Sometimes I think life is like cycling the hills of Sheffield. Up, down, up, down, very rarely straight. That’s how much of life is isn’t it? At least it seems mine is. So often it feels like the times when I’m cycling up that massive hill, and it seems I’ll never make it to the top. My legs are screaming at me to stop, I’m too tired. And that’s when I start to think what’s the point? Why am I making myself do this, why am I making myself go through this pain when I could so easily turn around and go back down? But I don’t, because that’s not the point. I have to keep going even when it’s hard, life is never an easy ride. Sometimes I do stop, I get off my bike and I look behind me. And I can see where I’ve come from, but it’s not where I’m going. I regain some energy, I get back on and I keep pedalling; because there is a goal, there is a destination. I’m going to get the top and I’m going to conquer that hill, because there’s a reward: I get to go down! I get to the top because nothing can quite compare to that freeing feeling when my body can relax and I’m sweeping downwards. And when the air is cooling my hot face, and the world is whizzing past I know it was worth it. And that’s what life is about. It’s persevering even when the task seems impossible, when your life is too messy and difficult to make sense of. Because with God’s help you will make it, and that’s the hope that you need to take grasp of. That you will overcome the difficulties, and when you do, you’ll be free to fly, gravity no longer pulling you back.
