I hopped onto the back of David’s motorcycle and settled into the seat. My arms found their home around his waist. The angst I felt yesterday at David’s race had melted away. As we rode, I gave thanks for a race day with no “tip overs.”
My greatest fear is losing David. He was made for me and I never want to let him go. And while I no longer get worked up about him crashing while competing, the possibility lies restlessly in the backdrop. At the racetrack, I realized I was holding my breath. Because just five weeks previous, David attempted an aggressive pass which landed him on his head with a slight concussion.
But now on the back of his bike, it was just me, him, and the wind of freedom rushing through our helmets. No racing, just cruising. I leaned with him around the curves of the mountain.
I caught my breath at the steep overlooks and huge red rock formations.
And exhaled as we rode through the Colorado National Monument.
Perhaps you’ve been holding your breath during the unknown moments. Maybe you’ve had so many disappointments that you anticipate life’s next impact.
I used to stand at the pit wall white knuckled.
And I’d let fear win the race.
But what if…you could really trust God…with your biggest fear?
I remember the exact moment that I gave my greatest fear to Him. Just before a race, I whispered, “I can’t live like this. Take this fear from me.”
What came to mind was one question: Do you trust me?
And that’s what it all comes down to—trusting His unseen presence—in the unspeakable circumstances, during the heartache of unanswered prayers, and in moments of doubt.
Realizing that I had no control over racing outcomes, a soft “Yes” escaped my lips.
It’s time to exhale.
To fill your lungs with life.
And step into the unknown.
When you let go, you truly live.
Be assured that outcomes rest safely in the loving palms of our Creator.
Who longs for our “yes” as He whispers, “Do you trust me?”
“All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16