Man, I just got back from bucket collecting in town, went to collect my bike, and..... frick. Gone. Nicked. On futher investigation of the crime scene, I found a my shattered bike lock and little shards of plastic from it's destruction. Very grumpy luas ride home.
It was one of those moments in life that would seem really easy to pin on some sort of cruel God. He's not though, trust me. It was just circumstance. I had made a lot of positive choices recently, some to do with my money and my time, and then my bike got nicked. Back when I thought God was just some angry jerk in the sky, I used to love pinning stuff on him. Anything that went wrong was obviously the act of some great sky bully. But since then, I have learned that sometimes things just happen, and coincidentally, sometimes they super suck when combined with other things. One of the most relieving lessons I've learned from God is that not everything happens for a reason. Some things happen for a reason, but sometimes, things just suck. Here's a great verse that a friend has as her MSN message that really helped me understand this.
11 I have seen something else under the sun:
The race is not to the swift
or the battle to the strong,
nor does food come to the wise
or wealth to the brilliant
or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happen to them all.
I don't believe God was punishing me for some sin I had committed by sending some guy (or lady, just to avoid sexism.) to steal my bike. I believe some guy wanted to steal a bike for whatever reason, be it money or otherwise, and he broke my lock and then ran off with it.
The bad and extremely grumpy news is, I have to pay for the bike. My parents are distressed that I would leave it in town, and thusly are extracting the payment out of my bank account. The childcare that we recieve from the Govt. goes into my bank account anyway, but it's still frustrating that it's coming out of my proverbial pocket. What makes me mad is, my dad was surprised that I even left it in town. This morning, we had a minor argument over my plans for the weekend coming out of the blue. I explained to him that I had already told him and my mom about this, and then he recalled that I had told them, but he didn't remember the details. "I guess I just wasn't paying attention to what you were saying", he said with a chuckle. Then after that was cleared up, I told him, while dressed in fluorescent vest and with a bicycle hemlet firmly planeted on my noggin that I was bucket collecting in Graphton street today. He nodded in consent, and I was off, which I presumed meant that he was ok with me leaving my bike in town, as I had just explained all this to him while wearing a bicycle helmet. Upon returning home, he was surprised to hear that I had not only biked to said destination, but the destination was in fact, town. Grr! He then explained to me that they had told me that leaving my bike in town was a bad idea, which I did not understand to translate into having to pay nearly 500 euros out of my money in the event of theft.
I suppose I was relatively comfortable with having my bike stolen until I learned that I was the one who had to pay for it. On the luas I realised I had to forgive this person. I found it easy enough to do, I suppose. It's just a possession, and those come and go. Maybe the concept of a person being responsible for this misfortune and the misfortune itself is a little seperated in my mind. All the same, my bike's nicked, and I gotta pay for the new one. All things considered, this a minor problem in the grander scale of things, and my life is still showered with more blessings than I could count! I look forward to the new earth where rust and moth do not destroy, and theives do not break in and steal. I'll be able to ride my bike down streets of gold to go to.... I don't know what exactly there would be in heaven that I would have to bike to, but maybe I'd be biking up to see the sunrise with Jesus. That seems like a thing I'd like to bike to. Maybe we could ride our bikes together, and we wouldn't even need to lock them to the trees. I'd say
"Man, that is beautiful. Thank you so much for this. Good work by the way, it's very pretty!"
and he might say something along the lines of
"You're welcome, and thanks!"
It would be great.
And now, for the bike itself, let us have a moment of silence. (Unless you're reading this out loud to yourself, I don't think I'm asking too much of you here.) I don't recall ever definitively naming her, but I believe I once called her "Sasha", and that is enough for me. She was a good bike, with strong brakes that didn't wear down, she once had a high-tech speedomether that I loved, until it stopped working. Her gears worked well, and I regret not oiling them, she deserved better than that. *Sniff* We had our ups and downs, like that one time her front wheel came off and I somersaulted and she landed on me, crushing my leg. I will never forget the times she transported me tirelessly to church and youth club, and for that, she will always have a place in my heart. Farewell Sacha, I hope whatever dude that stole you is taking good care of you.
4 years ago