The Rough Places Plain

Continuing the theme of God's word coming through strange means, here's a familiar text set to familiar (to some) music presented in a most unusual way:



Wow. I'm pretty sure that doesn't live up to its own lyric "Speak ye comfortably..."

This text and its theme of straight paths have been brought to my mind repeatedly in the past two months or so, not the least by my cycling experiences. My first long ride after the crash set them before me once again. On Friday, September 30, Will Thompson and I rode south of Rock Hill to the place where I crashed on Strait Rd. Here's what we found:

The hole that caused my crash was filled in

 I don't know if my accident had anything to do with the filling of the hole; it's possible, because the man who gave Robert and me a ride back to town said he'd been requesting the repair for a while and that the hole had almost caused a car accident (whether for him or someone he knew I don't recall). Either way, I was reminded of the words of Isaiah, "The uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain" (Isaiah 40:4). Did Isaiah work in earth removal on a highway crew? Probably not, but his use of natural imagery suggests he probably spent a good deal of time outdoors.

What does this phrase mean, then? The context speaks of the Lord's comforting His people, forgiving the sins of Jerusalem, and revealing his glory to all flesh (Isaiah 40:1-2, 5). Isaiah 35 also connects the renewal of the wilderness with the revelation of the glory of the Lord and a "highway of holiness" for the redeemed to travel, with the added promise of healing for the blind, deaf, lame, and mute (Is 35:1-2, 5-6, 8-10). Isaiah 51 shares similar themes, echoing ch. 35 and its promise of God's redeemed people returning to Zion (Is 51:11; cf. 35:10), and tellingly speaks of "waste places," "wilderness," and "desert" as aspects of Zion which God will "comfort" (Is 51:3). This suggests that the geographical imagery in these texts is to be understood at least in part (it may have multiple senses, as the prophets often do) as referring to moral or spiritual qualities God sees in people's hearts and lives.

What kind of lives are like deserts and rough ground? Luke gives us confirmation as well as some guidance in this interpretation in applying this text to John the Baptist

the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness. And he went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet,

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall become straight,
and the rough places shall become level ways,
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”

St. John the Baptist Preaching in the Wilderness, Pieter Bruegel the Younger

He said therefore to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Luke 3:2-9, emphasis mine)

John's exhortation in the desert of Jordan to the people to repent and be baptized for forgiveness fulfills Isaiah's prophecy of a voice crying in the wilderness, and his instruction of how they should live, having repented, corresponds to the call to prepare the way of the Lord. That so many people heard and responded to John's message (cf Mark 1:5) seems to be the fulfillment of the promise of filled valleys, lowered mountains, straightened crooks, and leveled roughs. Or perhaps a fulfillment of the promise: the threatened judgment against the people's self-righteousness, spoken of as God "raising up" children of Abraham from stones and "cutting down" trees that don't bear fruit echoes the lowering and raising language of Isaiah.

This theme of "turning things upside down" continues as the kingdom of God arrives and advances in the person of Jesus and his words and deeds. So many of Jesus' teachings fit this pattern: the meek inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5), the one who exalts himself is humbled (Luke 18:14), and the one who seeks to save his life will lose it (Luke 9:24). Even the ongoing ministry of the apostles after Jesus' ascension is spoken of as "men who have turned the world upside down" (Acts 17:6). 

But perhaps Jesus' greatest work of leveling was his humiliation, suffering, and death. In these he walked through our uneven ground and rough places, indeed the "harshest terrain" any of us ever face in this life, and by walking in them, He made them smooth.

• he became poor so that we through his poverty might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9)
• he was rejected by his own people (Is 53:3; Jn 1:11), so that we who receive him might be received as his people (Jn 1:12; Rom 5:1-2; 9:25-26)
• he learned obedience through his suffering (Heb 5:8) so that we might experience suffering as the Father's loving discipline that makes us holy and leads to glory (Heb 12:3-14; Rom 8:16-18)
• he became sin, that in him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21)
• he died to destroy the devil who had the power of death and free us from our fear-of-death-induced lifelong slavery (Heb 2:14-15)

This last point is one to dwell on; I don't think we listen carefully, let alone believe, the amazing things the New Testament says about the transformation of death through Jesus. This was brought to my attention this week by the comment from Steve Jobs in his 2005 commencement speech at Stanford that "no one wants to die; even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there." Hmm. I may be speaking defensively of my beliefs as a Christian, but I don't think he's quite right. Paul wrote to the Philippians some of the most amazing words ever expressed by a person about death,

it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, (Philippians 1:20-25)

Paraphrase: "I don't care whether I live or die as long as Christ is glorified." The telling feature of this passage is that Paul speaks precisely the way someone speaks who is torn between two options: can't you hear someone speaking this way about which job to take, or where to go out to eat, or what bike to buy? "I can't decide; I'm hard pressed between them. I want to do this, but it would be better for them if I do that."

