No More Coasting

The lively one-horse town was just a hop, skip, and a jump from the farm where I grew up.  Situated close enough to be convenient, it was a far cry from the 15^th sideroad for this little country bumpkin.

Our old homestead was charming, really it was.  The insulbrick farmhouse boasted no fancy air conditioning unit but rustic windows, sashes propped open by a nearby ruler, curtains pinned open longing for a breeze. And amid the sweltering heat of summer, a thick, oppressive stench rolled in from the pig barn to the north.  

There were trees to climb and hay lofts to explore, as we raced past the angry mob of vicious geese; they were not the friendly type.  We had ponies to ride and calves to feed right out of a bucket if you called for them the right way.   

But my cousin Nettie was lucky; she lived in town.  At times (possibly coordinated with my mother’s fatigue) I was invited to their house for a sleepover. She had a swimming pool in a neatly fenced yard, a humungous box of jumbo freezies in the back room, and a 10-speed bike.

I clearly remember the two of us devouring an entire box of frozen treats in one afternoon and the tummy ache that followed. But in my mind, the most marvelous thing about town living had to be the paved streets.  Grabbing the bicycles, Nettie and I coasted up and down the smooth asphalt for hours on end.  It was glorious!

Returning home to the dusty sideroad, I invited my brother, Jack for a little bike ride.  We set out down the shady laneway working up speed, and when we reached Mach Chicken, turned our wheels out into the heavy sideroad gravel.  Immediately, our bike tires bogged in the thick stone.  We strained to pedal as the burden of sideroad sand and rocks clenched the narrow rubber tires. 

Faces lined with sweaty determination, we pushed, grunted, strained, and urged our shrieking calf muscles to keep the bikes upright in motion. 

Girlfriend, are you feeling like this today? Are you grinding hard, struggling and straining just to stay upright?  Are you pushing for all you’re worth, day after day longing for some relief?

Lately, it feels like the capacity to focus is a significant accomplishment.  Our brains are striving to fight distraction in ways that were unimaginable only a few short years ago.  It’s exhausting.  Heap on piles of sorrow, stress and anxiety, and the conflict intensifies. Sometimes we wonder if it’s even worth it.

Listen, sister what do we know to be true?  Our God is not far off.  This is His promise, and He is always faithful.  Neither is He surprised by any of this. His plan will prevail.

At the most anxious times, when my thoughts lay heavy, smothering my brain, my weary legs straining to pedal through the dense gravel, I’m reminded to pull over.  Step off.  To just be still, and focus on who God is.

My friend, let’s take a breather. Wander over to a quiet place and meet Him there.  Reflect on the character of the One who loves us more than we can ever fathom.  Sometimes this means physically going to another place, a quiet room or corner.  When my house was overrun with children, I often found refuge in the bathroom or hid in my car. Hey, whatever ya gotta do…

Sister, He’s the God of compassion. He will fill your heart with peace and your head with truth today.  Just ask Him to.

❤ Tess

Psalm 46:1
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

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