Does God show up for orphans?

I had planned to get started training today for the 100 mile bike race.  I was going to do 40 miles with a friend in one stretch to see if I could make it.  This would be my first step on my 8 week training plan, and my first real test to see if the 100 mile race was doable for this old guy.

Life seemed to have other plans.  Last night I got wrapped up in a home improvement project and ended up not going to bed until about 2 am.  Also, I was fighting a virus, perhaps the Strep that my son, Liam, has.  My friend texted to say he was sick too.  My plan was to start the ride at 7 am, but clearly that was unrealistic.  "Let me just not set the alarm and see what happens," I thought.  "Maybe, I will just do a shorter ride or none at all." 

At about 6:45 am, I awoke to the gentle sounds and sunshine of Spring.  Unable to sleep, I dragged myself out of bed and into my sweats.  I made my latest breakfast sandwich (peanut butter on toast with a whole bunch of walnuts and honey). A few raisins or cranberries would have made it better, but it was enough to get me out of the house and onto my bike.  Stone-faced and robotic I moved like a machine stuck in a very low gear.

Then it happened.

Just several blocks from my house, I randomly asked God what was up with this ride?  As clear as crystal the answer came, "I just want to love you."  Tears come even now as I recall that Voice.  I can hardly describe it.  "But why?" I asked.  His candid response was, "No reason really, just because." 

I road on down to the bay.  It was a bright and brisk Spring morning.  Every several miles or so, the bike path rose to a bridge over a little river, road, channel, or swampy area.  As I crossed each bridge, out to the left I could see into the ocean bay.  The water glistened in the morning sun.  I saw a few ducks launch out across the water like overloaded single-engine de Havilland Otters taking off from Sioux Lookout waterfront.  In the quietness, it was as if God was painting a picture just for me.




When I was a depressed teenager, dad and I used to get up early on mornings like this.  We went jogging.  At age 15, I could already outpace him, a man of 55, but he never seemed to mind.  I think he kind of enjoyed it.  He would chuckle and act amazed when he was done, and I could still sprint the last half block or so home. Yes, it was mornings just like this one.

Then it came together for me. 

Why had I awakened after only 5 hours of sleep?  Why had I somewhat automatically decided to ride even though health and sanity would have said, "no?"

Really simple. My Father woke me up for a ride with Him.

Needless to say, I completed all the miles I attempted.  I feel like I could do another 40, but the miles aren't the point anymore. 

Through tears and more tears, I can only think of one thing . . .

I have a Father again.



Here's a song I like:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXsiWoyjw60