Collision Course

June 28, 2011.  I could have died that day.

Riding my bicycle to work a couple of times a week seemed to be a good idea.  15 miles one way on the bike meant 2 hours of exercise for the round trip, and with fuel prices on the rise, the thought of reducing gasoline consumption was also attractive.  Those were my thoughts as I pedaled to work that fateful morning.  I arrived in good spirits, on time, and spent a relatively uneventful day at work.  I had no idea what lay ahead as I left the office in the late afternoon.

My normal bike ride home from work starts with a mile-long stretch of highway with heavy, rush hour traffic, followed by about 9 miles of a fairly well-maintained bike path along the San Gabriel River, and is capped by 5 miles of heavy street traffic that includes two major freeway crossings.  Riding in traffic seems daunting, but I trusted that most of the motorists know the rules of the road and are fully capable of not colliding into me, provided that I don't make sudden moves.  The bike path, on the other hand, can at times be utterly hazardous.  While I have full confidence in the experienced cyclists who are decked out in aerodynamic Spandex and expensive-looking road bikes, I am ever wary of runners, walkers, and the more "recreational" riders who meander the paths at slower paces.  They seem to weave and occupy the entire bike lane, oblivious that they are sharing the path with cyclists who may be riding at speeds in excess of 20 miles per hour.  After about one mile on the path, I saw before me a young girl who was riding without a helmet in her junior-sized bike, weaving around without holding the handlebars.  I slowed down to make sure that I could pass safely, and from 30 feet out hollered, "Bike passing to your left!"

She didn't hear me.  I shouted again, and slowed down to a near stop to avoid colliding into her.  Startled, the girl swerved and turned her bike right into my path.  A collision was inevitable.  As it turned out, we were in a particularly hazardous portion of the path, where one edge of the path drops abruptly off into a steep riverbed embankment.  If I turned to stay clear of the precipice, I would have plowed the little girl down toward the riverbed.  The girl screamed.

I turned the other way, tumbled off the bike, and slid several feet down the rough concrete wall on my left arm and leg, with the bike hanging on to my right foot.  My Blackberry phone flew out of my holster, and by the time it rested face-down on the concrete, the entire face of the phone appeared as if it was extruded from a grinder.  Large patches of skin on my left arm and leg suffered a similar fate and resembled second-degree burns.  The girl, totally unharmed but shaken, called out sheepishly to see if I was all right.  Her mother stood beside her, appearing concerned but helpless, and asked whether I spoke Spanish, because she does not understand English.  I stood up and picked up my damaged bike after determining that I only suffered bad abrasions, washed the wounds with my water bottle, and gave the girl a serious lecture about bike safety and the need to wear a helmet.  I had fleeting thoughts of obtaining the family's contact information in order to possibly collect damages for medical expenses and replacement for my phone, but decided to dismiss them instead.  The day did not seem to be ending well.

I talked to God during my long, painful ride home.  I asked why He allowed my life to temporarily flash before my eyes as I was heading down the steep embankment.  I asked why He caused to me experience so much physical pain.  I asked why He would allow my wife to see my wounds later in the evening and perhaps literally ban me from riding my bike to work again.  However, God did not allow me to dwell on such thought forever, and I soon began to give Him thanks for sparing my life, for preserving me from fractures, and for still being able to ride my bike home, bloodied and all.  I also thanked Him for having the opportunity to speak with the girl about bike safety, and that this may potentially help save many lives someday.  Finally, I acknowledged that God is giving me a couple of days off my intense exercise regimen so that I can regain balance in my life.  My only regret was that I failed to explicitly share with the girl and her mother about God's love.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  (Romans 8:28)

I just hope that my wife won't object to me riding my bike again next week.