Paul, Archiepiscopal oratory of St. Andrew in Ravenna, Italy, late 5th century

Some would say Paul had lost his mind, to which he replies "I am not out of my mind . . . but I am speaking true and rational words" (Acts 26:25). Paul wrote more of the New Testament than any other human author, and is regarded as the most influential theologian (behind Jesus himself) in the history of Christianity; much of his moral teaching is regarded by people of all faiths as sublime; and his depth of insight into human nature and Scripture stretches the minds of the most brilliant scholars. He's not a lunatic. Rather, he had seen the risen Christ, and was so convinced that Jesus was risen that he said Christians were pitiable fools if he wasn't raised (1 Cor 15:12-19). But he also experienced more deeply than most the life-transforming power of the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus himself promises to give to those who ask for him (Lk 11:13). The Spirit is the Lord and giver of life who mediates Jesus' personal presence and gives assurance of regeneration and such confidence in Jesus' resurrection and our share in it that the heaviest burden of suffering becomes light in comparison to the eternal weight of glory it produces (2 Cor 4:17). Not only did Paul desire to depart and be with Christ, but he wanted to suffer for him and with him:

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ . . . and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3:8, 10-11)

 Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. (Col 1:24)

Paul's willingness, even desire, for suffering and death sound shockingly morbid to us, but in these statements, he's not suicidal or morbid, but rather exuberant and hopeful, out of love for Christ. The Spirit of God had sealed to his heart the full depth of Christ's death-defying death and these truths he wrote and God speaks to us:

• "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." (Rom 8:18) 
• "Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us." (Rom 8:34-35)
• "For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:28-39)
• "For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's. (1 Cor 3:21-23)
• “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor 15:51-55)
• Those who have died in Christ are "asleep." (John 11:11 1 Cor 15:18; 1 Thess 4:13-15)

Like parents describing thunder as God rolling strikes in his heavenly bowling alley, Jesus and his apostles almost jokingly describe death like an afternoon nap; one day, Jesus will say to all of those who are part of his bride, "Honey, wake up" (Mk 5:41).

To believe Jesus' power over death is nothing less than to see the glory of God, as Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” (John 11:40, cf 11:4, 25-26) That our original text from Isaiah 40 also connects the leveling of uneven ground with the revelation of God's glory suggests that this interpretation is on the right track:

 Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.” (Isaiah 40:4-5) 

Isaiah's next words also support this:

All flesh is grass,
and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower fades,
but the word of our God will stand forever. (Isaiah 40:6b, 8) 

In light of this, John's familiar words come into sharper relief: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14). This is how we see the glory of the Lord in brightest color, that the eternal Word of God (Jn 1:1; Is 40:8), the second person of the Trinity, became flesh and was even cut down like grass, but was raised back to life, so that through him we might stand forever (cf Jn 12:23-24).

In the spirit of divine beauty expressed in an outwardly unattractive form, here's Schprockets meets Handel. The style is odd; the singing impeccable.

"God once spoke through the mouth of an ass..."

It's October! Time to bust out the monk robe, bury myself in some books, pour pumpkin into my pancakes, and maybe even throw back a beer or two. And read some of this guy:

"(God) once spoke through the mouth of an ass (Num 22:28); therefore, no man is to be despised, however humble he may be. On the other hand, He permitted the highest angel to fall from heaven; therefore, no man is to be trusted, no matter how wise, holy, or great he may be. One should rather give a hearing to all, and wait to see through which one of them God will speak and act." -Martin Luther in Temporal Authority: To What Extent it Should be Obeyed  

I mention this quote for more than shock value; my recent cycling experiences have reminded me of God's opening the mouth of Balaam's donkey in Numbers 22. Balak, King of Moab, summoned Balaam the prophet to curse Israel; after initially denying him permission, God let him go, but warned him "only do what I tell you" (Num 22:20). Here's the pivotal part of the story:

