One wintry day back in ’76 or ’77. I rode to work as usual with around 6” of snow on the ground. My ride on Bushwick Ave. totaled about three miles each way. It was cold and windy. I wore my large army coat which repelled water and snow. It was great for fighting the wind-chill-factor. On my back I carried an army knapsack. It was rugged and strong. It carried extra clothing for the weather as well as emergency items.
On the way home that afternoon, we were getting hit by a snowstorm expecting another 10” making visibility very difficult. My ride from Flushing Avenue to Myrtle Avenue was an uphill one. After that it leveled out for the next two miles before going uphill again. Aware that I could not ride the bike, I began walking home. Just past Myrtle, a motorist, trudging along at about 5 mph. and finding himself right next to me, leaned over, lowered his passenger-side window, and said, “Oh, I see, some people walk their dog, but you walk your bike!” Dumbfounded, and before I could explain, he laughed and moved on.
Sometimes, our walks are long. Sometimes, they’re through pouring rain. Other times, they may be through scorching heat. They might even be like that day, through a storm. Whether you’re walking through puddles (lots of tears), deserts (finances dried up), snow drifts (bills mounting), or slush (all stressed out), remember these famous lyrics of long ago:
“And he walks with me and he talks with me And he tells me I am his own And the joy we share as I tarry there None other has ever known.”
Jesus makes the walk more pleasant-whether you’re walking a dog or walking a bike. And while He’s there walking beside you, allow Him to carry your knapsack loaded with your worries, problems, and sins. He’s going your way. Above all, remember to laugh in the midst of your storm.
*In the Garden by C. Austin Miles, 1913
God Bless!
Sam
