Acknowledge Him

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5 NASB

The idea of acknowledging God in all my ways has been popping into my mind, particularly when I head out the door.  On the way to visit my mom, I think, I acknowledge you, Lord.   I never know what kind of visit it will be.  But God does.  Or at the beginning of a day with the grandkids.  I acknowledge you, Lord.  It’s good to renew my trust and actually speak my dependence on God.

So it was, as Kent and I headed out for a bike ride last week, I thought, I acknowledge You as God in this bike-ride.  Bike-rides are also full of surprises.

The Tolt Pipeline trail was uncrowded, the gravel manageable, and the ride was unsullied by cars. We plunged down to Avondale Road and continued east a mile or so to Collin Creek trail. One benefit of following my husband is that by the time I hit a stretch of trail I know that he has already successfully navigated it. And so he had successfully navigated a particular left turn on Collin Creek that was a little sharper and a little steeper than the others.

But I took it wrong, braked too much and in the blink of an eye, I slammed into the hard ground on the left as my bike skidded right.  Oof. That hurt.  My shoulder took the brunt of it, I thought. But my hands were hurting and my left pants leg had a slight rip.

“That’s my one pair of pants!” I lamented to Kent, who had come back and was brushing dust off me. He nodded sympathetically and said, “It’s hard having only one pair of pants.” As he well knew, I have many pairs of pants, but this is the pair I actually wear. Tragic. Or perhaps not, as I see so many ripped and torn pants legs wandering the streets these days. An epidemic of bike accidents, I guess.

I was slow to get back on the bike.

“If you can get to the main road, I can go get the car,” Kent said. “I’m happy to do that.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” I said.

I walked my bike down the rest of the curve and got back on. We took a new trail – Kari’s Bog – that wound through Trilogy and came out on Novelty Hill Road. By then, the right hand was really painful, especially squeezing the brake.

We took a breather in a dusty turnout where the high voltage wires cross, and ate our peanut-butter sandwiches. Kent looked at me quizzically. “I’m happy to go get the car. What would you like to do?”

“The right hand hurts like the dickens, but I should be able to get home.” I really didn’t want to wimp out.

At that precise moment, Psalm 46 popped into my head, “Cease striving, and know that I am God.” It landed on my psyche as a gentle rebuke, but with it, joy that God had spoken.

Ok, I acknowledge you as God and I’ll accept help.  “Yes, please, bring back the car.”

Though relieved, I felt a little silly, parked by the side of the road, with traffic roaring by. But, there were the ubiquitous Himalayan blackberries. I filled our sandwich containers with them while waiting. It felt good to have the simple task to occupy me.

I love that God has things to say to me. His thoughts are truly higher than mine; His ways higher also.  Pausing to acknowledge God and listen, is a habit I’d like to solidify.  While I work on my biking skills (and they do need work), I’ll keep working on that.