It is I

The ride up the last part of the road challenges me with extra sweat and strain throughout my legs, as well as overstimulating my breath and heart, yet the end result is always worth it. I'm left at the dead end of the road, with the brush of the foothill and horse ranch behind me, and the entire valley laid out before me.  It's wrapped in stillness and subtle breeze.  It's absolutely worth every drop of sweat to arrive there, and yesterday, I was greeted with a gentle doe who quietly hid back into the underbrush.  For a moment, our eyes met, mine with wonder, hers with fear.  But the moment remains for me. . .

In that place, I always am aware how your view can be clearer as you observe the whole valley and can pick out very distinct landmarks.  Even listening can be sharper as it seems sounds and calls echo up to the heights, as well as disperse across the landscape.  So it's not hard for me to imagine how Jesus could see the troubled sea of Galilee and his followers struggling for control of their fishing boat.  How long they fought the winds, I do not know.  Their fear of the sea then vanished into the  the fear of seeing their leader walking on the water toward them!  Yea, right!  He had to be a ghost, man can't walk on water!  But then that voice, the only voice that originally called each of them to be his disciple, said, "It is I, do not be afraid."  Ego eimi . . . why didn't he just say, "it's me?"  To me it seems he made a point to remind them even in their fear that He is "I AM," the ever present One, Yahweh Himself, even in their danger and fears.  Jesus always spoke with purpose and power, and that evening was no exception. . . "it is I."

Now, riding my bike at a much faster pace down the same part of the road, in front of the me, slithering sideways across the pavement is something at first glance I presume to be a snake, by its size.  But getting closer,  I see it's just a big black lizard with a very long tail, and it has now safely made it to the gutter.  I assume that it will just stop, since it has arrived at its destination.  But not. . . because then it begins speeding along the gutter racing with me as I am pedaling downhill!  I have to laugh out loud, seriously, I'm racing with a lizard!  I thought our race would be short-lived, or at least that I would win, but for a least a good block, the lizard kept pace and didn't give up until it rounded the corner and finally rested.  Who knew the determination, speed and zeal of the lizard?

I love the creatures in our world, each distinct, each with a story.  The lizard lesson is that great gains and strides can be made, even with your personal limitations.  You may have small legs and body mass a minutiae of your foe, but speed can still be your strength as you surprise your competition.   Determination can empower you to not give up, especially if you run the race as if it were your last.   Camouflage can provide protection and rest, as the deer taught me that day when it blended with the brush.  Pausing and reflection is the rejuvenation of the soul.  And yes, in each aspect of life, from danger and fear, to challenge and change, to rest and reflection, comes the voice "it is I."

I need to hear that voice, His voice.  I am grateful that in the midst of my days, I am reminded of that voice.  Yes, I often seem to be listening better when I'm riding solo on my bike.  I find myself mulling over the words I've read in His Word.  Then it seems, a reminder is given to me through the beauty of his creatures.  None is too small to fascinate me.  You have to be looking to see them, for often they are silent and hidden.  But like the great mystery of I AM Himself, He is right there before me, reminding me "it is I."

"And the sea began to be stirred up because a strong wind was blowing.  When therefore they had rowed about three or four miles, they beheld Jesus walking on the sea and drawing near to the boat; and they were frightened.  But He said to them 'It is I; do not be afraid."

John 6:18-20