Bizarre Beauty.
I have a trend to do bizarre things on my Birthday each year.
2009: Climbed a water tower
2010: Plane ride across India to see the Taj Majol
2011: Got lost riding my bike for an hour+ in 95 degree weather.
This year, my bizarre birthday fun was not planned as the others were, yet it proved (post the exhaustion) itself worthy of remembrance when it taught me a great lesson.
The bike ride was supposed to be a leisurely ride to Emory to check out the path I’d take daily. I arrived at the intended building but then decided to take a different side street back, which I remembered connected to my route via back roads. My memory and sense of direction failed me as I proceeded to get lost in the ATL. It was fun exploring the unknown roads until I noticed how dry my mouth was...it hit intensely and randomly about 45 minutes into the pedaling.
Upon this realization, my goal changed from coasting along to finding some source of water. I was at the bottom of a GIANT hill, so I had to walk my bike up it. Half way (no joke, the hill was massive) I had to sit and rest from fatigue and a parched mouth. That’s when I noticed the many tiny water bumps* were trapped under my sunburnt skin.
I finally made it home, gulped down a cup of water, and ran off to church frustrated at my tardiness.
The metaphor within my bizarre birthday bike ride seemed to hit the moment I entered worship.
I often coast through life, stubbornly choosing my own ways despite the defined true paths I know, and I realize that I’ve “randomly” hit a dry season. I continue to push boundaries until I cannot go anymore. It’s at those moments that I cannot do anything but rest.
It’s in the moments of rest, I see the intricacies that keep me going. The water bumps were vital mechanism to keep me cool, to keep me going, to keep me from fainting. From the perspective of a girl who’s passionate about physiology, these vital water bumps actually encouraged me that I was going to be fine because I did indeed have water to sustain me. So I pushed to continue home.
It’s the same in my walk down the spiritual sidewalks. If I just rest, instead of being suborn and controlling of my own life, then I’d see the source of Living Water** sustaining me. I‘d be reminded that there’s a fountain within me providing life to the rest of me, which would spur me towards the right pathway home.
Funny how often I have to be reminded to rest and relinquish control. It may be even funnier to see how God has to use strange metaphors to remind me of the exact scripture verse exhibited on my computer’s background.
Despite my stubborn betrayal of His truth…
Despite being in a desolate season…
I can simply rest and know He’s there fighting for my good.
Such bizarre beauty.
* Think tiny non-painful water blisters all over my back, stomach, and arms. photo link of something similar to mine.
**Jer 2:23/17:13
