Thanks for a soft landing

“Aim at Heaven and you will get Earth thrown in. Aim at Earth and

you get neither.”

-- C.S. LEWIS

I’m writing this on the morning of my birthday. I’m tired, a

little beaten up and bruised and, frankly, I wanted to sleep in this

morning. My body and soul could use it because I’ve had trouble

sleeping and I’m hurting.

I was in a bike crash last weekend. In some ways, it was a small

crash. I’ve seen big crashes, where people end up with broken bones

or worse and I’ve thanked God many times that that didn’t happen to

me.

I always wear a helmet, I know the rules of the road. I also know

tips to try once it’s clear that my body and bike are going down.

But in another way, it was a big crash, because I hit the ground

pretty hard. I’m oozing and bruising and it will take time, and a lot

of ice, to recover.

I actually laughed when I hit the dirt, because I knew I looked

ridiculous. One minute I was up, happily biking, enjoying the beauty

of the day and the fun of being with daughter Kelly, husband Jon and

other great people. Then in a split second, my clean bike and body

were a mess.

The other reason I laughed was that God allowed me to land in soft

dirt instead of cactus, sharp rocks or another undesirable. The

trails are marked periodically with droppings of horses, coyotes and

other animals.

I felt I could hear the tenderness of God’s voice saying, “I love

you Cindy, please calm down and let me take care of you. Don’t try to

take care of everybody else.”

The message was as clear as I was dirty. I thought about lying in

the dirt for awhile, but I didn’t want to get lost. Despite my fall,

the ride was worthwhile because it was a fund-raiser for a meaningful

cause.

I’m writing before sunrise and I’m glad you can’t see me dressed

in a big fuzzy bathrobe that covers multiple ice bags. Last night I

slept awhile, but then woke up suddenly. Unfortunately my mind woke

up too and even though our bedroom was dark and cozy and my husband

was sleeping silently, my brain became noisy. I asked God to lasso

and corral my racing thoughts and help me to sleep.

Sometime after that I had a dream that was so real I felt like I

actually talked with my grandfather. Pop was the sweetest, kindest,

most gentle grandfather a little girl could hope for. Many of you

knew him too; his name was Byron Farwell. He’d stop everything the

minute I appeared at my grandparents’ home.

My grandmother was wonderful, always happy to see me, but it was

Pop in my dream. He hugged me, and we sat and talked for a long time.

He never looked at his watch; he enjoyed being with me. He made me

laugh, he made me feel special and he made me feel safe.

I’m thankful for soft dirt and no broken bones. I’m thankful too

for who God is, who Pop was, and for the many special people God has

placed in our lives. And you can quote me on that.

* CINDY TRANE CHRISTESON is a Newport Beach resident who speaks

frequently to parenting groups. She may be reached via e-mail at

[email protected] or through the mail at P.O. Box 6140-No. 505,

Newport Beach, CA 92658.