Slow and Steady

August 19, 2019

Slow and Steady

“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” *

When I was a child, our grandfather used to accompany us on camping trips, rock-hunting adventures and hikes in the mountains. I especially remember his telling us kids that it was best to keep a slow, steady pace on steep mountain trails. We didn’t listen much, but would run right by him. It wouldn’t be long, however before he’d pass by us as we sat on rocks or tree stumps panting.

Grandpa Fred wouldn’t say anything at those times; but rather would keep on walking, with an “I told you so” expression on his face. I thought of grandpa’s advice during a 22-mile bike ride and fund raiser in which we participated last Saturday morning. This was the second year we had participated in the ride. Still, twenty-two miles would be a stretch for me.

Before the ride, I met a man named Paul who said that he showed up at most of the organized rides with tools to help fix the bikes that broke down along the route. This was done voluntarily, at his own expense.

Paul called himself a “sweep” because he would ride behind the group, looking for people who needed help. I told him to keep an eye out for me just in case I ended up on the ground. However, he said that he didn’t carry a gurney! As it turned out, he went with the riders that were going down to the Detroit river, making a 44-mile loop.

This year, the group of about 80 cyclists stayed close together keeping a fairly fast pace. Al was kind enough to ride with me most of the time, even though he could have been up at the front. No matter how hard I pedaled or maneuvered to pass people, I stayed at the back of the pack, riding just ahead of the sweep.

To complicate matters, the gears on my bike became stuck in a gear that had more resistance and I had to push harder on the pedals with my tired old legs. Where was that Paul when I needed him?

Grandpa’s words of ‘slow and steady’ came back to me in the midst of complaining to myself. Slow was easy; steady was harder. But as I tried to focus on his advice, my negative attitude began to change. Breathing helped too. Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale.

The volunteer who was the sweep chatted with me as we rode along. We were nearing the 22-mile mark, when I hit a bump in the road that knocked off my water bottle. She did her job well and stopped, while I circled around to pick it up. The rest of the group completely disappeared from sight, eager to get back to the Ferndale City Hall where we had begun the ride.

It was a great feeling when we joined the others at the city hall. Many people said that Al and I inspired them. That was a surprise! Inspiring? I was just trying to survive.

The image of my white-haired grandpa with his old felt hat and hiking stick came to mind. Well, Al and I are now older than he was during my early teen years. One lady even wanted to take our picture.

“Do you mind me asking how old you are?” she queried.

“Almost seventy-two,” I answered, struggling with the desire to hide my age. “I’m not sure how I got here. One breath at a time, I guess.”

She shared that she was fifty-four years old, trying to recover from cancer surgery last spring. That was why she wasn’t able to ride with us. Her own journey…not easy.

“It’s just life!” she exclaimed and we both laughed.

“Well, maybe you’ll join us next year.” I replied.

May we follow the apostle Paul’s example of perseverance, who desired to “press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus has taken hold of me.” He went on to say, “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal...” *

Slow and steady! Pressing on, one pedal, one breath, one step, one prayer at a time. Help us persevere oh Lord, in the name of Jesus. Amen.

*Philippians 3:12b-15 NIV