Three reasons why I think that God rides a motorcycle.

I'm pretty sure that God rides a motorcycle.

This weekend, I accompanied a friend of mine on a 4-hour motorcycle ride through the beautiful Cascade Mountain Range. If you have never been on a motorcycle before, it's hard to describe the rush of adrenaline that kicks in when you hear the rumble of the motor kicking up. My heart instantly started beating faster with the anticipation of the wind surrounding me. As the passenger,  I climbed awkwardly onto the little back seat and we left the house. I was like a little kid going to Disneyland. My smile was smooshed by the tightness of the helmet, but it was ear to ear nonetheless.

We headed toward our destination, zipping -very responsibly, might I add- through traffic, finally hitting Highway 22 which winds through the Oregon countryside. As I held on (probably too tightly), I was immediately overwhelmed with peace. Despite the fact that we were going sixty miles per hour with nothing but a padded jacket and a helmet separating me from the asphalt, I was washed with a serene calmness. Alone with my thoughts, I realized that God probably rides a motorcycle, inviting us to be the passenger on a windy, but scenic, drive.

1) It can be kind of uncomfortable at first, but you get the hang of it.
It's hard to understand the feeling of a motorcycle until you hop on. The driver can give you all the necessary instructions on how to lean, where to sit, how to hold on, but until you actually make the commitment of saddling up, it's kind of a foreign concept. You hop on the bike and once it starts going, you can't just jump off. This is how I felt when learning about my faith. I had put on my helmet; I was sitting on the back seat, waiting for the Lord to lift the kickstand and take off; I was uncomfortably committed, holding on tightly, not knowing what to expect. But once you start going, it gets easier, more normal, and more comfortable. You learn how to hold on, how to listen for the rhythms of the driver shifting gears, how to sit relatively comfortably on the not-so-comfortable seat. You get the hang of it, but it doesn't come easily immediately.

2) You aren't driving, yet you have the power to crash the bike.
The first and MOST IMPORTANT lesson when getting on the back of the bike is to lean with the driver. In order for the physics of the bike to work, you have to lean where the driver leans. If you do not move with the driver, you have the power to cause a crash. God has a plan for us and He's leaning into His curves, His route, His calculated path, but unfortunately, we have the power to lean away and to crash the bike based on our stupid human decisions. After making it to our destination, my friend and I went to grab some dinner before meeting up with our larger group of friends. We pulled into a parking spot and as I went to get off the bike, my foot got caught. We almost toppled over, but thankfully my ah-mazing driver had solid footing and kept us upright despite my clumsiness. Our Heavenly driver can hold us up too when we falter.

3) You're able to view the world from a whole new perspective.
I have driven Highway 22 countless times, but never had I realized how turquoise the water is in the Santiam River. Never had I realized where the temperature outside changes as you drive into the pass. Never had I realized how easily you could spot bigfoot... Okay maybe I'm kidding on the bigfoot thing, but the point is that without the hindrance of the car walls and windows, I was able to view the beauty surrounding me in a completely different way. When was the last time that you took a second to see things from a new perspective? To take some uninterrupted time to view the beauty the He has created? When God rides his motorcycle with us as His passenger, we don't focus on the road, but on what we can see while He drives.


So yes, I think God rides a motorcycle and He's constantly inviting us to go on a beautifully scenic and awe-inspiring cruise with Him. It takes trust, and practice and courage, but the view is SO worth it.

Grab your helmet and hop on.

When you ask "What's next?"

"What's Next?"

You whisper under you breath.
Knowing that you would be the only one to hear those two little words.
When you get to a point of exasperated questioning.
You just don't know.
How do I fit?
Where is my path?
You inhale, with the weight of the future on your chest.
You exhale all the stress that led up to it.
It sinks in that you don't know.
You just don't know.
And in that moment, the fear of the unknown cripples you.
Your always-planned-out life is so far from where you thought it would be.
Not in a bad way, just not where you expected.
But you mutter those little words into the sky.

"What's Next?"

The chaos is palpable.
Thoughts bounce from one realm to the next.
You asked it into the unknown.
The words leave your lips and fear starts to bubble.
The anxiety hits.
'I don't know what's next,' you think to yourself.
But then you feel it.
You feel the calm of knowing that you are taken care of.
The peace of not knowing, and being okay with that.
With closed eyes.
Hands open to receive whatever is meant to come your way.
Whatever your higher power, the universe, or the winds of change move into your life.
You are ready to accept it.
Because you asked that little powerful question.

"What's Next?"

