The first thought I had this morning when I woke up was of my dad and all the Father's Day celebrations I shared with him through the years. Memories flooded my mind as I went about taking care of Julie and Ollie, and cooking my breakfast. I thought about Daddy sitting on the back porch with a ball cap perched on his white hair ... I thought about him tossing a softball with me in the backyard ... I thought about the twinkle in his eyes ... I thought about how much he loved it when harvest time came for his garden ... I thought about the way the little kids at church would clamor around him every time they saw him ... I thought about the day he taught me to ride my bike without training wheels ... I thought about the day he taught my son Matt to ride his bike without training wheels ... I thought about the man that he was and about all the people whose lives were blessed by knowing him.
It didn't take me long after I started riding my bike again a month or so ago to realize that there is a sort of "biking culture" of folks who ride. Some people ride simply for pleasure ... they pedal along slowly, often not wearing helmets, leisurely taking their time, just enjoying the ride. Some people are competitive bikers ... they pedal as fast as they can, clothed from head to toe in the latest and greatest bike wear, always in a hurry, hunching over to make themselves more aerodynamic, training for their next race. And then there are people who bike for exercise ... they pedal at a medium pace, wear helmets, may or may not wear padded biking shorts, occasionally chatting with those they pass on the trail, focusing on their ride but also enjoying just being out on the trail. I definitely fall into the third group, and yes, I wear padded biking shorts so that my behind doesn't hurt. But ... I don't wear those fancy, colorful bike shirts that cost a ton of money ... I bought four $5 nylon shirts at Walmart (the kind that wick the sweat away from my body).
Last week as I was riding, it struck me that though I don't ride really fast when I bike, I generally bike for a long distance. And that caused me to start thinking about which is more important in biking, speed or endurance. I'm sure that an argument could be presented for either with legitimate reasons to support the importance of each one. The more I thought about speed vs. endurance in biking, the more I began to think about speed vs. endurance in life. I thought about how often I try to race through the difficult times of life, going as fast as I can hoping that I'll get to the end of them as quickly as possible. But here's the thing ... when I try to speed through the tough stuff, I think I miss out on all the things God may be trying to teach me on the trail of tribulations. I think He may have a whole different view of speed vs. endurance when it comes to following Him ... a whole different view indeed.
As I rolled all of those thoughts around in my mind again today, I thought of Daddy ... I thought of the many years that he was sick. I thought of how hard he worked throughout his life. I thought of how faithful he was to his Lord ... every ... single ... day ... in ... every ... single ... circumstance. My dad was an incredible example of endurance, of going the distance, of allowing God to be the master of his time and his speed. I may never determine which is best in bike riding, speed or endurance, but my dad taught me which is most important in life ... fighting the good fight, finishing the course, keeping the faith, enduring until the end.
Happy Father's Day in heaven, Daddy ... I know your reward was huge and your crown filled with many jewels.
"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing." 2 Timothy 4:7-8
No comments:
Post a Comment