For Joy's Sake

This morning I decided to hop on my bike for a ride. Now, let me first say that it was raining most of last night, and it was dreadfully cold outside (albeit dry) when I woke up. 36 degrees, to be specific.

A big part of me didn’t want to ride, but at the same time, I woke up with a peculiar energy to just get out, get some variety, and go for a good old-fashioned bike ride.

Now, for some quick context:

This was, I believe, the 3rd “real ride” I’ve taken since October 3rd, 2019. That was the day I ruptured my Achilles (because apparently, I’m getting older but my mind hasn’t quite wrapped itself around that reality just yet).  

By “real ride”, I mean intentionally putting on the cycling gear (yep – spandex), clipping in, and going a decent distance.

The obstacle this morning was not the weather (even though it was really cold), not the state of my right leg (the calf muscle is still weak and nowhere near the same size as the other leg); the biggest obstacle was that my Garmin was out of battery.

Without that cycling computer, how was I to know how far I was riding? How was I to know my average speed? What about my climbing speed up the hills? Or how about the descent? 

You see, part of my motivation for cycling is to compare my current performance against previous rides. Have I improved? Am I slowing down? And if so, can I make a reasonably justifiable excuse for the poor performance? (OK, that last one is more of a justification than a motivation…)

But none of that was available this morning.

No computer. No speedometer. No performance metrics.

Heck, according to Garmin, I didn’t even get credit for the ride today.

All that was left was to simply ride for joy.

I didn’t realize how profound this was until I was on the bike riding through my favorite parts of town. Unable to check my performance, I was left to simply enjoying the cadence of the pedals, noticing the scenery, and remembering just how much I enjoy getting on a bike.

I rode for joy.

And joy found me on the ride. 

I was faced with the reality that, over this past year, I haven’t done much for joy’s sake. Sure, I’ve had fun, we’ve done some cool things as a family, but the burden of responsibility at work, making sure my family is provided for, wondering how to best navigate COVID, etc. has taken its toll.

And I didn’t even know it until I was forced to deliberately consider joy.

When’s the last time you’ve done something simply for joy’s sake?

Maybe it’s not a 36-degree bike ride (only deranged people enjoy that), but possibly a slow walk through your neighborhood, or a visit to someplace beautiful nearby, or simply savoring a good meal?

I decided to stop at a beautiful nature preserve in the hills above town. I got off the bike, paused, and noticed the spring blossoms on the trees. I smelled the scent of fresh sage bush in the air. I saw glorious snow-capped mountains unveiled by the clouds. I heard the birds chirping.

I also heard the harsh sounds of construction nearby. 

I heard sirens coming from the city below.

And it made me realize: Sometimes life is about building, sometimes life is about healing, sometimes life is consumed with pain and tragedy; but in the midst of it all, there is peace and joy to be found – if we work hard enough for it.

The return ride home brought bone-chilling cold on the descent. As I made my way home, I noticed the view of the mountains obstructed by new clouds. And it dawned on me: I would have missed the moment – the view, the sounds, the smells – if I had let function, performance, or temperature get in the way.

I would have missed it.

Had I not responded to the nudge to get out this morning, I would have missed out on the joy of experiencing something magnificent in the middle of the familiar.

Can you relate to that restlessness?

Is something nudging you to take a step toward joy? Do the obstacles seem insurmountable? Does your “joy step” seem impractical? Inconvenient?

Is it possible that it’s very thing your soul might be crying out for? 

Have you given yourself permission this past year to even consider what it is that brings you joy?

What would it look like to take a deliberate step toward joy today?

Or to take a bike ride?

Just promise yourself that you’ll do it without the metrics, without the speedometer, and without giving way to the obstacles.

You just might find that God refreshes your soul along the way…