I have a bicycle. It’s a really nice one. Sleek, light blue, very light, and the handlebars are just the right distance away from the seat.It’s a smooth ride. I love biking. Well, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I love the idea of biking. I mean, the thought of it is liberating: wind blowing in my face, taking the time to enjoy the scenery, the way the bike seems to glide on the paths. The few times that I went biking before autumn ended took place mostly along the edge of the river, of which there is hardly a place more enjoyable to spend time in the waning sun and the coloured leaves falling.

I digress. I have a bicycle. I, at the very least, love the idea of biking. The reason I say that I love the idea of biking is for the very reason that this year I’ve only actually used it a few times. The thing is, I always start out with my idea of what biking means to me: exactly as I described above. Soft, warm and gentle wind, beautiful scenery, gliding along paths...yes, that it what I want it to be. The truth is, in order for me to actually make it to the scenery, I have to bike a decent way. This means ... work. And then I start to also remember that not only do I carry myself on this journey, but I tote behind me my son, who is too young yet to take his own weight on a bicycle. This means ... more work. Not only that, but some of the paths around the river are not straight, but windy and hilly. And it’s really hard to pull my son’s buggy behind me (and let’s not forget, it’s also packed with diapers, toys, and books, so his bag weighs almost as much as he) while going up a number of hills, and wait – that’s not warm wind, but sharp, and cold. And is that rain I felt on my hands? I didn’t bring a rain jacket. Crap. How far do I go before I have to turn around before getting soaked to the bone? And did I forget my water bottle again? I can’t go far without drinking water, which is ironic, as there is water falling on me ... and so forth.

I have a bicycle. I love biking. I really do. But sometimes the reality of what it actually can be at times pushes me away from doing what I really love. The truth is (and I often forget this when I’m thinking of all the detrimental things that can happen), even when the bike trip turns sour, when I come home I still think to myself, I’m glad I at least went out while I could.

I’ve just recently turned this thought onto my prayer life. I have a prayer life. It’s a really nice one. Sleek, smooth ... but the thing is, it’s hard. Sometimes, it feels like it takes too much energy or time to do. I often forget that, similar to my biking situation, even after the work, I do say: I’m glad I at least went out while I could.

I have walking shoes. They’re really nice and comfortable...