But God's anger was kindled because he went, and the angel of the LORD took his stand in the way as his adversary. Now he was riding on the donkey, and his two servants were with him. And the donkey saw the angel of the LORD standing in the road, with a drawn sword in his hand. And the donkey turned aside out of the road and went into the field. And Balaam struck the donkey, to turn her into the road. Then the angel of the LORD stood in a narrow path between the vineyards, with a wall on either side. And when the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she pushed against the wall and pressed Balaam's foot against the wall. So he struck her again. Then the angel of the LORD went ahead and stood in a narrow place, where there was no way to turn either to the right or to the left. When the donkey saw the angel of the LORD, she lay down under Balaam. And Balaam's anger was kindled, and he struck the donkey with his staff. Then the LORD opened the mouth of the donkey, and she said to Balaam, “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” And Balaam said to the donkey, “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” And the donkey said to Balaam, “Am I not your donkey, on which you have ridden all your life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” And he said, “No.”

The Angel Appearing to Balaam, Gustave Dore

Then the LORD opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the LORD standing in the way, with his drawn sword in his hand. And he bowed down and fell on his face. And the angel of the LORD said to him, “Why have you struck your donkey these three times? Behold, I have come out to oppose you because your way is perverse before me. The donkey saw me and turned aside before me these three times. If she had not turned aside from me, surely just now I would have killed you and let her live.” Then Balaam said to the angel of the LORD, “I have sinned, for I did not know that you stood in the road against me. Now therefore, if it is evil in your sight, I will turn back.” And the angel of the LORD said to Balaam, “Go with the men, but speak only the word that I tell you.” So Balaam went on with the princes of Balak. (Numbers 22:22-35, emphasis mine)

I can imagine my bike saying to me, "Am I not your bike, on which you have ridden all your life to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?" To which I echo Balaam's answer "No." That's my story, besides some donkeyishly stubborn chronic wheel problems and a few broken parts from riding too hard. Before August, the worst damage a wreck had caused me was a bent rim; and I'd not been to the emergency room since sixth grade. That's more than 20 years and probably 40,000+ miles of riding. Then in one month I have two accidents that crack my frame and put me in the hospital, albeit only for a few hours, thankfully.

Not only that, but my cumulative bike woes this summer have gradually opened my eyes to the מַלְאַ֤ךְ יְהוָה֙ (malak Yahweh, lit. "messenger of Yahweh") standing in my way, with his drawn sword in his hand. No, I've not had visions of angels and I'm not losing my mind, at least not any more than usual. The "angel of the LORD" in the Old Testament is commonly viewed by Christian interpreters as a pre-incarnate appearance of the God the Son; one reason is that texts where he appears often comingle this title with simply "the LORD" (e.g., Gen 16:7-13; 22:15f.). Here, the angel of the LORD assumes divine prerogatives in giving Balaam similar commands as God (Num 22:20, 35, 38) and carrying out God's will (Num 22:22). I've come to perceive that Christ is opposing me in my way, and the sword He wields is not one for cutting off my limbs, but sharp enough to pierce my very soul and judge the thoughts and intentions of my heart (Heb 4:12; Luke 2:35).

What is he saying? I've noted before how God seems to be providentially bringing my attention back to several texts dealing with themes of His fatherly discipline and straight paths. I've been seeking to give heed to the exhortation to "make straight paths for your feet" (see Heb 12:12-13), often praying "Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths" (see Ps 25:4-5), and He's answered "All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness" (Ps 25:10) and "Let your eyes look directly forward . . . Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil" (see Prov 4:25-27) and "let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus" (Heb 12:1-2). The insight that's helped me most is that the root idea of the Hebrew words translated "ways" and "paths" in these texts isn't so much concerned with going somewhere new as it is with habit, manner of life, custom, which is what paths really are: they're places people customarily travel. I get so obsessed with riding, with knocking out particular sections of roads, with getting "done" with my goal, that I let more important things slide, and this choice of priority quickly becomes a habit, even an addiction, and it's not good. I don't set out to, but I end up neglecting sleep, eating the same thing day after day, letting the house and yard go, riding too many loner cul-de-sac ventures and no club rides, slacking off in work responsibilities, not to mention my neglect of spiritual disciplines of prayer, reading Scripture, and fellowship with God's people. In terms of Balaam's story, "I have come out to oppose you because your way is perverse before me" ( כִּֽי־יָרַ֥ט הַדֶּ֖רֶךְ לְנֶגְדִּֽי, lit. "for the way precipitates (falls headlong with violent speed) in front of me") (Num 22:32). 

