While I thought I'd heard all of the reasons why I shouldn't ride my pony which you can read all about in I Just Wanna Ride that I don't care to reiterate because they're born of ignorance or deception, a friend just coughed up one that's never been on my radar.
He said, "I wish you'd give up your motorcycle 'cause I don't want to go through another pastor search committee."
After eight years, I guess that was supposed to be even more affirming and affectionate than cute; and I received it as such.
Yet, I replied, "I think it's more dangerous to be an American diplomat in Libya or catching the attention of the IRS for not goose-stepping to..."
Talk about ignorance or deception!
Anyway, I continued, "Besides, I ride because I just wanna ride; and because I really believe in Jesus and what He said about the next life being better than this one...as well as offering hope to my enemies."
Actually, people, like my mom and wife and guys who act more like gals, who do everything possible to discourage the therapeutic benefits of mounting the mule - got lots of metaphors - not to mention the gender-specific need to domesticate/emasculate/feminize the gender born to be wild (see John Eldredge's Wild at Heart and, uh, I Just Wanna Ride for more on that) haven't discovered my win-win when it comes to travel these days.
If I want to visit family in Pennsylvania, Texas, or Washington, all I do is talk about carving out a few days to take the pony/mule aka Return out of the barn and an airplane ticket appears instantaneously without me investing a...
While I'd rather take Return and ride and will, I save time and money by just suggesting...
Amazing how folks can find $ for...
I could use their help on the 10th for FLHTCU...
If you're not a biker, don't even try to figure out what that 10th for FLHTCU is all about.
O.K., the previous was just to catch your attention.
I gotta confess something.
Ever since Jesus really, really, really became Lord and Savior of my life - noting that I'm just scratching the surface of my relationship with Him and His and, ergo, spending even more time than ever before in confession and repentance 'cause I'm more aware than ever before of how I keep messin' up and need cleanin' up and don't know as much as I pretended to know as some kinda vocational, uh, whatever - I can't be as miserable as the people in my life who try to make me as miserable as they are by their OCDish need to control, manipulate, annoy, and, uh, demonize.
Really, it's hard to be consistently or mostly or too often miserable if you're spendin' more and more and more time with Jesus than them and gettin' filled up with Him more than drained by, uh, them.
I hope you know what I mean.
I know trying to explain that to someone who ain't close to Jesus is like tryin' to explain why I ride/mount my...
I also know that when we're really, really, really gettin' close to Him and, ergo, His, there's another out there with lots of accomplices that wanna drag us down to their miserable...
Again, hang with Jesus and you won't get hung up by 'em.
Ya won't even think too much about 'em anymore.
In short, Jesus saves us from it/them.
Blessings and Love!
Passed just about the most decent and orderly pack of riders this a.m. 25+ in formation. Being a cyclist, and not a biker, I couldn't figure out their deal. But they had a "Ride Coordinator," a "Chaplain," and other folks who had some kind of responsibility for the ride. There was lots of denim and leather, whiskers and poneytails, and it looked like a good bunch to ride with, but I just can't pedal that fast!
Later this morning I went out on my wheels for a 22-mile spin around the hills by my WNC home. Unfortunately I was barely a mile into the ride when a dog ran out and had a taste of my drumstick! (FYI, dogs are why my wife tells me to become a track cyclist.) Here's my fb posting (rant) on the experience:
(Warning: FB friends, and anyone else who may eventually read this should proceed with caution, the following will probably devolve quickly into a “rant.”)
Pray for me! Why? I think I may be the devil. Again, why? Well, who/what but that which is consummately evil would ever be bitten by a Golden Retriever (a Golden Retriever!). Yet this morning, about a mile from my house, having just started a ride, a big ol’ Golden came charging out at me and bit me on the leg. Not a nasty Pit Bull death grip by any means, but drawing blood, stinging quite a bit, and prompting this outpouring of emotion!
People who know me understand that, while I am a staunch supporter of the 2nd Amendment, I have never had any interest in owning a gun. But after today (And several times of being bitten while riding) I am seriously thinking about signing up for the next Concealed Carry course. If owners are going to continue to be irresponsible, and let their dogs roam free to be a danger to innocent passersby, then I may well be moved to pack something in my jersey pocket beside some energy bars. I’m just saying…
Two things scare me when I ride: 1) crashes and, 2) dogs. But I don’t ride worrying about crashing. I do ride worried about whether I am going to get torn up by some mutt. When I’m on my bike I am scared out of my wits when a dog comes aggressively charging out in the road with its eyes on my juicy little calves, probably because if it launches a serious attack I will not only be bitten, but also crash. The thought of bringing some dog treats to throw at them has crossed my mind. But I imagine they would just be kind of breath mints for the dog after it polishes me off. (I have to admit that my long-suffering wife would be perfectly justified, upon reading all this, to say to herself, “If that fool of a husband of mine dies on his bicycle, I’ll be darned if I go to his funeral!”)
BTW-Having tried the advice of another rider who was part of a Bicycling Magazine discussion thread about dogs, and barked back at them, my (painful) empirical results tells me that just makes them even more aggressive.
Seriously. Whoever lives on Rock House Road, up a hundred yards or so from Bethel Church Road (And I have no doubt you are not one of my FB friends), your dog is a disgrace to a noble breed and you are among the world’s worst dog owners. Getting bitten by a Golden Retriever is kind of like being mugged by Mickey Mouse. It just doesn’t happen to decent folks.
Then, again, maybe I am the devil…
Looking forward to never ending heavenly rides!
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