Get Off the Ride

We have season passes to King’s Island. My kids love it. My wife Sherry and I love it as well, but we are finding that our bodies react differently to a day at King’s Island than it used to. I am a huge fan of wooden roller coasters. So needless to say, you know what I like: the Beast and the Racer. I love the feel of the wooden coaster. And the Racer is especially cool because of all the camel humps that give you the sensation of coming up out of your seat (for enthusiasts, those are called “negative G’s or G-forces”). However, something has either happened to the Beast or to me over the past few years. By the time I get off the ride, I feel like my stomach, liver, spleen, kidneys, pancreas, and ribs have all played red rover with each other. Talk about getting shook up. As a man, I feel like I need to ride all these rides and show my kids and the world that I can take anything. Bring on the thrills! Bring on the excitement! I ain’t (pardon my Appalachian-American lingo) ‘fraid o’ nut’n! That’s what my head and heart say. But my body says something else. I am finding that after so many rides, I am DONE. I love my kids and wish to continue riding rides with them. I am a man who wants to show he can do anything. But when that little sick feeling in the temples of your head and the pit of your stomach starts to make itself known, it’s time to just get off the ride and call it a day. Roller coasters serve as a great metaphor of life. I have had the privilege of having lots of wonderful conversations with lots of people about how their lives, careers, health, and families are doing. Some of those conversations have been very difficult. There are times when I hear someone share about their life and it sounds like the Vortex with many twists and turns and corkscrews. And what’s worse is that in many of those situations, the person CHOSE to get on that crazy ride. They’ve found themselves wrapped up in a drama like no other, being tossed and turned by volatile relationships, personal addiction, and choices based on selfish desires. It certainly is a ride, but it’s not the kind that provides a safe, enjoyable rush of adrenaline. It’s the kind that is rocky, dangerous, and leads to a life that literally spins out of control. What’s the answer? When the ride of life gets that complex, what possible solution can help? I think the answer may be more simple than most think: GET OFF THE RIDE! Jesus said in Matthew 11, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light,” (vv. 28-30, NIV). Maybe the better way to put it is to change rides! Unbuckle the harness that grips you to a life of hairpin turns that lead to nowhere, step out of that nausea-invoking seat, and exit the ramp. But that’s not all. Yoke yourself to Christ. A yoke was used to collar two oxen together for farm work. Farmers would often yoke a young, inexperienced ox with an older, well-used ox. Just by being connected, the young ox would learn from the older one and become just like him. And eventually, he would be the one that would lead a younger ox. When you step off of your life’s ride and connect yourself to Christ and never leave Him, it’s the most amazing trade ever. Your old life for a new life. He will love you, lead you, grow you, and use you if you let Him. But first, you gotta get off the ride. What’s your choice?