There are a few things that make a girl go “That’s MY man!” And Ty does something that never fails to cause that response in me. Now I know for all of you who do ride motorcycles, that it is something that comes second nature, but for us newbies it can be rather impressive.
Ty rides a 1995 Harley Road King. It is a big bike, 900 pounds of steel and chrome, over half a ton when you add our two bodies, and he usually maneuvers it all with the subtlest shift of his hips. A movement that cannot be detected with the naked eye, but has guided us through traffic, curves, and rain without fail.
The other night as we rode, we hit a rough patch of road and I could feel as he efficiently and elegantly responded to the demands of the situation. I could feel how his muscles worked with and against the bike, keeping us upright seemingly without strain or duress. I, on the other hand, fought the overwhelming urge to grip those love handles in white knuckled terror. As I choked back a shriek, he laughed and said “That was fun.” (I hope to God that was sarcasm, because from my seat, it did not remotely resemble anything called fun.)
It was all over in a matter of seconds, and my dear husband never broke a sweat. The only clue I had that he was even aware of the situation was the way his body swayed to the interplay of the road and the bike. A part of me wanted to chastise him for being so calm, so cavalier about his wife’s safety, but the sheer truth of the matter was he got us through it unscathed.
My walk with God is like that. He is up in front and seems completely unruffled by circumstance. He doesn’t make a big commotion about getting things done. Everything is handled in subtleties, efficiently and elegantly. Subtleties I miss if I am not close enough to feel the slight sway of his spirit as he maneuvers me through this life.
And just like with Ty, I find myself wanting to scream out in panic, demand to know why he is so calm when everything is so threatening. I want to see more action. I want to see him be a little more proactive and really show that he is dealing with the problem, but rarely does he do things my way. He calmly sways with and against circumstance, and occasionally laughs over his shoulder, “That was fun.”
It is easy to forget, that he will get me through unscathed if I am able to keep myself in check. If I can resist the urge to reach past him and try to steer myself. I have to trust that even when it doesn’t look like he is doing anything, he really is, and he never fails to respond to the needs of a situation. Riding with Ty has reminded me that I need to stop trying to control and learn to be responsive to how God is leading. And just like my husband, God probably isn’t going to draw much attention to what he is doing, so if I don’t want to miss it I need to be alert to the subtle shifts.
And sometimes, I just need to stop and think about what he is really doing. How all those little motions mean that the world has moved, not just a bike, the world. Lives are changed and destinies determined with a slight sway, and I need to sit back and experience the awe again. The awe that makes a girl go, “That’s MY God.”
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