In my last post, I covered my mountain biking experience on Thanksgiving morning.
After that, I ate. And I ate. And then ate some more. And guess what, there was still more eating.
So by Black Friday, I was a stuffed pig. I decided to just chill out and do nothing.
I didn't get out of bed until around 9:30AM. I moped around for a bit, probably scratching myself here and there. Of course, I was hungry again, so after washing my hands, I opened the fridge to pick through the leftovers. I ate, and ate, and ate...
Sometime later, I changed out of my pajamas and then plopped down to watch the Huskers play Iowa. That game was probably equally frustrating for Nebraska fans as it was for Iowa.
I only got up on my feet once, when the Huskers called that play in which Rex Burkhead carried the entire State of Iowa for eight yards. That was awesome.
But the game made me sleepy. Then I got grumpy because I wasn't wearing my pajamas anymore and couldn't go back to bed without changing again. Instead, I napped on the couch. I woke up with a headache a couple of hours later.
I got up. Drank a glass of water, opened the fridge and started picking through the left-left overs.
By the end of Friday, I felt gross. I was sick in the head, and a little sick to my stomach, too. Even though I never left the house that day, I was wiped out: mentally, physically, emotionally.
I didn't feel better until I went for a second round of mountain biking on Saturday with Shim, James and Rebecca Swanson. We rode four laps, three fast, and one really fast. Afterward, though my body was physically tired, I felt totally refreshed and invigorated.
As I drove home, I reflected on how over the past 72 hours, I experienced a roller coaster ride of mountain biking highs and turkey-coma lows. Mostly, it was all self-inflicted by how much activity I had/hadn't applied. The revelation was an epiphany.
So on Sunday, I decided to carry the activity experiment to church. When it was time to stand and for the Worship and Praise, I stood and gave praise. I didn't hold back either. I clapped and sang like I never sang before. I felt a little hot under the collar at first. But soon, the inhibitions went away and I was thanking God for all my worth.
Our pastor then preached from Psalm 103. For those unfamiliar with the passage, the psalmist David, having just lamented over the pits and despairs of his life in Psalm 102, was now praising the Lord with all his soul in Ps 103:
Praise the Lord, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits--
who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
Suddenly, my silly little ups and downs was lining up with the Word of God.
Real, or merely a coincidence? And would God use a mountain bike to illustrate this point to me?
I am a believer.
Not only that, but I bet Jesus is a mountain biker, too. In his stable of bikes, he prefers a mountain bike over all the rest.
And I bet he can tail whip like none other.
Can somebody give JC a big shout for mountain biking? Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!