I wrote several times over the summer that I found some of the Proverbs particularly challenging regarding these same ideas, but though I noted them, I didn't change my course. The riding was still the priority; everything else took a back seat. But thanks be to God that he instructs sinners in the way (Ps 25:8), that the same God who sought out Adam in the garden, asking gently "Where are you?" (Gen 3:8-9) and came down to oppose Balaam, also came to seek and save the lost (Lk 19:10). He came to me in such grace: not only did He get my attention through the very things that were turning my gaze away from Him, but He brought specific teachings of His word to mind that spoke in terms of ways, paths, and running with endurance, i.e., the very things that were distracting me. All of this to call me to run (or ride, as I like to think) with endurance in the straight paths He's set before me, to set my heart on the highways that really lead to life and beauty and meaning and purpose. He truly is Immanuel, God with us.

In the three weeks I went without riding other than a commute, my sentiment regarding riding every road in the county was like Balaam's "if it is evil in your sight, I will turn back" (Num 22:34). I was prepared to completely abandon the endeavor, but I think instead of that, God would have me proceed in the spirit of verse 35, "Go with the men, but speak only the word that I tell you" (cf. Num 22:20). I'm challenged by that to be more careful in what I write, to handle Scripture more faithfully, and not recklessly assume my zen-like insights are all true and worth spreading abroad. In the larger context of Balaam's situation, that meant speaking a word of blessing over the people of Israel instead of cursing, and that in keeping with the seminal promise God made to Abra(ha)m in Genesis 12:2-3, "I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great . . . I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse." I've been thinking for several months of how I might make the riding itself into more of a benefit to other people rather than just a way to stroke my cycling ego and gratify my urge to study maps. I want to use it to make a map of the county that classifies roads by bikeability and notes obstacles, hazards, and sites of interest to cyclists. It's time to take action on that. I'd even love for it to develop into a website that has a dynamic system of rating the roads, since they do change over time, and this endeavor to ride them all is going to take more time than originally thought as well.

I've been back on the bike twice this weekend, and I'm continuing to see God's hand in it all. More on that next time.

Beautiful Feet

While doing my laundry tonight I realized another reminder of Hebrews 12 from my ride and crash Saturday. I was wearing these socks:

They say "Run with Endurance the race marked out for you". They were made in memory of Adam Little, who was tragically killed while riding to work in Charlotte last year. He was a believer, and like Abel, "through his faith, though he died, he still speaks" (Hebrews 11:4). I didn't know him, but after his death the local cycling community was grief-stricken; he was loved by all who knew him.

I see all this, and connect the dots, but my heart faints. God has answered my prayer this week to show me my crooked ways that need to be made straight, and that has hurt and humbled me, but I feel weak and lazy and my heart is distracted with temporal things and dispassionate toward the invisible things of God.


Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the enemy. (Psalm 61:1-3)

The Crooked Shall Become Strait

Yesterday I had a bicycle accident that put me in the emergency room for a few hours. That was a first. (Now that I think of it, I went to an urgent care facility in the sixth grade when I unsuccessfully tried to navigate a sandy corner in front of my parents' house without touching the brakes.) Anyways, this accident had some peculiar circumstances to it that I've not quite figured out yet, so hopefully I'll figure out something as I tell you about it. Kind of like this from Augustine:

"I count myself one of the number of those who write as they learn and learn as they write." -from a letter To Marcellinus

In my last post, I wrote some about the intriguing appearance of threes in the stats of my most significant rides in the past month or so, and that such numeric oddities cause me to ponder God's working in my life. Here they are again, briefly:

• 24 hours of Booty 7/29-30. I reached 333.3 km at 12 hours 12 minutes ride time. 
• group ride 8/6: accident that cracked my frame happened 60 hours before I turned 33 years old
• 8/23: ride from Charlotte after dropping phone: 3:00:00 ride time, 3:33:03 elapsed time after 2 stops
• 9/4: rode every road in Tega Cay: 99.93 miles. Sold a bike before leaving for $333.83.

After I wrote the other night, I read Stephen Furtick's comments about how perception and expectation affect experience and how we interpret it, and  I started to think I'm only making a big deal of these things because I'm looking for them. That may yet be true, but after yesterday's accident, I'm less inclined to think it's just my (mistaken) perception. As I sat waiting in the ER, I realized I was 33 years and 33 days old. There's more though . . .

