Long Live the Granny Gear!

Okay, we made it. We're not done, but we made it through the most difficult part. Gahenna, the valley of death, Sheol, Hades... you get the picture. Yes, I'm talking about Pennsylvania. Last night at 10:00 our team reached its breaking point. Support team members were concerned we were pushing the limits of safety, people were tired, not ever getting more than 3 hrs. sleep at a time, Team Kiwanji (the other four riders) had just gone through more than their share of construction traffic in what amounted to a freeway bypass around Cooperstown, OH. Nerves were shot, emotions were running high. We were looking down the barrel of an all-nighter through the Appalachians on small two-lane winding roads with no shoulder, and while we were all parked outside this closed gas station debating... it began to rain.

The question effectively was "how to proceed?" And their were no shortage of opinions, having several type-A leaders on board. But Joe Johns, associate pastor of Fellowship in Fort Wayne reminded us that how we settle this matter was as important as the peace-building we hope to see happen. In the end humility on all sides won out, we spent time collectively in prayer, and delegated the final decision to three key players on the trip. One rider commented that that moment will be the highlight of the trip for him.

In the end, the decision was made that team Rubare (the team I was on) would continue as planned into the Appalatians with only the chase vehicle continuing. We would be a tight, nimble group, probably not get any sleep all night, and not be concerned about time or pace at all, but just moving forward. We put three bikes on the rack, Joe set out into the night on bike, and the mini-van followed right behind him with a driver and three riders inside.

The advantages to driving at night are: low traffic volume. The disadvantages are: well, you can't see more than 20 feet ahead of you, the roads are unfamiliar, there are drunk drivers (it was Saturday night), you are not extremely visible to other drivers... you get the picture.

And oh yeah, it was raining.
And foggy.

We went up hills that would go up and up and up without any foreseeable end. We passed by a recently overturned 4x4. Twice riders got off and walked. One cramped up. Sometimes we cheated and held on to the chase van's open front window to help pull us up the extra grade. I continually rode in my granny gear (the bottom sprocket on the front cog of my bike), something I never do at home. But consistently we made it to the tops.

And then we had to go down.

Did I mention it was raining?

When you are riding a bike and finally crest a hill and pass by road signs telling trucks to shift into a low gear because of a 14% grade for the next mile and a half you should be elated.

We were terrified.

Bicycle brakes aren't notorious for working well in the rain, and we were about to put ours to the ultimate stress test. Eventually we made it back to saner pastures, breaking into the more rolling foothills of rural Pennsylvania, passing by within three miles of the crash site of Flight 93 on 9/11. We were thankful for a better landing.

It was rigorous and treacherous, but we made it. And by tomorrow at this time, I will be at Hollander Cafe in downtown Wauwatosa on my way home from Mitchel Airport enjoying a Hot Mess (yes, that is on the breakfast menu).

But for many Congolese, their ordeal is far from over. Indeed it may never be over until Jesus, the Prince of Peace comes to renew this Earth. In Matthew 13, Jesus promises in one of my favorite verses that he will come again and "weed out from the earth all who do evil and everything that causes sin." The Shalom of God will prevail and dominate the earth. There will be no more injustice. There will be no more pain. The world will be a safe place for people once again.

But in the meantime, he calls us, his followers to strive for this shalom, to work for it, to pray for it, knowing perhaps that it will never perfectly be manifested outside of the return of the King, but as his subjects we are to demonstrate it in our lives and actions. Jesus said that we are the light of the world (Matthew 5). Light is meant to shine not in light, but in darkness. We are invited to invade and penetrate some of the darkest places with the light of Jesus and his coming Kingdom. There are many dark places to be sure, but the one that has been put on our plate as a community, so to speak, is Eastern Congo. In just a few hours all eight riders will rendezvous 30 miles outside of Baltimore and ride into the city together.
But my prayer is that the Race for Congo is far from over. May the interest and engagement and generosity and prayer and repentance and change in lifestyle continue unabated well into the future.

And may His Kingdom come, and His will be done in Congo, just as it is always done in Heaven.

Peace.
Mike