Crossing Mountains

It’s interesting the things I’ve learned about myself these past couple years. For instance, as much as I complained about Tim’s do-it-yourself obsession, I now find myself searching the Internet for instructions on how to fix things myself. I’ve discovered there’s a YouTube video to show you how to do just about everything. And I’m proud to say, if I carefully follow the directions, I can do just about anything.
My greatest achievement so far has been learning to ride a motorcycle. Of all the things Tim and I did together, riding was something we both passionately loved. So after taking a short riding course, I had my license.

At first I only took few short trips close to home. Then I got enough nerve to venture out with our friends on the flat, mostly straight roads in and around Orlando. But apprehension overcame me at the thought of joining those friends on their annual trip to the North Carolina Mountains.

Determined to live well regardless of my circumstances, I chose to not let fear hold me back.
But staring out the window as we towed the bikes up those last few miles of mountain roads to our destination, I began to second-guess my decision. Every twist and turn of the road became an obstacle course I couldn’t see myself surviving.
After a restless nights sleep, with my heart pounding, I sat down on the bike. The wet road and falling leaves added on another obstacle.

But when I pressed the start key and the rumble of my engine joined the chorus of the others, I felt a thrill. A new level of determination burned inside me. There was no way I was going to let fear stop me from doing what I love.
I whispered a quick prayer, “God keep me focused, smart, and alert.” Then I eased out the clutch and pulled into the middle of the line of riders.

 

Now, I wouldn’t call myself a great motorcycle rider. And I’ll never know how slow the guys took those turns for me. But I do know this; I crossed two types of mountains that day. And the one I crossed inside will carry me over many more ahead.
So much has to be rebuilt when we lose a loved one. And sometimes we have to overcome a physical fear to convince ourselves we can overcome the emotional ones. I’ve crossed both of mine on a motorcycle. And in an odd sort of way, I felt Tim was along for the ride.

And for that I thank the God who made me and those North Carolina Mountains.

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