Last Sunday, when John and I rode every road in Tega Cay, I was pondering part of the sermon text from morning worship.

the voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,’” (Mark 1:3, quoting Isaiah 40)

This stood out to me particularly because the day's ride route was not straight. As I thought, I remembered what comes after the words above in Isaiah 40:

Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level (or "the crooked shall become straight" Luke 3:5)
and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.” (Isaiah 40:3-5)

How shall the uneven ground become level, and the crooked ways straight, but by God coming to walk in them? Even the way of the crooked foolish sluggard, full of "thorns" and wandering aimlessly  (Proverbs 15:19; 22:5; Ecclesiastes 10:15), terms which at times have seemed to describe my summer, sounds a lot like what Jesus experienced in his humiliation: born in a barn, driven as a refugee to a foreign land as a toddler; prepared for his time as a teacher in the wilderness with the devil and wild beasts for company; often had to avoid towns or flee from them during his ministry (Mark 1:45 Luke 4:29); when he did head straight toward Jerusalem, encountered opposition (Luke 9:51ff.), and when he got there, he was rejected and executed as a cursed man outside the city (Hebrews 13:12; Galatians 3:13), and on his "way out" of this world (Luke 9:31), all he could see was thorns (Matthew 27:29).

God with us in Jesus is also the answer to the frustrating feeling of undergoing God's discipline, because our elder brother has gone through it first:

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?
“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
nor be weary when reproved by him.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and chastises every son whom he receives.”
It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:3-11)

For the moment it seems painful . . . amen to that. But in these painful experiences of God consuming like a moth what is dear to me (Psalm 39:11), God is treating me like a son, even like His only begotten Son, who lost everything in the path of obedience to the Father: he had no home, lived off donations, his friends and family abandoned him, his last possessions were divided up as he died on the cross. Why should I expect otherwise in walking his path? And why would I want otherwise?

The exhortation linked to this is very pertinent, and brings the theme back around to the idea of "straight paths":

Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed. (Hebrews 12:12-13)

I'm still working through what crookedness I need to make straight, but isn't it interesting that I crashed on a rough patch of pavement on Strait Rd?

A few months ago, I mentioned the Heidelberg catechism question 1 as something that expresses my hope when I venture out on hostile roads, and said

Without the will of my heavenly father not a hair can fall from my head. Those cars can't touch me unless God lets them, and that to serve my salvation and everlasting joy. I believe this because God has said it, and because it really does correspond to my experience. I've seen His deliverances on the road and in the circumstances of my life. I can't explain how I've been spared and guided any better way.

No cars touched me this time, but I can't escape the belief that God let me fall but spared me serious injury. So this morning at church, when to my pleasant surprise we recited question 1 of the Heidelberg Catechism, I made it about as far as "I, with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own . . ." before I was too choked up to speak. But I've never believed it more than I do now. 

"The Numbers Fell off the Clockface..."

In my last post I wrote about how I sensed the Lord's discipline in frustrations with my bike in the past few months. What tipped me off to the notion that there was some particular divine purpose in it all were some conspicuous numbers. Conspicuous to me anyway. Augustine said,

"The Divine Wisdom is reflected in the numbers impressed on all things. The construction of the physical and moral world is based on eternal numbers." -Apparently in a commentary on the Psalms 

As one who sees numbers spatially, and who believes that God communicates directly and deeply with the spirits of his children, I have a theory that sometimes God intervenes in my life, and perhaps in the world in general, in numerically significant patterns.


Anyways, what caught my attention was the realization that the accident that broke my bicycle frame happened 60 hours to the minute before I turned 33 years old. It was 8:46 AM on Saturday August 6, and I was born at 8:46 PM on August 8. What does 60 hours mean? Nothing in and of itself, but considering the numerical significance of the circumstances surrounding my acquiring the bike to begin with made me start to wonder.  The timing of my "pro contract" with Paul has set the number 33 in my mind for most of the year, and it keeps popping up in peculiar ways, even in the past month of cycling, which has largely been frustrating for me. Consider these numbers from four of my biggest rides of the past month:

