There's me and then there's God

Wednesday Night July 16, 2014 my husband, toddler son and I watched Stage 11 of Le Tour de France on our DVR. Allen prefers the live broadcast, so he sets it to record in the morning and then we watch it in the evening. He loves le Tour. I get interested, but not overly so. That night, I was riveted, watching Andrew Talansky's journey. I don't know much about him, except he's from the US and he's part of team Garmin. I don't know his history. I don't know what type of guy he is. I know he touched my heart that night. That day, he became an Everyman. He became more than himself. I daresay, he became a race legend. At least for me he did. If you saw the race, you know what happened. For those of you that didn't see it, he fell behind the peloton (that's what they call the big group of riders in Le Tour). The first ten stages of Le Tour this year was brutal. There were terrible crashes right and left. Race favorites were dropping out daily. Almost every rider has a scrape here, a bruise there. Andrew was banged up, suffering from back and hip pain. He slid further and further back until he was left behind. At one point, he stopped, got off his bike and just sat down on the side of the road. His coach got out of the team car and talked with him. Of course, we are not privy to these conversations, but afterward the coach said he told Andrew that if he couldn't go on, not to, but that he knew his body best. Andrew got back on the bike and finished the race solo. No one in his team came back for him. He was on his own. For 51 km/31 miles, he struggled up and down hills, falling further and further back. But still he soldiered on. To understand how momentous this is, you have to understand that riders ride in teams. They help one another. They take turns being the lead rider and drafting off one another. There's also that mental element of having someone with you. All he had was himself, and his coach in his ear - giving him encouragement, information, whatever motivation he needed to get to the end of that leg. There's a metaphor in this. Or a simile. All I know is, I watched Andrew ride with tears in my eyes. Because I've been there. I've been the guy at the back of the pack, by myself, falling further and further behind. Oh, not on a huge bicycle tour. But in LIFE. Le Tour is a life event. Stage 11 is the most challenging point. The pack has left you behind. Your team, your friends and family, riding their own race - facing their own struggles, couldn't stop to help you. It was just you. And the little voice in your ear, guiding you along. That guiding voice? That's God. Oh, not that I'm saying Andrew's coach is God. I'm saying that in the metaphor, he represents God. Giving encouragement, selected information - what you need to know to get through it, being there to listen. But having to stay hands off. Andrew's coach couldn't ride with him. He couldn't drive the car in front for Andrew to draft off. That's not legal in the race and, at that point, Andrew was planning on staying it, so he couldn't afford the time penalty. He was racing the clock, required to finished with a certain time or he'd be eliminated for taking too long. He had a deadline. Any penalties could ruin his time. Occasionally, there were bystanders along the route, cheering him on. They recognized the momentous effort he was putting in. They realized what he was up against, what he was trying to do. But like his coach, they couldn't actively help him ride. Andrew had to do that on his own. Like a beast, he finished that race over 30 minutes behind the stage winner, narrowly making the time limit. But he finished. He was bruised, battered and spent but he finished that Stage. Ultimately, he wound up withdrawing from Le Tour because of his injuries. But that doesn't diminish what he accomplished. He finished that ride. He did it. He didn't get a special jersey or stand on a podium with a model in a funky dress, but he finished that ride. He finished the ride! God is there for us. There's an old poem called Footprints. I love it. In the poem, there's a discussion between a man and God about their footprints on the beach. Most of the time there's two sets of prints. During the toughest times, the man notes there's only one set and accuses God of abandoning him. But no, God carried the man through those tough times. Emotionally, that is how it is. God will be there for you, listening, giving you information and direction, occasionally handing you a bottle of water. Staying as close as possible. I find myself talking to God a lot, laying out my concerns and fears. Especially because I don't want to burden my family and friends with my problems. They have their own serious issues they're working through. There are just times in life, stages in your events where you're by yourself, 51 kilometers behind everyone else and it's just you and God. Just you and God.