I’ve noticed nothing usually happens unless I go do something. Then something happens. Not always something BIG, but usually something interesting.
Case in point, I just got back from a relaxing bike ride. I needed the fresh air and not much was happening here at the ol’ apartment (except for school, and how fun is that?)
While biking through one neighborhood I came across three little boys riding their bikes up and down their street too. They were pretty excited to see another fellow cyclist and as I passed by they showed off some of their “tricks.” They could ride with no hands. They could ride standing with no hands. They could pull their back tires off the ground. They were good. It reminded me of when I was their age and spent countless hours practicing just such techniques.
It was an absolutely beautiful day… Cloudy, misty, cool.
Moving on with my story… later in my cycling adventure I found myself moseying through a lazy neighborhood with ponderous trees spanning the road. Moist leaves lightly falling across my path, it was quite idyllic. As I approached one particular intersection – VROOOM! this crazy SUV flies up behind me, screeching to a halt right before a stop sign. He got way too close for comfort though I had been keeping an eye on him and wasn’t in danger of getting hit.
“Watch it bud,” I thought, as I coasted through the neighborhood intersection minding my own business. Honk! Honk! The guy in the SUV was waving at me to come over to him. I rode back and saw he was a police officer in uniform. He wasn’t happy. I know this is an over generalization, but really, have you ever seen a happy police officer? I wondered what he wanted but didn’t have to wait long to find out. I got the second degree for not having come to a full, complete stop at the stop sign. Did I think I was exempt from traffic regulations just because I was on a bicycle? Did I WANT to get hit by a car? How would I feel if I WERE hit by a car? I appreciated his concern for my safety but felt he was blowing the situation out of proportion.
I felt like saying, “Look bud, let’s make a deal. You don’t run into me with your SUV and I won’t run into you with my bicycle. And please, quit driving like you own the entire road and we won’t have any more problems.” Of course I didn’t say that but rather just smiled and offered something to the effect, “You’re right, I probably wouldn’t enjoy you running into me with your car.”
He glowered and said he’d let me go this time with a warning. I was surprised he didn’t get on to me for not wearing a helmet or not having my bicycle registered. And my aging bike doesn’t shift into the low gears very well, that’s no doubt a violation too.
Anyways, as I again ambled on down the road, once more lost in contemplation, I thought about the difference between the young boys who were still excited about life and enamored with the wonder of their bicycles versus the gruff old officer who seemed low on joy and appreciativeness for the simple pleasures in life. Granted, he was concerned about my safety but honestly, I was paying attention and wasn’t bothering nobody. Look, I’ve been riding a bicycle my entire life and never once been hit by a car, or even came close. (only once have I ever ran into a car, driving with no hands and looking behind me hit a parked one)
Unfortunately, I’m afraid I often lean more toward having the attitude of the serious police officer instead of sharing the joyfulness of youth. I’ve been told I’m too serious.
Here’s what Jesus had to say about it: “And he said: ‘I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’” (Matthew 18:3)
So in conclusion, I went out and did something and something happened: I met some nice kids and got pulled over by a policeman.