trust

Since Christmas, we've set out on these ventures, which we've hopefully called bike rides.


For Madeline, it's largely more of a bike push. She could pedal if she wanted, we think -- we've seen her do it-- but she'd rather not. After all,why pedal if someone will push you? And if you're as cute as Madeline, someone will likely push you.


Kathleen, on the other hand, could (and did!) pedal from the very beginning. She just did so very, very slowly. So slowly, in fact, that she'd surely have fallen over, were it not for the training wheels keeping her upright. She moved so slowly that bike riding didn't seem like much fun. (Not for her, and certainly not for the parent walking beside her.) She'd "ride" her bike down the block to the park, more excited about the park than than the bike.


We'd encourage. We'd cajole. We'd plead. We'd hop on her tiny bike and show her ourselves, whooping like mad men and women as we circled in an abandoned parking lot. But no matter what, she'd pedal a bit and then stop. And then start again, never doing more than creeping along. She was afraid. Afraid of falling, afraid of getting hurt.

And it shouldn't have been, but it was frustrating. We knew -- we just knew -- that if she'd trust us enough to pedal, to really bike, she'd love it. We wanted to make her pedal, to make her trust. But that's not how it works.

Jim was remarkably patient with our reluctant biker. And, by the grace of God, last week she finally "got it." One afternoon while out with her dad she suddenly picked up speed, beaming as she declared, "I went fast!" Now she races coasts along our little streets, eagerly exploring our post, while her Dad (because it's usually her Dad) jogs along next to her. Her face is lit with pride and joy.

It made me think about how I do the same thing. How I don't trust, how I rail against what God is doing in my life, what He's teaching me. How I drag my feet, trying vainly to protect myself, stealing the joy that He would give me if I'd only trust in Him.

Fortunately for me, my Father is even more patient than Kathleen's. He waits as I trust Him incrementally more each day. And one day, when I finally let go, when I finally, truly trust His plan more than my own, I, too, will coast in joy.