Grandma got run over by a reindeer, coming home from church on Christmas Eve… no, no, wait. That’s not right. For some reason that song has been stuck in my head for days.
Actually, Grandma got beat up by a bike! Boom, it was that quick. As my bleeding flesh lay face-down on that filthy sidewalk, for all I knew that crazy Christmas caribou could have been the culprit. Reindeer, rabid raccoon, Rottweiler – from my defeated perspective the pain all seemed the same. Breathless, battered and bruised, I couldn’t move.
DETOURED BY DISTRACTIONS!
Oddly, only moments before the ferocious fall, I had taken the opportunity to talk to my hubby who had appeared by my left side. Typically I ride solo on the sidewalk, fully focused on my goal to get home safely. We always ride together, but separately. One of us in front of the other — never side-by-side. Honestly, hubby’s presence proved to be a huge distraction. While looking left, right there in the middle of my idle chit-chat, my Huffy Cruiser veered to the right… right off the pavement. My front tire wedged in the newly edged grass. Not a good time for our Community landscaper’s to have edged so expertly. With my tire entrenched in the deep hole, I failed miserably at returning it safely to the sidewalk. I over-compensated by sharply and swiftly turning my handlebars the opposite direction I was headed. As a native ‘Northerner,’ this maneuver always worked on black ice… but not so on an out-of-control bicycle here in the Sunshine State!
Do you know there’s no graceful way to fall off a bike? Well, the experts would advise you to tuck your head down between your shoulders, round your shoulders and shape your upper body into a ball. Oh, and try to stay as loose as possible; don’t be tense or stiff. You gotta be kidding me. Who has time for all that? I was aware I was in trouble, then my face was bouncing off the concrete. Sure, you can apply all the techniques that professional cyclists teach, but it’s still a good idea to pray you don’t die on the way down!
I LEARNED A LOT THAT DAY…
auger: (v) to involuntarily take samples of the local geology, usually with one’s face, during a crash — similar to a face plant
bacon: (n) scabs on a rider’s knees, elbows, or other body parts
cheese grater: (v) to grind off your skin against gravel, asphalt, bike parts, or the like
cranial disharmony: (adv) how one’s head feels after augering — (when my cheekbone hit that sidewalk, I had a definite feeling of cranial disharmony)
hunker: (n) one who is ejected wildly through the air and does not land on his/her feet
involuntary dismount: (n) a crash
rock-ectomy: (v) removing rocks, dirt, gravel from one’s person after a crash
stoned: (adj) a rider after a crash which imbeds stones into the rider’s skin
BUT, HERE’S THE NUMBER ONE LESSON I LEARNED…
You can imagine, as I’m nursing my wounds, the Holy Spirit has been speaking volumes to me.
Never, ever take your eyes off your goal — not even for a split second. On the road to our destiny there will be deliberate distractions planted by our adversary. Exercise wisdom, as some distractions look pretty darn dazzling. In my case, my eyes were fixed on a good thing… my husband! It just wasn’t the right thing for that moment in time. Not every good thing is a ‘God-thing!’
Satan is brilliant at bewitching us with beautiful distractions. In fact, he transforms himself into an ‘angel of light’ at times, so we don’t recognize the distraction as being dangerous. Every demonic distraction will leave us bruised and weary, but being single-minded toward our mission will protect us from pain. What’s your God-given assignment? You know, that one thing that you are capable of completing because He has called you to do it. How’s it going? Are you fully focused and flourishing or feeling distracted and defeated? If it’s the latter, I have good news for you…
A GOD-SENT GOOD SAMARITAN!
As I lay dazed on that dirty sidewalk, a kind gentleman stopped his car and offered to help. His actions created such a beautiful picture of Christ that I have to share it with you. Initially, because of pride and embarrassment, I rejected his helping hand. Knowing I couldn’t walk very well, my husband encouraged me to allow this stranger to fulfill his random act of kindness and take me home.
Pondering this man’s provision has been a vivid reminder of how Christ reacts to our failings. I was messed up! Do you know what someone smells like after riding seven miles in the Florida heat? He didn’t care. I was bleeding from my elbow, knee, and foot, but he wasn’t concerned about blood in his car. Pulling safely into my driveway, he opened my door and proceeded to help me walk to the front door. One shoe on, one off. One lonely lens left in my designer shades, one in my quivering hand. By now the left side of my face had swollen significantly and my cheekbone turned a few colors I didn’t know existed. An awful sight. As Jeff (that was his name) turned around to go back and get my battered bike, he leaned down and gave the slightest peck on my swollen cheek, as if to say, ‘everything’s going to be all right!’ So genuine. So gentle. I know God sent him my way that day.
My friend, whether you’ve fallen physically, emotionally or spiritually, God has not given up on you. Just like the angel in disguise at my front door, He sends a holy kiss from heaven today. He sees your bruises through eyes of compassion, not condemnation. Get back up, get back on that bike. You’re one beautiful mess!
© Glenda Motsavage and Healing Hands Blog, 2014.