Real Church. Real Life. Real Celebration.

I recently found myself taking a trip down memory lane. My mind went back to the mysterious world of second grade.

It has been more years than I care to admit since I was in the second grade. However, I learned some valuable lessons at the ripe old age of seven that I still put to use today.

I learned that the Shirley Temple curls my grandma insisted on putting in my hair every morning were always going to be an embarrassment to me.

I learned that if you are feeling sick, don’t eat the hotdog. It will not end well.

Every morning Mrs. Beatha would begin our class with a story. That was  my favorite time of the  school day.

One story has stuck with me all of these years.  It is the story of an old bicycle shop.

The story tells of a little boy who had a bicycle he loved. One day he discovered it had a flat tire .He pushed  it down the street where the bicycle shop was. His friends told him that the old man there was really good at fixing flat tires, or any other bike emergency.

The little boy pointed out his problem to the old gentleman who assured him he knew just what to do. He even showed the little boy other bikes he had repaired waiting for his friends to pick up.  The little bike owner began his walk home. At first he felt good about leaving his bike with the old man. He was skipping along, thinking about how great it was going to be to be able to enjoy riding again! It was going to be good as new! Then, other thoughts began to come into his mind. What if the man didn’t really know how to fix his bike? Did he really fix all of those other bikes?  Were the stories he had heard of the old man fixing things just made up?

He even began asking himself why his tire went flat. Even if his tire was repaired, would it just go flat again?  Why should he believe it could ever be any different?

He went running back to the bicycle shop before it closed.  The old man tried to convince the little boy to leave the bike with him. He asked him to give him a chance to prove he could in fact fix it.  The little boy refused to listen. His mind was made up.

Reflecting back on this kids story, I found that in it was a valuable lesson for us all.

How many times have we taken things to God, just to turn around and try to fix it in our own fleshly ways?  I am not always patient. I find myself not giving God time to answer my prayers. Not allowing him to move in my behalf.  I have to learn to trust God more to fix my broken situations.

I have to admit that I have been dragging some “flat tires” of my own around for too long.

Who would have thought that such lessons could be learned in the second grade?  I am thankful for Mrs. Beatha, and the story of the old bicycle shop.

~ Connie Robinson


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