Thanks for a soft landing
“Aim at Heaven and you will get Earth thrown in. Aim at Earth and
you get neither.”
-- C.S. LEWIS
I’m writing this on the morning of my birthday. I’m tired, a
little beaten up and bruised and, frankly, I wanted to sleep in this
morning. My body and soul could use it because I’ve had trouble
sleeping and I’m hurting.
I was in a bike crash last weekend. In some ways, it was a small
crash. I’ve seen big crashes, where people end up with broken bones
or worse and I’ve thanked God many times that that didn’t happen to
me.
I always wear a helmet, I know the rules of the road. I also know
tips to try once it’s clear that my body and bike are going down.
But in another way, it was a big crash, because I hit the ground
pretty hard. I’m oozing and bruising and it will take time, and a lot
of ice, to recover.
I actually laughed when I hit the dirt, because I knew I looked
ridiculous. One minute I was up, happily biking, enjoying the beauty
of the day and the fun of being with daughter Kelly, husband Jon and
other great people. Then in a split second, my clean bike and body
were a mess.
The other reason I laughed was that God allowed me to land in soft
dirt instead of cactus, sharp rocks or another undesirable. The
trails are marked periodically with droppings of horses, coyotes and
other animals.
I felt I could hear the tenderness of God’s voice saying, “I love
you Cindy, please calm down and let me take care of you. Don’t try to
take care of everybody else.”
The message was as clear as I was dirty. I thought about lying in
the dirt for awhile, but I didn’t want to get lost. Despite my fall,
the ride was worthwhile because it was a fund-raiser for a meaningful
cause.
I’m writing before sunrise and I’m glad you can’t see me dressed
in a big fuzzy bathrobe that covers multiple ice bags. Last night I
slept awhile, but then woke up suddenly. Unfortunately my mind woke
up too and even though our bedroom was dark and cozy and my husband
was sleeping silently, my brain became noisy. I asked God to lasso
and corral my racing thoughts and help me to sleep.
Sometime after that I had a dream that was so real I felt like I
actually talked with my grandfather. Pop was the sweetest, kindest,
most gentle grandfather a little girl could hope for. Many of you
knew him too; his name was Byron Farwell. He’d stop everything the
minute I appeared at my grandparents’ home.
My grandmother was wonderful, always happy to see me, but it was
Pop in my dream. He hugged me, and we sat and talked for a long time.
He never looked at his watch; he enjoyed being with me. He made me
laugh, he made me feel special and he made me feel safe.
I’m thankful for soft dirt and no broken bones. I’m thankful too
for who God is, who Pop was, and for the many special people God has
placed in our lives. And you can quote me on that.
* CINDY TRANE CHRISTESON is a Newport Beach resident who speaks
frequently to parenting groups. She may be reached via e-mail at
cindy@onthegrow.com or through the mail at P.O. Box 6140-No. 505,
Newport Beach, CA 92658.
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