Don't Say I Love You Unless You Mean It

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." Jessica, age 8

"Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones."

Proverbs 16:24

Kids are different from when I was young. I learned to ride a bike at 5. I drove a motorcycle to work at 13 and was driving a car at 15. I think it's because we were always on the go.

To get to the sandlot baseball field you had to ride your bike. I rode it everywhere. Through woods, up hills, around rocks and quite often into streams.

I can't express in words the glee you'd have after a rain and you could ride through a mud puddle.

So when the boys got older I wanted them to have the same kind of thrill of riding I had as a kid. We lived in a parsonage with a huge field out back. The perfect place for riding.

My youngest tried. He hopped on, and I held onto the back of the seat. I said, "All right I'm going to be right by you, helping to steady the bike."

"OK, Daddy" he said through gritted teeth.

He really didn't want to learn.

We took off with me pushing and him shakily trying to keep the handlebars straight.

We were doing really well too.

Until the bike started going faster than I could run.

So I let go.

Immediately the bike fell over and he went tumbling off.

He scraped his knee and elbow and had enough so we went back in so Mommy could doctor him up.

One night while the kids were watching Pokemon in the living room and I was working on a term paper, I decided to go get some more tea.

I walked into the kitchen and heard something in the garage. I knew what the sound was but for the life of me couldn't figure why I was hearing it.

My wife was reading in the living room so I knew it couldn't be her.

I opened the garage and there was my youngest. He was sitting on top of the exercise bike pedaling as fast as his little legs could go.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm learning to ride a bike," he said with the determination only a little boy of 6 could have.

I told him that if he wanted to learn then we could get the bikes out and practice.

"No thanks, Daddy" he said. "This one doesn't fall over."

For a lot of us in life, the church pew is our exercise bike.

We want to stay in the safety of a place that we know we won't fall over. We're afraid that if we get out into the world then tough things may get in our way.

Trees may stop our witnessing.

Rocks may twist our handlebars.

Potholes may upset our pedaling.

But if we really want to learn to live a full abundant life ... the kind of life God has planned for us, then sometimes we have to stop just turning our wheels and learn how to go.

Let us pray.

Dear God. We ask this day that you will help us to overcome our fears. Help us to see the world through your eyes and let us be the hands and feet of Christ for a world in need of redemption. In Christ's name we pray. Amen.

PASTOR TROY CONRAD IS MINISTER OF THE FARMINGTON UNITED METHODIST CHURCH.