When I met Jesus, life became like a bike ride. It was a tandem bike; I rode in the front and steered, and Jesus was in the rear seat, helping to pedal.
I don’t remember just when it happened, but Jesus suggested we change places. Life hasn’t been the same since. Jesus makes the ride so exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was safe and predictable but rather boring—always the shortest distance between two points. But when Jesus got in the driver’s seat, He knew delightful “long cuts” up mountain roads and down again at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hold on!
I didn’t want to question His judgment, but once I couldn’t help myself. “Don’t You think we should slow down just a little? I’m scared.” He turned and smiled and touched my hand and said, “It’s okay. Pedal.”
Sometimes I got worried and anxious and asked, “Where are You taking me?”
“It’s a surprise,” He would say with a laugh. Gradually, I learned to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered the adventure.
He took me to meet people with gifts that I needed—gifts of love, healing, acceptance, joy. They gave me gifts to take on my journey—our journey, my Lord’s and mine—and we were off again. He would say, “Give the gifts away.” So I would. But the strangest thing happened. I found that the more I gave away, the more I had for myself and to give to other people we met along the way. And still our load was light.
At first I didn’t trust Jesus to be in control of my life. I thought He would wreck it. But He knows the bike’s capabilities and limits and all sorts of tricks. He knows how to take sharp corners at high speeds, make the bike “jump” to clear rocks in our way, and He can even make it fly when the road disappears beneath us.
I’m learning not to worry or want to get back in control but just to relax and enjoy the view, the cool breeze on my face, and the delightful company of my constant companion.
I still get tired sometimes because it is a long, hard ride, but Jesus just smiles and says, “Pedal.”
Anything under God’s control is never out of control.—Charles Swindoll (b. 1934)