One day--when I was about eight, I suppose--I went out to the garage to get my bike. It was and old, blue Schwinn, a hand-me-down from my grandparent's children and my older brother. I loved the sparkly white banana seat-- it was the only part of the bike that felt girly to me. I picked up my bike and immediately noticed that my training wheels were gone. Gone?! How could I ride now? I can't go anywhere without training wheels. I can't balance! I've tried before and fallen over at least twice! I storm back inside and address the only person who could have done such a nasty thing-- my father. "Dad, why did you take my training wheels off?" I shouted. "Put them back on!" I'm pretty sure he replied, in typical dad-fashion, something like the following: "It's for your own good. You need to learn to ride without them." I was furious. I bet I bawled my eyes out, partly out of frustration and partly so that the tears would persuade Dad to put the wheels back on. |
What parallels can be drawn from this in our spiritual lives? You may never have learned to ride your bike without training wheels if your dad hadn't taken them off...and those same insecurities that you felt when you discovered your missing training wheels are present at times in life even still today... just a thought.