I think I have previously mentioned my Tuesday morning faith sharing group. We have been meeting together every Tuesday morning for over a year, reading things together, praying together, sharing our struggles and our joys, along with a bit of caffeine and a bite to eat. It has been wonderful meeting with these dear ladies and sharing Tuesday mornings with them.
One of the things we discussed this morning was the image of the faith life being like learning to ride a bicycle, an image presented in a new book we are reading: Direction for Our Times, as given to Anne, a lay apostle. Jesus is right there holding onto the bicycle, running alongside. Sometimes he lets go briefly to give us practice at keeping our spiritual balance. Even though it might be scary or stressful for us, he's there all along. When we feel like we are falling, he is right there to steady us.
Simple enough to understand.
The part I especially liked though was the dialogue happening between Anne and Jesus. She feels a bit sorry for herself and complains about failing the test, that she was falling and He had to reach out and grab her. But He assures her that it wasn't a test. It was practice. She didn't fail. She practiced. He was teaching her, and she was learning.
Ah.
I love that.
Practice. He was teaching her, and she was learning. She was in training.
I love that image of being in training. I remember one summer, I coached t-ball with 5 and 6 year olds. We had practice once a week. They were in training. They didn't expect that they would be able to hit the ball out of the park on their first at bat. Or really the entire summer. They were practicing. I was teaching them, and they were learning. They would hit the ball off the t. Every time they hit it, we would cheer for them. After several weeks, when they got somewhat good at hitting the ball off the t, I would take the t away and give them a chance of hitting a very friendly pitched ball. Sometimes they were able to hit it, mostly not. We would cheer every time they hit it, but were encouraging even when they didn't. I didn't expect them to hit the ball each time, and neither did they, even though I'm sure they wanted to. They were practicing. I was teaching them, and they were learning. I would give them four tries to hit the pitched ball, and then would bring back the t. They weren't failing. They were just getting a little practice.
I sort of know how to crochet. Nothing fancy, but I can make a hotpad or wash cloth or something very basic like that. The first hotpad I made wasn't very good. The stitches were too tight and the rows weren't even, but it was an ok first attempt. It didn't make me upset because I was just learning. I was practicing. A friend of mine who is a wonderful knitter saw my work and praised my effort. Obviously it wasn't contest-winning quality, but it was ok. She could see that I was trying and had made a decent attempt. Now I'm a teeny bit better, but I'm really just practicing. I'm learning how to do it.
My youngest son is learning to read. He's doing a tremendous job for a 5 year old. He reads books like "Pig Wig Can Hit" and "Sam and the Mitt." I don't give him "War and Peace." He sometimes gets b's and d's mixed up, but I give him lots of encouragement and remind him to sound things out and praise his efforts.
Even Olympic athletes and pro ball players practice. Even marathon runners and chess champions are in training. Entire symphonies and ballet productions practice. They do things again and again and again, and even the best ones are humble enough to know that they need to practice.
So, I'm in training. I'm living a Christian life, but every day is training.
When I first started riding the Christian bike so to speak, I felt Jesus' hand all the time. He was constantly there steadying me. He didn't let go of the bike for a second, and He was constantly reassuring me, giving me 'atta girls, cheering me on and telling me exactly what to do. The path was straight and flat and even. No rocks. No potholes. Jesus was teaching me, and I was learning.
It's not like that anymore. There are plenty of rocks and potholes, path is far from straight, flat, and even. Some days it feels like top speed mountain biking, but Jesus is right there with me. He is teaching me, and I am learning.
Sometimes I fall off, or scrape my knee, or skid out. Sometimes I get sulky and complain to God about it. Sometimes I get angry when I catch my tire in a pothole for the umpteenth time. Really I should just brush myself off, put my feet back on the pedals, and keep going. I just need to keep practicing. I am in training. He is teaching me, and I am learning.