A couple years ago, my husband bought a motorcycle. It’s big and loud and he loves it. (And no, it’s not a midlife crisis; he’s always had his license.) Although I’ve never been a fan of noise on wheels or leather jackets, I am a fan of him, and I must admit that riding down the woodsy roads of Chester County on a motorcycle puts you really close to nature, and I do love that.
You can do one of two things when you’re flying down the road with the wind in your hair on the back of a bike. You can peer over the shoulder of the driver, pondering whether the truck heading towards you will pulverize you with one wrong turn; whether the pothole ahead will catapult you off your seat into the branches above where you’ll hang by your hair like Absalom; and whether your helmet will actually protect you if you topple off the back in a whirl of arms and legs.
OR…
You can acknowledge that you have zero control over the situation and turn your attention to what’s around you. One Saturday, zooming through the beauty of Route 52, I was enthralled with the old stone homes, rays of sunlight filtering through dappled leaves, and a red cardinal flitting along the green brush. Does God delight in me the way I’m delighting in that cardinal? I wondered as we rode past. I sensed God speaking to me as I sat there, helplessly but happily.
Forgive the obvious analogy, but on the back of the bike of life, I control very little. Will I spend the miles God gives me peering over his shoulder, scanning for danger, and shrieking “Be careful!” at him every time we round a bend? Will I grit my teeth and brace for impact with every bump, envisioning each worst-case scenario in cinematic detail? Will I worry away my years and dread each turn?
Or will I slowly, purposefully, turn my head and take in the beauty? Will I notice where God is at work in the passing hours and days, relishing the bright spots of color? Will I delight in the gifts he has given, admire his artwork, and laugh at the bumps? What joy and delight am I forfeiting because of a vain belief that I can and must control my life? How much beauty have I already missed?
God is the one who ultimately “drives” our lives. Although we have a part to play, we are to play it not with clenched teeth and white knuckles but with the “peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7), smiling and holding fast to him in love (Psalm 91:14).
Trusting God is easier said than done, but it’s the holy privilege of God’s children. He has beautiful things to show us along the way if we will just turn and look. On the bumpy roads, may we trust in the Lord with all our hearts (Proverbs 3:5), delight ourselves in him (Psalm 37:4), rejoice in hope (Romans 12:12), laugh at the days to come (Proverbs 31:25), and rejoice in him with inexpressible joy (1 Peter 1:8).
It will not all be smooth riding, but our God presides, mysteriously and lovingly, even over the trouble that he allows. So loosen your grip, the Lord reminded me on the back of that bike. Trust the driver, relax, and enjoy the view.
