The Fog is Lifting

Photo courtesy of Ethan Parrott of SC.


I started this post over a week ago, thinking I would give a more detailed report of the last week.
I have found that I can’t give it much thought at this time.

Our Christmas season has had some unexpected turns.
The short version is this. My wife and I were expecting our second child. At just over 19 weeks we went to the ultrasound which was to determine the gender of the baby.

We received news at that time, that our child was already in Heaven. Not that our doctor thought our child was in heaven – as he tried to comfort us with talk of bad luck and cosmic rays. His delusion – and I wasn’t in the frame of mind to set him straight. All I could say was "There is a God, and He is sovereign." Smart as he was, the doctor seemed clueless on those 2 points.

We spent the next 2 days at the hospital grieving and waiting for our child to be delivered. We were overwhelmed by the love and support from our church and other friends.
We chose to induce the delivery, so that we would be able to see our baby, and hold our baby. 1:25 am of the second day, Friday Dec. 12, she delivered a 10 oz 10.5” baby boy. We named him Ezekiel, which means “God Strengthens.” He most certainly has.

We arranged and held a funeral which was attended by many of our friends and family. His body now lies in a cemetery in Concord, CA. But, we know that he is actually more alive than ever in the presence of our Good God.
I have avoided the obvious question of “why.” I don’t know why. In the grand scheme of things, my experience is actually minor compared to the sorrow of so many. That doesn’t help me any though. The only thing that really helps, is the consolation, that someday I will meet and shake hands with the man that is my son. He will walk me through the gardens and mountains of a new home. He may even be the one to re-introduce me to other loved ones who have been there long before him.
I have the assurance that in Christ, all are made alive.

It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Lots of talk about a baby named Jesus right around now. For the record, He didn’t stay a baby. He lived a life not unlike ours. Political upheaval, religious intolerance, just making ends meet. The difference was, He didn’t have to be here. He chose a birth canal as His entrance into the world He had created. He lived with pain and the frustrations of life knowing that on a divinely predetermined day, he would be executed for “crimes” he never committed.

That was the only way. That was the key that unlocked eternity. A key shaped like a cross.

Not everyone enters eternity with the confident expectation of eternal peace and joy. Jesus offers that as a free gift.

Do I fully understand it – No. Do I believe it – Yes.

The Fog

This must come across as rather obvious to most folks, but, if you can't see and others can't see you - don't ride your bike.

But oh how the short days make for a very long off season!
Many use the time out of the saddle to cross train with running, weight lifting, knitting, and other cardiopulmonary activities. But face it, these can be soooo boring.
By the third or fourth week of the winter daylight schedule, that bike is looking rather tempting.

So I've been going out at odd times, and racing daylight.
A few weeks back I rode to the start of one of our runs, locked up the bike in Vince's truck, then returned home in the pitch black. That return trip nearly cost me though, as an oncoming import nearly turned left into me. Way too close.

To make things even worse, the fog rolled in for nearly a solid week. If you want to see depressed Californians, stick them in the fog for a few days.

Our monthly men's prayer breakfast landed on a foggy Saturday morning. The low temperature was in the upper 30's, and the regularly scheduled "ride to breakfast" found me riding alone. There were a variety of excuses from the others...Wimps. I had planned a small climb up Bailey Rd., a notoriously narrow and winding climb just a few miles shy of our destination. Visibility was a generous 1/8 of a mile at initial cruising altitude, but the climb was already suspect. At several points along the way it occurred to me that the pass may indeed be impassible. But, to the reader's surprise...I pressed on. Two pre-selected detours faded back into the fog as I chose to press toward the goal, rather than take one of those shorter routes.

Concord Blvd. gradually shortened, till as far as I knew, it may have only been a few hundred feet long. The sign for Bailey Rd. emerged from the mist and passed by on the right as I turned left, and began the trip across the valley toward the ascent. The Concord Naval Weapon's station, soon to be converted into mid priced condo's, was at one point serviced by a short railway, connecting this valley to the Sacramento / San Joaquin river delta. At these tracks I stopped and contemplated. Oh how I wanted to be able to say I had climbed Bailey Rd with 50' visibility. Oh how I wanted to survive it.



I survived...




...I turned back and went the other way.

(Waiting for applause from my mother and wife to subside)


I arrived at the prayer breakfast 30 minutes late - and soaked.
I never quite got warmed up, in spite of several cups of coffee and an incredible spread. Several offered their trucks to drive me home, but that would never do.

The dreary miles home were accompanied by a slight breeze from the east swirling the mist and dragging my breath on ahead as I slowed for the climbs.

Ahhhh.
Again - the hot shower, bedroom slippers, and the latest copy of Bicycling Magazine, upon arrival at my couch.

Again, - worth it. Barely.