A Biking Accident and God

A couple days ago, I had an embarrassing moment: I fell off my bike.  Well, it was more than a ‘fall’ – it was more like a ‘crash, tumble, flip and skid’ off my bike.  No serious injuries; however, I did get a couple of pretty gross cuts and bruises – which in a week or so will make for some pretty “badass” scars (according to one of the amazing  bikers who stopped to help me.)

Once I got my wits about me, I had about a mile ride back to my car.  During that mile ride, I had a God-moment.  As I passed other trail blazers, I smiled and nodded, and even beamed a cheerful ‘Good morning!’ But the truth; the reality: I was hurting and close to tears; wounds exposed, tender, and burning.

Here is the God-moment.  As I was riding, I wondered how many time I pass people who, on the outside, look like everything is fine, like everything is perfect.  But on the inside, they are hurting and close to tears; their heartaches and wounds tender and exposed.  

The two anonymous ‘Angelic Bikers’ could have just kept going.  They were already 200+ feet ahead of me when they heard me crash, tumble, flip and skid.  But they didn’t.  They saw someone in need and turned around to help.  The gentlemen pickup my bike and check for damage.  The woman gently reached her hand down to me and helped me up.  She wasn’t concerned about inconvenience or communicable diseases.  She was concerned about me. 

How many times have we comforted by the simple smile or touch of kind stranger, the embrace of a child, or an encouraging, heartfelt conversation of a long-distance friend?   How many times have I comforted someone I didn’t know with a simple smile or touch?  How many times have I reached down and hugged a crying child?  How many times have I offered a heartfelt, encouraging conversation to a long-distance friend?

I’m convinced that simple acts of kindness do not go unnoticed, and are appreciated.  We may not see the gratefulness right away.  We may never be thanked.  Over time, we may not even remember who it was that we helped.  But every time I glance down at my soon-to-be scars from my bike crash-tumble-flip-skid, I remember my Good Samaritans, and smile. 

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Lord, help me to not be afraid of stepping out and comforting someone who needs it.  Help to not be afraid of asking for help when I truly need it.  Thank you for keeping me safe and that the injuries were not worse.  And thank you to those two bikers who came to my aid.  I may never know their names, but bless them.  AMEN