Head for the Hills

John 8: 31-32 -  If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. 

I had a dream.

I had a dream of the Fourth of July.

I had a dream of celebrations surrounded by white picket fences.  Crisp apple pie and pitchers of lemonade set on red checkered tablecloths.  Hamburgers sizzling on the grill, homemade vanilla ice cream in the icebox, and watermelon juice trickling down a child's chin. 

I had a dream of fireworks so bright, I could see them when I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes, and remembered that my kids are with their dad today.  No apple pies in my future.  And if I want ice cream, I'll have to settle for Blue Bell.  I will watch my fireworks on TV.  If I'm awake.  And if Storage Hunters is a rerun.

Pity party, table for one, please.

This morning, instead of packing up the car with coolers and casseroles and cakes decorated like American flags, I loaded my bike and set out.  I planned on an easy ride so I could spend my energy wallowing in my broken dreams.

As I rolled up on the intersection, I glanced to my left.  I'd never gone left.  To the right was flat, smooth pavement.  Easy.  Painless.  Exactly what my sore psyche needed.  To the left, the road curved into a hill.  An obnoxious bully that would push me and tease me and make me feel like I'm not good enough.  I hate hills.  I'd always avoided the left because of that hill. 

Today, God had different plans.  Today, I went left.

Not only was there a hill.  There were lots of hills.  I could see them in the distance, lurking, looming.  They taunted me like a gang of steroid-shooting, pimple-popping meatheads.  Groaning, I argued with myself.  Turn back and go the safe and simple route!  Plow forward and face the meatheads!  Turn back!  Face the meatheads!  Back!  Meatheads!

I didn't turn back.  Slowly, steadily, I took on each hill.  Some weren't as intimidating as they seemed from a distance.  We got to know each other and then we parted ways with a friendly smile. 

But others attacked me.  I felt trapped.  I couldn't just stop.  Getting started again would be impossible.  I couldn't turn around.   If I did, I'd just be facing the backside of the meatheads, and sometimes they were even uglier from behind. 

So instead of letting the hill stuff me in a locker, I looked past it to the other side.  I focused on the sweet freedom of the downhill, wind blasting past me like a live thing while the landscape liquefied into a blurry canvas of yellows and greens and browns.

Forty-five miles later, I pedaled to my car on legs that felt like jelly donuts, and I had one thought in my head.

"I'll never do that again!"

The hills in life can be just as daunting.  We see them up ahead, and worry settles in our hearts.  Questions hammer our thoughts.

Can I make it up that hill? 

What if I fail? 

What if I fall? 

Is there time to turn back?

What if the hill defeats me?

What will become of me then?

What is your hill today?

Can I give you a bit of encouragement as you face the meatheads?

God gives you the freedom to choose your path in life.  But the path of healing and growth and deep relationship with Him will seldom be the easiest or the smoothest.  God doesn't promise that His path will be without hills.  In fact, His Word tells us that taking the easy way out can leave you crushed and broken and lost in the dark alleys of Rock Bottom.  Population: You.

But He does promise that Jesus will be alongside you as you navigate the hills.  The meatheads can't push you around because Jesus' muscles don't give out.  The heat doesn't bother Him.  He doesn't get thirsty or tired.  His back doesn't ache and His skin doesn't burn and your incessant complaining just makes Him smile.

Listen to Jesus whispering to you in the rush of the wind and the beating of your heart.  He speaks the Truth, and His Truth is all you have to hang on to.  That Truth is that He loves you.  He would never leave you to take on the meatheads by yourself.  The hills may leave you feeling beaten, but by His grace, Jesus heals - bruised muscles and broken hearts.  And then He makes you stronger.

Turn to Him.  Take Him with you when you go on a ride.  Let Jesus be your GPS, and when a hill looms in your future, give Him your worries.  He wants them!  He doesn't want you dragging them along as you climb that hill.  And trust that even if the hill leaves you exhausted and out of breath, He will breathe life back into you on the other side.

I still don't like the meatheads.  But they don't scare me anymore.
    
Because I know that sweet freedom is just a hill away.