A Tour de Faith

Have you ever seen those Peleton commercials? People riding stationary bikes in beautiful sunlit settings; smiling instructors stream right into their homes and challenge riders to summit that peak, cross that line. The exertion, the victory! Exciting, right? Not to me. Despite how great those commercials make cycling look, I loath it. I was a heavy kid, and I grew up in a neighborhood where almost every street was an incline. Getting my short, fat legs moving fast enough to carry my chunky butt up a hill and keep pace with my friends was exhausting and humiliating. I was always last, sometimes choosing to walk my bike up the hill just to arrive before sundown.

Fast forward to thinner, healthier -- but far from Size 4, Jillian Michaels -- me. I didn't get tired of being last: I do the best I can. I didn't tire of the hills: every ascent has an exhilarating free fall on the other side. I got tired of feeling terrible while cycling. I could have tried to change my friends, maybe coaxing them into a different activity. I could have tried to change the circumstances, staying at home while they cycled and only joining them when they were doing things less physical. I could have jumped off the bicycle and dumped my friends altogether, deciding that change -- any change at all -- would require too much effort, and our relationship wasn't worth it. Or I could change me, abandoning the cheese curls and moving away from the TV. (I feel a metaphor coming on!)

And that's the way it is with cycles. Every life has them. Some are  beneficial; others, detrimental. Some are easy with little benefit; others, rigorous with tremendous gains. Some should be broken, some should be established, and some should simply be endured with a grateful, humble heart.

Jesus prayed for His disciples. He wanted to effect change in them. The pattern was changing, He would no longer be around to disciple them daily, and He knew they needed to be prepared for what would come. To be successful, to survive this new cycle, they had to change. And did they ever!

Lot of the Bible was stuck in a terrible situation. He chose to deal with it himself, and wasn't doing such a great job. God gave Lot the opportunity for a fresh start elsewhere, and Sodom, a source of sin and ineffectiveness was completely eradicated.

Then there was Hannah, crying and pouring her heart out to God. She was barren and living with a man who, though he was kind, had another wife -- one who had given him children; she tormented Hannah relentlessly. God completely exchanged Hannah's pattern of grief for one of joy and favor by changing her circumstances.

Saul was a killing machine, but God wanted him to become a bearer of good news rather than dread. The transformation was so radical he was given a new name, and Paul's life became a cycle of traveling and writing, completely given over to bringing others the good news of Jesus.

What about cycles that can't be broken? What about cycles that occur through no fault of our own? Read the account of Joseph in the Old Testament. He endured a life of turmoil and false accusation, but never turned from God, even proclaiming that those who had hurt him may have desired to do him wrong, but God had used it all for good, "to save many people alive."

When it came to my cycling friends, I decided change was too much work, and I ditched them; but that has remained with me forever -- not because I lost great friends (I really don't remember most of them), but because I didn't break the cycle of indulgence and guilt for many years.

If you're caught in a cycle of addiction or bad behavior or wrong thinking, don't wait, seek change. If you've got no direction and you're not quite sure what your life is about, seek help -- from Jesus, from others; find yourself some good habits to begin. If you're doing all the right things, but tribulation seems to be running through you life on a loop, endure it, by God's help, with gratitude. He is doing something good.