No More Driving Miss Daisy

It's time.  It has to be done.  This thing must be let go of.

Really?  I mean, I don't mess with it much.  Can't I just keep it for "once in a while times" if I promise to be really careful?  

Hmn mn.  You know the damage it can cause.

But I love this!  It's been a part of my life for so long.  Don't make me give it up!

I'm not making you, child.  This is your choice.  You know the grief it causes, can cause, and the results from the desire you feel towards this.  But again, love, I'm not making you do anything.

Free will?  Then why do I feel so...conflicted?  If I'm sure it isn't causing any harm, why should I let go of it?  I mean, seriously, I hardly ever fool with it.  I'm not hurting anyone when I use it.  Does it really have to go, Lord?!

Ahh, saying goodbye is never an easy thing, is it?  Whether it's to an old friend, an old home, habit, or hindrance, letting go is sometimes the hardest thing we humans must do in order for our walks to be propelling us forward as we leave behind those things that have been holding us back and causing us to stumble and trip over as we endeavour to move ahead.  Sometimes the loss is tangible-- such as when the object of our desire is physical--while other times the loss is so deep that though its disappearance isn't visible to the naked eye, the hole left behind is devastating.

Tonight, my husband is out on Miss Daisy, taking one final pleasure ride, before he takes her to be sold tomorrow.  It's bittersweet for us both, mostly bitter for him and sweet for me.  He knows the angst I feel each time he takes her out.  And yeah, he doesn't abuse the privilege of riding a motorcycle but those other drivers?  The ones who aren't focused on him?  Whose thoughts are on any and everything else other than his safety?  Those are the ones we fret over and have to look out for.  Those are the ones who cause me to stumble, to fear, and to worry until I get the call that he has arrived at his destination safely.

Now, just to avoid any confusion, having a motorcycle is not a sin.  It is not a case of poor judgment nor is it a death sentence.  However, riding it to work each day is a detriment to my sanity.  Having to be on constant pins and needles because of the worry felt when I hear the stories of the close calls--not to mention the stories I don't hear from my sweet son-in-love who is a Paramedic and has to answer far too many calls where the cyclist didn't come out so well in accidents that were mostly caused by other drivers--grieves me to no end.

Until tonight, that is.  Tonight my heart is surging with hope that those days are over.  While I fully trust my Lord to keep my husband safe in every situation he will encounter, it's so much easier without this magnet for stress that attracts too many would-be scenarios to dance around in my head.

To bring this all together, while my husband's bike-riding has weakened my trust, my faith is still strong.  God has and will take care of him and whatever He allows in Steve's life is for his good.

Even now, I hear the rumble in the distance as he approaches our drive.  Sigh.  I'm so sorry that he has to give up his bike.  She's been a gas-saver, a source of fun, and a release from some of the chaos that built in my dear hubby's mind from the hard days at work as he drove off on her and allowed the wind to carry his thoughts far away and to just enjoy being one with nature.  I know it's hard for him to say goodbye to Miss Daisy.  He'll have one last ride tomorrow as he takes her away.  For good.  For good.  My good.  His good.  And hopefully, to whomever buys her.