• At 24 hours of booty, I passed 333.3 km 12 hours 12 minutes into riding, and considered stopping, but continued on to finish with 13 hours 88 seconds, with an average heart rate of 130 and 13th place on the hill climb section (now that I'm writing this I've dropped to 26th place and am one second behind the fastest woman. Interesting). I'm not superstitious about the number 13, but that's weird. 
• The crash on August 6 occurred exactly 60 hours before I turned 33.
• The ride back from a meeting with a close friend and valued counselor the day I dropped my phone on Cherry Rd (yet another frustration) was exactly 3:00:00 of ride time and 3:33:03 elapsed time, after stopping for a drink and a new cell phone. I'm not making that up and it was unplanned and unknown by me until I uploaded the ride data from the Garmin.  
• The ride of Tega Cay this past Sunday turned out to be 99.93 miles. The planned route was just under 98 miles, but that changed when we ran out of fluid (twice; Tega Cay has no gas stations), took a wrong turn or two, re-did a road or two, I forgot to turn the GPS on after stopping, John had to get back home and we couldn't stop for dinner, and I decided not to carry on past 100 miles when I neared the house and realized I was a few hundred feet short. I wasn't sure how much I needed since I was reading kilometers on the Garmin. And another thing I almost forgot. When I met John at the bike shop, a customer came in, we told him we weren't really open, but he asked if he could buy a bike, and the price after tax was $333.83.

What does all of this mean? I'm not sure, but as I look back and remember what was going on in my spirit on each of these rides, the numbers correspond quite well. 

• on the booty ride I was frustrated, impatient, and self-absorbed (even moreso than I am all the time:-), greedy for miles. Somewhat pleased with the ride, but not joyful.  
• on August 6 I was tired from long work hours, encouraged to be riding after a week off, but after the crash despondent, though starting to wonder if all my frustrations were more than coincidence
• the day I dropped my phone seemed to encapsulate all of the emotions of this month in one ride. When I started I was running late, frustrated, angry; how I felt at the booty ride. When I dropped my phone I was apprehensive and a little scared since I was riding on an iffy tire on strange roads, but also starting to laugh at yet another material possession falling apart. After meeting with my friend I was hopeful, encouraged, determined to follow through on the day's riding goal and with new optimism for life in general. It was a turning point of sorts, and all the 3s made me smile when I reviewed the ride data.
• On Sunday I was excited, looking forward to the ride for the physical and geographical challenge (some of the routes through the neighborhoods were rather serpentine), and anticipating a big haul of elevation for the Strava climbing competition. That and John is one of my favorite people to ride with. He keeps it real. The verse from Mark 1 also was looming in my mind, and I was looking forward to pondering the straight paths of the Lord as we wound our way through some very crooked and steep roads. God gave fresh insight into his word, and plenty of strength for one of the hardest rides I've ever done, and by the end of the eight hours of riding, the frustrations seemed to make sense and there was a sense of resolution and completion.  

The Scriptural insight will have to wait for another post, but I think the gist of what I'm learning (or re-learning, as is often the case) is that the cracked frames, dropped phones, long miles in sweltering heat with not enough water, unrecorded riding miles, and unfinished centuries of life (read into those metaphors what most disappoints and irks you) are all part of the way God makes His children like their big brother. If that makes no sense to you, here's some food for thought. I'll try to explain more next time I write.  


And here's a song that's also been on my mind this year with all these thoughts about threes, followed by pictures of my latest progress on the roads of York County. "three thirty three, and the numbers fell off the clockface...". More on that here and here. 


Rides with new roads in August:

 Rides with new roads in July and August:

End of August year to date (roads ridden are in red): 

Prayer Answered by Crosses

So I rode my bike 100 miles today, and as usual after such a mammoth effort, I feel compelled to stay up late and write instead of crashing hard like my body is telling me to do.

As I went, I was thinking about the ride at hand, an effort to ride every road in the very hilly lakeside town of Tega Cay, SC, and a verse from the sermon text at church this morning:

"the voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight,’” (Mark 1:3 ESV)

"Yikes. Should I abandon this crazy ride route in favor of something more flat and straight?" "Is God telling me to abandon my goal of riding every road in the county this year?" Such questions plague my guilty conscience, especially since I've been struggling with pessimistic thoughts about riding and writing for a good part of the summer, as I've run into so many obstacles in my endeavors. When I first started in the spring, it seemed that God was smiling on the whole deal, but about the same time I sensed my countenance falling with the end of lengthening days, it seemed He wasn't pleased with much of anything I was doing, particularly my cycling endeavors. Texts like these seemed to condemn me:

Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread,
but he who follows worthless pursuits lacks sense. (Proverbs 12:11 ESV)

