Learning to Ride

When I was a small girl (younger than that picture), my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on.

He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again" 

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There are two reasons I share this memory with my readers today. One, it's Father's Day, and while my Father no longer walks in this world, I still have loving memories to share. The reason I share this memory, though, is that many of us may have similar stories when they first learned to ride a bike. And in this small parent-to-child way, parallels our relationship with God.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. Then we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

~ ESA

First Bike Ride (True Story)

When I was a small girl, my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on. He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again"

+ + +

The reason I share this memory with my readers this morning is that I came to realize something. To me, God is like my dad in this small way.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. And there are times when we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us to grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

- ESA

Understanding the Difference

I want to share something I've learned with my readers, an understanding I came to realize. There are times, when I fail to reach a goal, falter in my steps or otherwise not perform as I should. Once I realize my error, one of two things can happen:

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I am repulsed by the act or failure to act on my part. I sincerely regret what I have done, see where I have gone wrong, and try to learn HOW to do it correctly. Then I am motivated to be stronger and do it right the next time. This way, I am enabled to learn from the mistake and grow.

Then there is a much darker path my head and heart can go....

I look at my failures and truly hate myself, my life, my being, my spirit, and my soul. I am filled with self-loathing, self-revulsion, and self-hatred; I am repulsed by what I see and can actually embrace the ideas that I am not worthy of another chance and that even God could not love me. I stick my head in the proverbial sand and hide - from myself, from what I have done, from God.

This is what will poison us from within. This kind of self-revulsion - not for the wrong we have done but to hate our very selves to the point where we cut God from our lives. We do not give ourselves the chance to seek forgiveness. We do not yearn for the opportunity to try again, to do better. We are just stuck in a rut, hating ourselves.

This hate can lead to other forms of self-infliction ~ cutting, self-mutilation, alcohol and drug abuse, as they are seen as an escape from this pain. Even worse, when we cannot love ourselves, we choke off our ability to love one another; those around us suffer too.

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My understanding came when I had the rare opportunity to feel both of these side-by-side. First I felt the darker emotions, and started to hide from God. Then I somehow realized what I was doing and felt penitent for letting myself get caught by such dark emotions and turning away from God, and I deeply desired to correct that.

Side-by-side, it become so clear. One helps you to be sincerely sorry, learn from it, and lifts you up to try again. The other tries to mire you down with self-loathing and helps you to hide from God's Loving heart.

Now I know the difference and strive to not only learn, but pass on what I know.

- ESA