This weekend I went to see Bella the movie at the indie theater. Great film. I cried happy tears. A little Christiany-idealistic, but beautiful, nonetheless. It won loads of awards. Just go see it. (There's my paltry movie review of the day.)
I had the best parking spot in town: about three steps outside the box office. I locked up the bike and felt like I was royalty. The trick was, after a post-film Mexican feast, I had a short ride by bike to Amy's house. And it was dark.
[Note to Mama: it is very, very rare that I ride at night. And I have a nice flashing red light that I wear to alert drivers, along with a headlight!]
I took off for Los Robles, and was doing just great in the bike lane, chugging along at a good speed. My eyes were concentrating on the stoplight up ahead. Out of nowhere this white Suburban pulls up beside me, and an (assumedly drunk, or just foolish) boy shrieks/screams at me from his window. They drove off, laughing. It took me 15 seconds to process that they were just trying to startle me, maybe to make me fall. (Not so funny.)
The best part was, though, I didn't even flinch. I was a little startled, but I just sort of rolled my eyes in my head. I was too focused on the stoplight up ahead to turn to the right or the left. (Thankfully.)
The whole story makes me think of the struggle of following Jesus, and Jesus alone. My bike ride seems to call it a universal truth that we naturally go towards wherever our eyes are fixed. Even when silly people emerge and come screaming in our ears. And even when we're telling silly lies to ourselves.
May we fix ourselves, all over again, on the Light that shines in the dark. Let's silence the outer (or inner) noise.
(Screaming pepper photo by 7E55E-BRN)