The fear is still there. The questions haven't disappeared.
But you know.
Next is unknown.
Next is malleable.
You know that in the moments of uncertainty, Next will show it's face.
It will open it's arms and embrace your discomfort.
It will give you safe refuge.
It might not be easy, but it will be worth it.
You realize that giving yourself up so wholly to the universe creates a vulnerability that you have never known.
A vulnerability that is equally terrifying and empowering.

"What's Next?"

Despite the fear, there is comfort.
Comfort in knowing that your open stance will bring to fruition an adventure like none you have ever experienced.
You breathe again.
Deeper.
Stronger.
More powerful.
The crippling fear turns into an elixir of excitement.
You savor the sweet buzz of what could be.
All because you had the courage to ask yourself.

"What's Next?"

Uh Oh... Your Humanness is showing.

I have this delusional idea that I am not human.

I’m not talking like Alien, Mutant, Wizard, etc. I’m talking about a perfect human. The one who does not make mistakes. The one who always has her ISH together. Believe it or not, I am not that special, crazy, awesome, perfect human, despite the fact that I hold myself to that standard.

The other day, I was sitting at brunch with a group of my favorite people, talking to a friend who had left her keys at my house the night before. She turned to me and asked for her keys (which I was supposed to bring). I froze. I think my jaw literally dropped. My heart stopped... and then proceeded to speed up ridiculously fast. My palms got sweaty. I began apologizing incessantly. I had forgotten her keys and we were a half an hour away from my apartment. How could I have done something so stupid?! My mind started to freak out; You're a horrible friend; You literally had one thing to remember; You drove all the way out here to bring her the keys. It kept going in my head, criticizing my forgetfulness, but let’s pause for some back story…

You see, I suffer from the desire to appear perfect. I don’t necessarily want to BE perfect (because let’s be honest, that’s impossible and my bedroom will always be an explosion of chaos), but I want others to think I am as close as possible. I would blame social media but it started long before my addiction to Facebook, Instagram and Blogger. In high school, I thoroughly enjoyed being the goody two shoes, the Susie-High-School, and the student body leader. I enjoyed the challenge. My ENFJ personality type thrived on human interaction and helping others, and soon developed into the aspiration of being a role model. You might be thinking, it’s not a bad thing to want to be a good influence, and you’d be right, however, the desire to want to be a ‘perfect role model’ can be an unrealistic expectation to set upon someone, especially yourself!

My idea of perfection wasn’t in straight A’s, or in my appearance or by having a super hot boyfriend, but in the way I helped people. I wanted to be the perfect helper. So I tried to be that perfect helper. I offered to help friends move. I took care of all the girls whose hearts had been broken. I picked up the drunk party-goers from the bar at 2:30am. I gave advice to the friend-zoned guy on the bus. I offered hugs to anyone who needed them. I did these things because I genuinely wanted to help and wanted to give love to those around me. But somehow in the midst of caring for all of my surrounding humans, I felt the pressure rise and lead by example without taking care of myself. I gave help but refused to take help. I wanted to be the strong, independent woman, or human in general, that I was encouraging everyone else to be. I started holding myself to an unrealistic standard of strength and independence.

Hence my need for ‘perfection’.

Now, let’s come back to the brunch story.

As my internal insult attack streamed and my verbal apology mutterings continued, one of the guys at our table turned to me and said something that totally shook me.

"Uh oh... Your humanness is showing." The sarcasm was thick with this one, but the message was loud and clear.

The mental self-attack stopped right away. My mind clicked, almost audibly. Um hello, perspective. Newsflash sweetheart, you’re human. You’re not perfect.

Why do we do this to ourselves?! My instant reaction to belittle myself for a simple honest mistake was something familiar to me. What wasn't normal was the reality check of a simple sarcastic comment.

This little epiphany has been following me around like the little voice in the back of my head…which got me thinking… and that is always a dangerous thing.

We are humans. We forget the car keys. We say the wrong things. We accidentally cuss in front of a child. We make questionable life decisions. We make straight-up BAD life decisions. We let our humanness show. The beauty is that we are all human. Unless you’re incredibly original and off-the-wall, the majority of humans around you have made a similar mistake, if not the same exact one. Most people wouldn’t hold you to a perfect standard, so why do it to yourself?!

So in the midst of our humanness, cut yourself some slack. Shake it off cowgirl. Rub some dirt on it and move on because Hell hasn’t frozen over. The world is still turning.

Sometimes, we just need new eyes to realize that an honest mistake is not the end all be all. Mistakes happen, but you’ve got this. Keep on humaning, people. You’re doing great and don’t you forget it!