A New Bike and Mansion in Glory by Jan Darnell

If you read my last blog, you know that my father passed away on September 27th of 2009. It was an exceptionally solemn occasion for our family and a heart breaking experience for me. My dad was my life mentor who challenged me, and everyone he met, to live passionately and love wholeheartedly. We reflected on this zealous attitude in his memorial service, with a number of people sharing stories regarding Dad’s ability to capture ordinary moments and turn them into opportunities for adventure. He was an extraordinary man and we are definitely the beneficiaries of his loving and fun ways.

Over the subsequent months, our family celebrated Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year of 2010 without Dad. His walking cane took its place by our family fireplace throughout the holidays as a silent, but wonderful reminder of his life. And in Atlanta, mother is putting her house up for sale. She is getting rid of the things that my parents worked all their lives to attain. The majority of these possessions must now be sold or given away, and though they have faded in importance, they stir up testimonies of eternal significance. Allow me to share an example of one such possession.

When I was five, Dad decided it was time for me to master my bicycle. We went to the top of a large grassy hill where he removed my training wheels, set me on the bike and turned me loose. With great confidence in my dad’s ability to teach me the right way, I proceeded down the hill, wobbling right and left, hitting numerous telephone poles along the way. The poles, of course, were crash sites that drew me like magnets into their path. After each perilous encounter, I would get back up and continue on as Dad cheered me on from afar. By the time I reached the bottom of that hill, both my bike and my appendages were scratched, tattered and embedded with dirt and grass stains. Yet, what a feeling of accomplishment! Under adverse conditions, amidst an obstacle course of poled conflict, I had finished the course. There’s nothing like a sense of accomplishment. Or perhaps there is… that smile of approval on my dad’s face. I experienced both that day.

I have never forgotten that incident, perhaps because it was traumatic, but I believe more so because my dad reflected an important truth to me. God loves us and wants the very best for us. He challenges us to grow by designing obstacle courses that cause us to mature in gifting and skill. We see it as terrifying. God sees it as transforming. On these courses, we are being transformed from glory to glory, back into His image, which is one of righteousness, wisdom, grace and skill. Adam and Eve traded away God’s image for the toxic knowledge of good and evil (Gen. 3). Now, we are given the challenge of learning the difference between good and evil, and choosing what is right (Deut. 30:19).

Along the way, we will be confronted by poles that seem to draw us. Not perfect, but being perfected, we usually suffer the bruises and scratches from colliding with these poles until learning to navigate the hills. Yet our heavenly Father is still proud of us when we trust His hand. Jesus taught in the parable of the talents that we exemplify faith by investing the abilities God has given us (Mt. 25:14-30). I trusted dad when he put me on that bike and turned me loose at five years of age. I trust God every day when He faithfully solicits the sunrise and turns me loose to face the challenges of life’s magnetic obstacles. What will the day be like? How many poles will be there? Will I crash and burn on site or know the sweetness of His victory in moving forward? David sang, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Ps. 118:24). Whatever the day brings, our heavenly Father is watching with anticipation over a divinely designed transformation process for each of us. He smiles at our faith and willingness to learn of His goodness.

My dad bought me a new bike that afternoon because the previous one was bent and mangled. Scripturally speaking, our Father plans to restore our lives in much the same way. My earthly father bought me a new bike. My heavenly Father has on reserve an eternal inheritance in the Kingdom of God and a redeemed citizenship for me in the forthcoming Jerusalem. While I can’t possibly fathom the details of what that will entail entirely, I can operate in the realm of where He has me currently and do the best with what I have. The same is true for you too. Your heavenly Father has released you to navigate through each and every day with your gifting and abilities, learning from the mistakes and getting up to try again. May you be blessed as you live the “day that the Lord has made” for the glory of our heavenly Father. You have a new bike waiting at the end of the course. In Christ, you have a mansion in glory! (John 14:1-3)