It was a wobbly start even though my six-year-old looked confident as she
picked up her bike.  A breeze whipped her hair across her face as she looked
over her shoulder to throw me a smile and to make sure I was there, watching. 
She had protestingly donned jeans, ever my skirt wearer.  Last year, she had
finished the best part of bike season fairly proficient.  We had even biked
together, though a little precariously, in the addition where we live.  Now, at
her first attempt this year, she expected the best.  However, the bike wobbled
under her as her muscle memory geared up for the first time in months.  She fell
over several times.  It actually took a couple of days for her, but soon she was
riding confidently and feeling rather happy, I would say.

My bike wobbled too as my friend told me they were headed back to the
hospital with her little girl.  I was walking along just fine when God asked me
to start riding again.  I too glanced over my shoulder to make sure He was
there.  I got out my bible and let truth sink into my heart from passages that
had sustained my life more than once in storms.  A couple of the pages seemed to
fall open to these deep, life-preserving verses.  Others stayed hidden deep in
my own rusty "muscle memory".  A slightly easier season of life had allowed my
muscles to weaken a bit as I focused on other things.  Now my heart demanded
them to do their job.  I found myself reminded of my desperate need of
Jesus.

So with It is Well playing in the background, I got on my
bike.  I flexed my memory, "Is it first Corinthians four or second Corinthians?" 
I checked both and reread, "Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly
we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far  outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is  unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

I climbed back up on the bike and unsteadily rode toward Jesus.  The process
of surrender and trust is a wobbly one at times, at least for me.  The drive for
me to encourage my friend with life-giving truth and not just kind words makes
me get back up when I fall. 

However, I gained strength and momentum in the riding.

Paul reminded me of my aim in Philippians 3, "that I may know Him and the
power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in  his death."  The courage God gave to the early disciples in Acts 14 gave courage
to me, "strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue  in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the  kingdom of God."  Jesus' life itself begets strength in Hebrews 5, "Although He  (Jesus) was a son, He learned obedience through what He suffered."  

I continued reading reminding myself of our sovereign God, our great
treasure.  As I focus my mind willfully on who He is, my heart fills with love,
adoration, and gratefulness.  When the God of the universe promises Himself as
Abraham's very own shield (Genesis 15), when He guarantees the priestly tribe of
the Levites the inheritance of Himself (Deuteronomy 18), I find myself saying,
"Lord, I want You as my shield and inheritance!"  

"You are my portion and my cup...indeed I have a beautiful inheritance,"
Psalm 16 declares.  "May all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You! May those  who love Your salvation say evermore, 'God is great!'" Psalm 70:4 sings.  "You  are good and do good; teach me Your statutes," Psalm 119:68 reminds.

I am biking hard now in hot pursuit of God instead of my own understanding,
and there is indeed the fullness of joy in His presence.