From Rest and Renewal to Bumps and Bruises

Tom was the first one up, as usual, and brewed us a pot of Caribou coffee. Then, while the rest of us enjoyed a leisurely morning, sipping that coffee and eating Cinnabon rolls, he set off for his first bike ride around Pike Bay on the Migizi trail. (Since church doesn’t start until 10:45 here, we have lots of time on Sunday mornings.) Tom made it back safely, and as we left for church, it looked like we were going to make it on time.

Unfortunately, we didn’t anticipate a “check engine” light on the dashboard about a mile away from the resort. Playing it safe, we turned around and all hopped into Chloe’s car instead. And so, we were a little late for church.

At the Evangelical Free Church of Bemidji there was quite a crowd. It turns out, Pastor Jerry had just returned from a 3-month sabbatical. We always enjoy his messages and today was no exception, as he preached on the importance of “Rest and Renewal.” I thought back to my anxiety in getting ready for our vacation, concerned that I really wouldn’t be able to relax because of all “the things” I wanted to squeeze in! His message was a good reminder that God has given us the gift of physical rest and spiritual renewal for our own good. I’ll try to keep that in mind over the next two weeks!

The forecast said thunderstorms were coming, so we hustled to get things rolling for our annual picnic. In the end, there was no rain and the weather was quite pleasant. The food–pork chops, potato casserole, parsley bread, broccoli salad, baked beans, watermelon, roasted cauliflower, and brownie sundaes for dessert–was amazing as usual. This Sunday’s gang numbered 23.

After sitting and visiting most of the afternoon, it was time for some movement. Beth, Bill and I decided to take a short bike ride down a new path we had seen on our way to church along Hwy. 2. The path was smooth and clean and the temperature and breeze were perfect for an evening ride.

Then we turned the corner. We were on an older bike trail, but it was still decent. That is, until a big dog spotted us from his front yard. He ran toward us, barking loudly, just as we approached an intersection. As we raced to escape the dog, we were shocked to see a regular curb, about six inches tall, where there is usually a gentle slope making it easy for bikers to cross an intersection. Bump! Bump! Bump! The three of us rode over the curb, dropping down to the road with a jolt, the dog still close behind.

Before we had time to recover, we looked up and saw another curb on the other side. Going down over a curb was unsettling enough, but I knew going up a curb of that size on a road bike was downright dangerous, if not impossible. I yelled “Curb! Stopping!” On impulse, I turned to avoid the curb and slammed on my brakes to stop. Unfortunately, it all happened so fast, I was unable to disengage my shoe from the pedal clips. With no free foot to stop my fall, I went down.

Beth, who had somehow managed to jump the curb, and Bill who was on the road near me, stopped immediately to make sure I was okay and to help me up.

My Apple watch sensed my fall and started buzzing “SOS.” I hit the “I’m okay” response and then later, the “I fell, but I’m okay.” Thankfully, I was okay. Just a few minor scrapes and bruises.

But I hate falling. It shakes me up and fears creep in. I start to imagine all of the “What ifs?” What if I had been more severely injured? What if the dog decided to attack me as I lay there on the ground? What if next time I’m not able to hit the “I’m okay” response on my watch?

I want to ride for my health and yet doing so can put my health at risk. Riding brings me joy when I’m feeling strong and in control. But falling is frustrating, painful, and steals the joy from my ride. Losing control is the worst feeling ever.

And so, this beautiful Sunday that began with thoughts of rest and renewal and continued with a family feast and nicer-than-expected weather, ended with ice packs, ointment, and Tylenol.

Some days are like that. Even at the lake.