The way of a sluggard is like a hedge of thorns,
but the path of the upright is a level highway. (Proverbs 15:19 ESV) 

The latter because everything connected with my riding seemed to be falling apart: my computer was acting more sluggish than normal (not that normal for a six-year old laptop is fast), and my attempt to streamline the process of uploading rides, as well as testing the battery life of the Garmin, backfired, including completely losing my best week of rides in July, and wasting $200 on a poor decision to have mycleanpc.com try to fix it. Then I realized I was broke and couldn't afford that anyway, along with other purchases or promises I'd been making with money I didn't have. This was largely due to working shorter hours in the spring and early summer to free up more time for riding and writing (thus the first verse above cut to the heart). Preparation for my second biggest riding goal of the year, the 24 hours of booty, didn't go according to plan, and I didn't come close to surpassing my ride from last year.


I took a week off after that, and my first ride back I was hit from behind by the most skilled rider I know while we were coasting and regrouping at an intersection. It was a total fluke, so much so that I couldn't be mad about it, and coupled with the previous frustrations, only sunk lower. I felt like Cain, whose countenance fell when the Lord had no regard for his offering, or like Jeremiah, who said "surely against me he turns his hand again and again the whole day long.", or even John Newton, who wrote:

He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow’rs of hell
Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.   from "Prayer Answered by Crosses"

Perhaps it seems silly to put so much weight into what's going on with my bike, and surely there are people right around me carrying much heavier burdens, but since it's an outgrowth of my profession, and in some ways almost a means of grace to me, and for several months this spring seemed to be enjoying conspicuous favor from God and man, maybe it's not so unreasonable that I've been disappointed.

Amazingly, the friend who hit me insisted on paying for the repair, which turned out to be as expensive as a new frame, so I took that route. I'm appreciative, but also uncomfortable with it; it's humbling, even humiliating, to receive like that.


In any case, the cracked frame led to another week and a half off the bike, and on the first ride back, the speedway team time trial, the seatpost slipped down, apparently due to a crack, and all I can figure is that the crash caused it too. Then I discovered a cut in otherwise good Michelin Krylion tires, which aren't cheap. What is going on here? Can I just make it a week or two without something on the bike falling apart so that I have to drop time and cash into fixing it? Light started to dawn with this:

I am mute; I do not open my mouth,
for it is you who have done it.
Remove your stroke from me;
I am spent by the hostility of your hand.
When you discipline a man
with rebukes for sin,
you consume like a moth what is dear to him;
surely all mankind is a mere breath! (Psalm 39:9-11 ESV)

Key word started. All of this is the reason I've not written for a month: I've felt opposed by God. What is there to say in such a state? Not much in my mind.   But I'm here writing, and that means something has changed, and it's related to these things as well as the text from the sermon mentioned above that was ringing in my ears as I rode today. More on that later . . .  

Standing Together or Falling Apart?

We saw a good street sign today, and I couldn't resist stopping for a group picture:

From July 28, 2011

Yep, we're doing what the sign says. I guess I could've picked a better angle for the picture.

It was fitting to see this sign along the route today, because for the past month, I've been falling apart. Not that there haven't been bright moments, but in general, I've been lonely, depressed, angry, avoiding community, and experiencing something of

Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire;

he breaks out against all sound judgment. (Proverbs 18:1)

and needing to hear this warning:

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, 25 not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Hebrews 10)

In Greek, that's all one sentence (actually the latter half of one that starts in v. 19), the import of which is to suggest that "neglecting to meet together" is but a symptom of not "holding fast the confession of our hope" and not "considering one another unto the provoking of love and good works" (v. 25 literal). Thus the strong warning that follows

For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, 27 but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.

There are no explicit New Testament commands telling believers to gather together; it's everywhere assumed they will and do, but when some are drifting in the habit of neglecting fellowship, it's addressed in the strongest terms. It demonstrates an abandonment of hope in the gospel (and attendant apathy for the people of God), for which the alternative expectation is fiery judgment. "Falling apart" is no overstatement.

This makes me all the more thankful for two new forms of fellowship I enjoyed today. The first was meeting to speak and listen to the Word with John Croom and Randy Deas (they're in the middle of the picture below), and the second was meeting with some beautiful people who are part of Remedy Church in the evening for Bible study, prayer, and accountability. It's amazing how powerful God is to speak through such simple and seemingly mundane means.

In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit. (Ephesians 2:22)

From July 28, 2011