getting it into the dropouts. That wasn't unusual: What was unusual was: the derailleur and derailleur hanger were no longer attached to the bike. Ack! Okay, throw it in reverse, and see what happened.
I was missing one screw, and the other had come unthreaded, but was still on the hanger. I don't know if this had happened as a result of my crash in November (that story gets its own post). But one thing seemed apparent: the back of my bike was held together by a stack of parts. The quick release held the derailleur hanger (mostly) in place. When I removed the wheel, everything came apart.
I received two lessons from this one. First of all, I want to examine what is holding me and my life together. Am I leaning on a stack of worldly things that, if a single item is removed, everything else falls apart? Or, am I really and truly relying on the immovable Rock?
The other, more obvious one, was that I contemplated riding at all. If I rode, there would be no way that I could go to my son's Bible Olympics today across town. I knew my wife wouldn't be able to be there for the whole thing, so he may have won, or not, but wouldn't have a parent to share the moment with. He had practiced a bunch. And here I was, ready to ride my bike to take care of my own wishes instead. I have plenty of opportunities to ride. To make this extra clear, when I had the bike kind of assembled, still missing a screw, one of the tubes had gone flat overnight. I got the point, finally.
I went to the Bible Olympics. Only two kids got all the verses correct. My son was one of them, and I got to hug him. I am thankful for my bike's mechanical failures.
I hope I can save my bike more damage and remember this lesson.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
A jump of certain (or not so certain) doom!
I'm realizing I should post some pictures with my posts. For example, I was riding this morning before church in an area where folks have built up some jumps of varying sizes. As previously stated, I'm not that jumpy, yet. I'd like to be comfortable in the air, though. I saw a jump, and thought I should try going over it. Maybe get a little bit of air. Then I saw another jump, parallel to the first one I saw, and considered going over it instead. "Ah," I said, "I dare not. I have no idea what is on the other side."
WHAM! No, I didn't crash. I had one of those moments where God made something extra clear to me. This jump was an object lesson for me. Too often, I dare not, because I have no idea what is on the other side. I exercise more caution than I ought. I'm not saying I should blindly tear down every trail without fear. I am saying that if God wants me to ride down a trail, I should ride down that trail. It's not the trail that matters, it's my listening to and obeying God.
In 2 Timothy 1:7. Paul writes, "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." I often succumb to timidity. In Joshua 1:9, an angel of the Lord says to Joshua, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Of course, I needn't beat myself up about this. If Joshua, the General of the entire Army of Israel, and their leader, needs to be told to be courageous, I might need such encouragement as well.
Oh, in case you wondered, it was completely safe on the back side of the jump, and I never really left the ground anyway. I'd love to share a picture of the front and back side of the jump. Still learning, I suppose.
God, I ask that you would direct my pedal strokes, where you want me to climb I will climb, and where you want me to descend, I will descend.
WHAM! No, I didn't crash. I had one of those moments where God made something extra clear to me. This jump was an object lesson for me. Too often, I dare not, because I have no idea what is on the other side. I exercise more caution than I ought. I'm not saying I should blindly tear down every trail without fear. I am saying that if God wants me to ride down a trail, I should ride down that trail. It's not the trail that matters, it's my listening to and obeying God.
In 2 Timothy 1:7. Paul writes, "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." I often succumb to timidity. In Joshua 1:9, an angel of the Lord says to Joshua, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Of course, I needn't beat myself up about this. If Joshua, the General of the entire Army of Israel, and their leader, needs to be told to be courageous, I might need such encouragement as well.
Oh, in case you wondered, it was completely safe on the back side of the jump, and I never really left the ground anyway. I'd love to share a picture of the front and back side of the jump. Still learning, I suppose.
God, I ask that you would direct my pedal strokes, where you want me to climb I will climb, and where you want me to descend, I will descend.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Everlasting Joy
I'm a mountain biker. I am quite passionate about it. I'm not the fastest, or the most skilled, or even the most willing to risk life and limb.
When I ride, I view it as an opportunity to talk to God and to listen to Him. Don't get me wrong: it isn't that I enter this perfect Christian state of prayer; plenty of times my mind is on other things, such as "Look, a bunny!" or "Branch! Duck! Parry!" or "I'm really tired" or even "Wheeeee!!!"
I had a ride that was much of that last one. I was having such fun. Pure enjoyment. I started wishing it would never end. But I knew it would, either the joy or the ride. That's when it rang clear: I should be seeking my joy from a source that is never ending.
In Romans 14:17, the Bible says, "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." I would say it is also not a matter of riding my bike. In 1 Timothy it says, "For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come." I really am not as godly as I want to be, but I sure see it's value.
So, here I am, laying it out there for those four people who stumble across this blog due to a typo or some other bizarre reason: I am going to be seeking godliness by making sure that my mountain bike is a tool, not a source. I will have fun on my rides, but those rides will not be the source of my Joy.
The real question: Will I keep blogging for more than one month? The last time I blogged for more than a month was six years ago, and that one had an obvious ending. I tried to revive it, but it kept waning. So, we'll see what happens. I think I'll keep at it this time, God willing.
When I ride, I view it as an opportunity to talk to God and to listen to Him. Don't get me wrong: it isn't that I enter this perfect Christian state of prayer; plenty of times my mind is on other things, such as "Look, a bunny!" or "Branch! Duck! Parry!" or "I'm really tired" or even "Wheeeee!!!"
I had a ride that was much of that last one. I was having such fun. Pure enjoyment. I started wishing it would never end. But I knew it would, either the joy or the ride. That's when it rang clear: I should be seeking my joy from a source that is never ending.
In Romans 14:17, the Bible says, "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." I would say it is also not a matter of riding my bike. In 1 Timothy it says, "For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come." I really am not as godly as I want to be, but I sure see it's value.
So, here I am, laying it out there for those four people who stumble across this blog due to a typo or some other bizarre reason: I am going to be seeking godliness by making sure that my mountain bike is a tool, not a source. I will have fun on my rides, but those rides will not be the source of my Joy.
The real question: Will I keep blogging for more than one month? The last time I blogged for more than a month was six years ago, and that one had an obvious ending. I tried to revive it, but it kept waning. So, we'll see what happens. I think I'll keep at it this time, God willing.
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