Fully Grown

I love watching living things grow. I am fascinated by how beans sprout after being soaked in water. I get excited watching tadpoles growing legs and turning into frogs. I can spend hours watching silkworms methodically gnawing mulberry leaves and growing fatter each day, until they spin cocoons and eventually emerge as moths. Nowadays, as a pediatric specialist, I spend my working hours seeing newborn babies become toddlers, toddlers reach kindergarten age (and getting their shots), and grade school kids becoming teens over the years. As my patients reach the ripe old age of 18, I congratulate them for reaching the threshold of maturity, inquire of their future plans, and refer them, if necessary, to other doctors who will continue to provide them medical care during their adult years. Such send-off moments are often full of hope and excitement, as these youngsters look forward to college, work and whatever lies ahead. Becoming an adult seems like a good thing.

Unfortunately, some of my teen patients reach their 18^th birthdays as alcoholics or drug addicts. Many have already been sexually active, and a few have precociously experienced pregnancy, abortion, parenthood, statutory rape and sexually transmitted diseases. Virtually all have already been exposed to pornography, and porn addiction likely is commonplace. Their paths toward maturation seem to have taken wrong turns, and much darkness is in their future.

Ironically, while we recognize a certain ideal of the adult person, i.e., one who is strong, knowledgeable, capable, loyal, loving, faithful, disciplined, respected and wise, the word “adult” often is used to describe something that is irreparably degenerate in nature. “Adults” are allowed to purchase tobacco and liquor. Adults are permitted to view movies that titillates with sounds and images of violence, filthy language, and sexual immorality. “Adult” books, magazines, toys and content celebrate extramarital and grotesque sex as something that is normal and commonplace. Children who are inadvertently exposed to adult content are grossed out and disturbed by it, as it shatters their ideal of what adults are like. Eventually, many grow up to become what they saw.

Science textbooks often contain diagrams of animal life cycles. For the lion, they would have drawings of a newborn lion, cubs in various stages of maturation, and a stately, beautiful adult lion in all its glory at the pinnacle. It would be unusual for the adult lion to appear diseased or wounded in the picture. I wonder how the diagram would look like for humans if someone from another world came and observed us. Would the “normal” adult be overweight, prone to addiction, violent, unfaithful and deceitful? Our growth and development in this world often parallels the descriptions in James:

“...but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when full-grown, gives birth to death.”

James 1:14-15

May we grow rightly by God's grace, and reach a different kind of maturity.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”

Galatians 5:22-23

Tastes Like Chicken

How do you describe something that you just tasted for the first time? A coffee critic may characterize a certain blend with words like “fruity”, “smoky”, “acidic”, “mellow”, “intense”, or “burnt”, and an experienced coffee drinker can more or less mentally imagine the flavor. On the other hand, “tastes like chicken” is a pretty safe answer when describing different kinds of meat. How does turkey taste? Tastes like chicken. What about rattlesnake? Tastes like chicken. Frog leg? Tastes like chicken. Alligator? Tastes like chicken. Tofu? Tastes like chicken...not.

I recently asked my eighth grade Sunday school class to image describing tofu to someone who has never tasted it before. All of them were of Asian descent, and were quite familiar with this common soy product. Their answers were quite entertaining:

“Tofu is really soft and white, like a marshmallow, but it doesn't taste like it.”

“It doesn't have much taste.”

“It's like soybean-flavored jelly.”

“It tastes like tofu....”

“It's soft and squishy like a custard, but it tastes different....”

By the end of the discussion, it was quite obvious that no one could quite come up with an adequate description of the texture and taste of tofu; however, nearly everyone agreed that one must taste tofu to know what tofu tastes like.

We run into the same problem when we try to describe God. Although God created the universe and is wholly responsible for our very existence, He is so different from anything in the world that He defies description. In fact, God specifically prohibits in the Ten Commandments the making of “graven images” that may be used as representations of Himself, as any such image would be imperfect, inferior, and impotent compared to the Almighty.

Nevertheless, God also wants His people to have knowledge of Himself, and the Bible gives us sketches of God by using things and experiences that are familiar to us. We ought to pray to “Our Father in heaven”. Jesus appeared on earth in human form. The Holy Spirit is characterized as wind, water, fire, and even as a dove alighting on Jesus. Yet, these images and metaphors provide but a small foretaste of the wonderful experience and knowledge of God that will be revealed to us fully after we complete our earthly journey.

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:12)

It will be way better than chicken.