Listen to the still small voice, listen listen...

That song has been playing in my head this morning. Why? Because on Saturday morning, going against my better judgment and ignoring any premonitions I had about the ride, I went on a bike ride. It's not the bike riding itself that was the problem--I'm by no means an experienced biker, but I enjoy a ride now and again. It was the trail, the Bobsled. I knew I should not have gone, and yet I decided to ignore that still, small voice and go anyway. And now I'm hurting.



Part way down the trail, after a little rest, I had a bad feeling. I prayed. My prayer was something like, "Father in Heaven, I'm stuck. I can't go back the way I came. The only way out of here is down. I don't know what I'm doing. Please bless me that I won't die. Also, please bless me that I won't get seriously injured." And so I closed my prayer and began my descent.



A few minutes later I found myself sliding on the ground like I was sliding into home base. I don't know how I end up on the ground, but apparently I flew over my handlebars. My head was craned up, and I watched TC, who was ahead of me to mark the path, to see if he saw me sliding toward him.



TC threw his bike several feet off the narrow trail and ran to me. He knew exactly what to do. He took the shirt off his back to tie around my bleeding arm, and kept telling me that it wasn't that bad at all (an effort to keep me from completely losing control of my emotions). And it wasn't that bad. My elbows are scraped and the palms of my hands are in pretty bad shape (especially my right hand). My legs and stomach are bruised and have a few lesions. But I did not break any bones (no serious injuries), and I am sill alive (I did not die).



Lucky for us, our friend Jake was several minutes behind us. He caught up, saw that I was hurt and continued on to tell Jared and Sarah what had happened. TC and I walked the rest of the trail, and only had to jump out of the way once for fast riders coming down.




This trail is great for people who know what they are doing. Look how fun that turn looks. You can pick up some great speed.




These happy, serene flowers belie the adventure that lies in this trail. I thought this photo was pretty ironic.



From all this I'm grateful for so many things: for Jake and Jared who biked uphill for who knows how many miles to get the cars so they could take me home quickly, for Sarah who was waiting at the end of the trail for us and just cheered us on and was so quick to help me with my bike, for Jake who let us borrow these great jumbo-sized Band-aids and Neosporin (we owe you), and for Jared and Sarah who took care of our bikes so we wouldn't have to worry about them. I'm amazed at how great of a doctor TC is, and I'm grateful to have him to take care of me. He just knows what to do. Once we got home he cleaned up the wounds and wrapped them so they wouldn't bleed or get infected. Most of all he assured me that everything was going to be all right. And even though right now he is under a lot of pressure to finish writing his dissertation this week, he still takes the time to care for me, and change my bandages every morning. He's a wonderful man. I'm grateful to be reminded of how blessed I truly am.



P.S. I won't include any photos of the injuries because they are gross.
P.P.S. My advise to all my readers: listen to the still small voice.