Devotional 2-19-16

Sacrifice

In June of 2013 I had the honor, for the second year in a row, to bicycle from Huntington, WV to Washington DC for the purpose of raising money and awareness for a cause near and dear to my heart – Homeless Veterans.

The trip began with great fan fair on Veterans Memorial Boulevard. As a ‘thank you’ to all of the cyclists who had supported the effort, Day 1 was a police escorted ride all the way to Charleston. It was a spectacular day. We rode and talked and laughed – with no traffic worries. One couldn’t help but feel good.

Day 2 had the nine Tri State Cyclists for Veterans on the move 66 miles towards Sutton. We were within five miles of this day’s destination when it became apparent to me and to anyone riding near me (especially behind me) that something was VERY wrong with my back wheel. I ‘limped’ along to the church where we would spend the night. One of our riders happened to be a super bike mechanic. After he had spent some time with the wheel, I knew from the look on his face – and the grease on his fingers – that the news was NOT good. I could not continue on the trip with this wheel. Thanks to the generosity of the local bike shops in Huntington we had a great many spare parts with us. They wanted us to go prepared. But a replacement wheel was not part of our gear.  

                                                                        

  I knew that I had a set of wheels – at home – in Huntington – two hours away…

I pulled my cell phone from pocket and made a call. It was Sunday afternoon, and I knew Kim would be out of church by now. She was at home. I explained what had happened. I told of the spare wheel at the house. I don’t think I ever really got around to asking her to bring it – she said, “I walked to the garage while we’ve been talking. I’m here now. Where is it?” I guided her to the cubby hole where it would be and without a moment’s hesitation she said, “I have it. I’m on my way.”  After nearly 30 years together, she could no doubt hear the despair in my voice. I had trained for months. I had helped raise money for the Center. I had my heart set on this trip. And now it was over, two days in. But such is the nature of my wonderful wife. Kim is a giver-er. Spare time is not an abundant resource in our lives. This trip to help me was going to pull no fewer than four hours out of a Sunday afternoon when there were a million things I’m sure she would rather be doing.  The phone had disconnected and two hours later she was pulling up in front of Christ United Methodist Church in Sutton.

When other members of group were quizzing about my plan for repair, I said that Kim was on her way with a wheel. The responses were priceless. “Where is she?” “Huntington.”  “Wha…?” (you know how that sounds – Wha…, we don’t even give it its full measure. No ’t’. Wha…? You mean she’s driving all the way up here for JUST that? “Yes.” “Wha…?” Heads shook in amazement. Some muttered as they turned,  “My wife would never do that.”

After greeting the group, a far too inadequate Thank You from me and a kiss, she was back in the car headed to Huntington. Her sacrifice that day will remain in my heart forever.

Tell someone who is broken and grieving that there’s this guy named Jesus. It’s Easter and he is about to knowingly ride into a city where the residents are going to kill him. “Wha…?” Why would he do that? Because he loves you! Wha…?  He knows when you hurt. He knows when you stray. He knows when you have a broken wheel and can’t go on. And he loves you all the same. It is never “Wha…? I should sacrifice myself for THAT one?” It’s, “I’m on my way.” He is here.

Steve Matthews