What do you do when hope grows old—
Like a lively fire turned tired and cold?
What do you do when milestones pass,
And life feels broken, like shattered glass?

What do you do when blessings fade—
Like elusive dreams that still evade?
What do you do when doubt within
Turns what was gold to tarnished tin?

So, what do you do? I’ll tell you friend—
It’s not over yet; it’s not the end.
So, make the choice that come what may,
You will be good—anyway.

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“Dad!  What do I do?  WHAT DO I DO? ………… No, no, NNNNOOOOOO!!!!! ……….. AAAAWWWWWGGGHHHHH!!!!!!” ………… CRASH!!! 

I was six years old.  Dad and I were in the church parking lot across the street from the apartment complex where we lived.  I was learning to ride a bike.  It was painful.  Dad had been holding onto the seat to balance me while I figured out how to pedal and steer.  I am a bit uncoordinated, and learning to ride was bringing out this limitation in me.  I was struggling to keep pedaling in a forward motion instead of backwards—which would apply the brake.  Then, just as I was starting to feel comfortable with this process and feeling a little excited about bike riding, Dad unexpectedly let go of the seat. . . .

I was on my own.  And I was doing it!  Just me and the big wide world!  I was succeeding! I was amazing!  And then, the parking lot was suddenly getting very small, and I was headed straight for the curb!  Dad hollered from somewhere in the universe for me to turn the handle bars.  I wish I could have, but I could not balance AND pedal AND steer.  And so, I did the only thing I could do—continue full steam ahead while contemplating how tragically my short little life would soon end.

Well, I didn’t die (thanks for asking).  But, I did hit the curb and fell pretty hard.  I also got a bad case of road rash, involuntarily donated blood to the asphalt gods, and leaked some water from my eyes.  Dad ran over to make sure I was okay (I didn’t feel like I was).  Then, he made me get back on that death contraption, in spite of my protests.  

Today, I am proud to report that I can balance and pedal and steer.  I even love riding a bike.  When I am feeling especially brave, I even bike with no hands on the handlebars!  Am I amazing?  No, I just learned how to ride. 

Sometimes life feels like learning to ride a bike.  We feel we can’t do it all, and we certainly cannot do it all at the same time.  Sometimes we feel we are headed for a crash and feel powerless to do anything about it.  Sometimes we feel battered, banged up, and broken.  Or, we may feel like a failure—like we will never achieve our goals and dreams.

Growing in the gospel of Jesus Christ can produce all these same emotions and experiences in addition to spiritual feelings of inadequacy and failure.  Furthermore, we add in the weaknesses and offences and shortcomings of others, and it can leave us feeling like it is just too much.  We may even think we have tried the ‘church thing’ or the ‘God thing’ and it just isn’t for us.  And yet, God says he gives us—and those around us—weaknesses to teach us and help us grow to become more like Him (Ether 12:27).

In these moments we have a choice.  Where will we turn?  Where will we go?  Will we, regardless of our most recent crash, get up and back on the bicycle?  Will we choose to be good in spite of the bad?  Because, in the end, goodness leads to greatness and greatness leads to godliness.

And maybe, just maybe, we are where we are because we have advanced to the point that God trusts us enough to take off the training wheels and let go of the seat.

Written: October 21, 2018