Several months have passed now since I've been to the beach. When the weather gets right I hope to be there again. There's something about the oceanfront that moves me in each of the five senses...the smell...the sound...the sight...the feel...even the taste of the salty water as a wave knocks me off balance. I love it all...but there's something else that I get a chance to notice when I mount my bicycle and ride along the "front-beach" roads.
I'm not a particularly fast rider. I mean, I know a few people who are and so I'm just saying I'm really, really not. But the last time I rode at the beach I was. No kidding. At first I couldn't put my finger on my new-found strength...attaining speeds that had previously been, quite simply, unattainable. I'm not even breathing hard...not even straining...can I even call this a "workout"? This is easy. I love bike riding! And for the first 10 miles, I relished every pedal rotation. Then it was time to turn back toward the hotel...and I suddenly became...um...painfully aware of my source of road supremacy.
The breeze that was enabling my success, was now "against me" as they say...You've got to be kidding! I'm positive this is the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm soooo counting this as a "workout"! Creeping back home took nearly twice as long and I muttered little bitter jibes at myself all the way..."20 miles...what were you thinking...nice going genius...I hate bike riding!"
But I did take one little nugget of truth away from my joy ride...that Friday morning easterly tail wind reminded me of the presence of the Holy Spirit that lives in me. When I'm flowing with Him, He gives me the strength to "run (or maybe even ride) and not get weary" (Isaiah 40:31). And when I turn in reverence and "look full in His wonderful face"...I immediately sense His company...know He's there...feel His strength...and realize that in Him I "live and move and have my being". I pray His fresh wind blows you to your greatest adventure yet...and in the middle of it...I hope you get the wonderful privilege of feeling really, really small.