I remember loving my bike when I was little. I loved going fast, I loved the wind on my face, and I loved that neither of my parents could catch me if I was running on all cylinders. Then one day, my dad decided it was time for the training wheels to come off. I didn’t agree with him, but he insisted that I learn to ride “like a big boy.”

He took me out to the end of the driveway and helped me up onto the perfectly good bike that he had just ruined with his screwdriver. He held both my shoulders and walked slowly with me as I begrudgingly pedaled along. The minute he let go, even slightly, I started to fall. I tried to keep the bars straight and the bike steady, but it was no use. After several tries, the results were always the same. We were fine so long as he didn’t let go of my shoulders. But the minute he let go, the show was over.

After the trauma of having my training wheels removed and earning a few new scuffs on my knees and elbows, I was pretty frustrated. All I wanted to do was go inside and watch Ghostbusters, but my dad suggested we give it one last try. I had had enough. The minute he let go, I threw my handlebars sideways and hit the curb. I screamed out loud so that he would see the pain he was putting me through and he would know it was his fault. He finally gave up and let me have my way.

A couple days passed, and my dad asked if we could try again with the bike. I was still angry with him, but I knew he wasn’t going to put the training wheels back on. So, with no help whatsoever, I took the bike out of the garage, hopped on, and rode away down the street at full speed. I didn’t even wobble. I could hear my dad laughing behind me as I sped away, determined to show him just how fast I could go.

From that day, I never fell off my bike again. I enjoyed riding my bike all through elementary and middle school, but I never once went back and thanked my dad for pulling those training wheels from me.

Do we ever go back and thank God for taking our training wheels from us, or do we just kick and scream? Do we ever put our trials in perspective and realize that, even though it’s difficult (and possibly physically painful), God knows what’s best? Do we have the wisdom to see that our endurance through tough times will shape us into what God desires us to be?

James 1:2-4
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

Photo: flickr /dnorman