This past week Vicki and I spent part of our vacation riding motorcycle in the Black Hills. Keeping in mind Erin’s article from a couple weeks ago, we set out on Monday morning with no other plan or agenda than to ride. We hopped on Highway 244 west; then took Highway 385 south. When we arrived in Custer City, we came to a crossroads which required a choice of three options, either continue south on 385 to Hot Springs, turn left on Highway 16A to Custer State Park, or turn right on Highway 16 which would take us west and then north into Wyoming.
Being unfamiliar with the area, we decided to turn right, and headed west out of town. When we got to the edge of town we encountered something rather unusual; a police car and another car were stopped right in the middle of the highway and the two individuals were just talking to each other. I thought, okay, that’s how they do it “out west” and proceeded to pass by on the side. After accelerating and reaching the speed limit, I looked in my mirror only to find the policeman was following me—with his flashing lights on!
After pulling over, I first thought to myself, oh what a friendly policeman; he wants to visit with me too…NOT! I thought the same thing you would; I thought, what did I do wrong. After getting out of his car, he started walking towards us and he quickly began reassuring me that I had done nothing wrong. He then proceeded to inform us that if we intended to travel into Wyoming we would encounter an eleven mile stretch where they had removed the asphalt surface and it was now loose gravel. He then suggested we take another route, because over the weekend, eleven motorcyclists had “gone down” on the gravel.
I politely thanked him for the warning; he got back in his car, turned around and headed back to town. Then I began thinking to myself, what does he know. And who is he to stop me from enjoying a trip into Wyoming; what’s a little gravel? And as far as the motorcyclists who went down, the poor saps probably just didn’t know how to ride. And so with Vicki pleading with me to turn back, I set out to prove both of them wrong. Nothing’s going to stop me, I thought to myself.
Well, would you know it, we weren’t more than a mile down the gravel road and we wiped out, both of us sliding and rolling down the gravel road. Bumps and bruises and skin being rubbed off like sandpaper removing old paint. Pieces of motorcycle were busted off and laying all over… Okay, wait, stop, back up!! I was just kidding about the last two paragraphs. We really didn’t keep going. Of course we turned around. We were so thankful that the policeman had warned us of the impending danger and so we chose another route and had a very enjoyable ride.
I’m sorry if I startled you, but the whole incident reminded me of the story told in Jeremiah 6:10-19 where God called his people to repent, but they refused (it’s worth reading). Verse sixteen has become a favorite of mine. It goes like this, “This is what the Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.”
Although I still lack humility and obedience, I feel I’m growing in submission to the Spirit’s warnings and instructions. I hope you are too. My prayer is that both you and I will faithfully choose to walk where the way is good—where you and I find peace and rest as we follow the way, the truth, and the life. If not, right now would be a great time to turn around.
Grace to you, and peace, Mike