Look Mom... No Training Wheels!

Sunday afternoon—after my grueling, mostly uphill mountain bike ride (how is it possible to go uphill both leaving home and returning?)—I was back home watching my brood and their friends ride their various bikes, scooters, big wheels, etc. Jade was having trouble with her bike because the training wheels were stuck and wouldn't turn. She was forced to push so hard to try to turn the wheels that she could barely stay on the bike.

After watching for a while I could take it no longer; I promptly turned her bike over and performed a trainingwheeldetactomy (medical term for sure). She was none too happy. So as not to embarrass her in front of her friends, I called her off to the side to find out why she was so upset. I wiped the tears from her eyes and as calmly as I could told her that she was a big girl now and needed to ride her bike without the training wheels. Amidst her snuffles, she said, "but Jefe (that's what she calls me… means the boss in Espanol), I'm scared." "Of what?" I asked. Her response made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. She said, "I'm scared of growing up."

Yesterday afternoon, when I returned from my myriad errands, I walked into the house to the peels of laughter from my three and their friends. The chicks were ecstatic that I was back home. Eden—despite her stuttering—informed me that I had to go outside with them because Jade was going to ride her bike with "no trainin wheelds," (exact quote). We all marched outside (they marched, I sauntered… for some reason Aerosmith's Walk This Way comes to mind) and pulled the bikes out of the garage. After some brief explanation, Jade was on her bike with me walking beside her, holding her steady. I walked her up and down the alley behind our house a few times, then told her it was time for her to try it on her own. At first she was a bit nervous, but I talked her into it.

Then—without warning—I let go.

She warbled, but then corrected herself and was off down the alley without me. Eden was beside herself with glea. She ran inside the house to get Olga. I could hear her yelling all the way out in the street, "Look Mom! No trainin wheelds!" Jade wasn't laughing or talking, she was too busy concentrating on not falling. It was awesome.

After a couple of small tumbles she realized that she wasn't really going fast enough to hurt herself, so she ventured further down the alley. Then, without me having to teach her, she turned around (without having to get off the bike) and came back to me. Just as she got even with me she said, "Jefe, look what I just learned." She turned around me and headed back the other way.

She is—of course—now a pro, and ready to get her own wristband campaign started.

I thought about our afternoon all evening. Jade had said something the day before that I didn't understand. I called her aside and asked her why she was scared to grow up. Her answer was, "I was scared I would hurt myself if I fell. But I'm not scared anymore, cuz I fell, but it wasn't so bad."

Now, y'all know me well enough to know that I can't simply let this kind of good stuff go by without a comment.

I began to think about my own journey to salvation and Christ-imitation. When I started really trying eight or so years ago I was so scared that I would get something wrong, that I would stumble, that I would disappoint, that I would hurt myself… During that time God was patient with me; He held my hand, He guided me through my pastor to fall in love with His Word, His Character, Him. At first, I could only handle the milk of the Text, and Pastor would have to prepare a warm bottle so that there would be no shock to my fragile system. Then, as I developed and grew stronger, I could handle stronger Spiritual food. God never left me, and yes, I still relied entirely on my pastor to feed me what God had prepared, but I was stronger.

Then the day came that God wanted to speak to me directly. I heard a Voice (not literally, but go with me on this journey for a bit). I didn't recognize it. It was almost as if the Voice spoke from within me. The Voice called my name. I ran to my pastor and told him what had happened, he patiently told me to respond to the Voice. So, I did. The next thing I knew, God was talking to me, speaking things into my character, illuminating His Character…

But… I didn't understand… how could God speak to me directly? As I became more brave I told God that I was scared to go where He was calling me. I was scared because I knew this was a place I had to go alone. This was a place that Pastor couldn't take me. God was calling me to a relationship with Him. The lyrics that Toby Mac wrote for DC Talk came to mind: "What if I stumble, what I fall, what if I lose my step and make fools of us all…" But God was gently pulling me, reassuring me all along the way. Pastor was right there supporting me as I moved toward God.

Then… there was a peace. A peace that far surpassed anything that I could have imagined. I was completely and totally surrounded by God Himself. I floated for a bit, simply because it was so amazing. Then, as I got my bearings, I began to move deeper into relationship with God. The ride was (and is) amazing. For a while I didn't even notice that it was just me and God. Then, I felt fear bubble up from my belly into my throat. Where was Pastor? Doesn't he know that I can't make it without him? Why did he let me go? I looked down to where Pastor had been, supporting me as I moved deeper into God, but he wasn't there. It was then that I heard him, I turned to the side and saw him running beside me, calling out encouragement, warning me to watch out for the obstacles that were strewn across the path. He wasn't holding my hand any more, but he was still there.

It was like my training wheels were gone.

I was lost in God's Essence.

Sure, this was mostly allegory, but I hope you see my deeper point. I truly thank God for a pastor who was willing to let me go into God. If any of you ever get the opportunity to sit under their ministry, Jeff and Sandra Morgan are the greatest pastors to have ever filled the sacred desk.