Thursday, August 18, 2011

Not without honor

I love it when it cools down enough that I can do errands using my bicycle. This has been a beastly hot summer, and not at all pleasant biking weather. But this past week, the temperature has stayed below 90, low humidity, and I got my hair cut to a short pixie, all events conspiring to let me run some errands on my bike.

I had to mail a package first, and then head to the drugstore for some suntan lotion for our upcoming last hurrah of summer beach trip. And then, I was done with my errands. The relative coolness of the air beckoned, and as often happens, instead of turning homeward, my bike took over and ferried me off to the Greenway.

"Where are we going?" I asked my bike, "I really need to get back to promoting my book and quizzing Asherel on her school work."
"There will be time for that," my bike said, "Do you realize you barely rode me at all this summer?"
"It was too hot, and it got awfully busy. I had to marry off a son, visit my folks, go to Texas to help my sister, publish my book, promote my book, and edit and publish Comer's book. And then I started working on editing my next book. By the way, I thought it was much better when I first wrote it...."
"That doesn't sound like vacation."
"It was a working vacation."
"Well forget work for the next hour. I am taking you someplace special."
"The Greenway? What makes it special? I've been here thousands of times."
"Have you seen the sunset a thousand times?"
"Is it still special?"
" that you mention it, yes."
"That's the kind of special I mean. The familiar seen with grateful eyes."
"I get where you are going with this, Star."
(I name all my bikes keeps life simple.)

The bike path was nearly empty. I rode happily, and saw nothing of particular note. It was peaceful, and quiet in the dappled forest surrounding my route. It occurred to me that it was just as lovely, in its own way, as the ocean bike paths I would be riding next week.

I have often wondered at Jesus saying that a prophet is unrecognized in his home town. There is something about being very familiar with people, places, and things that makes you no longer see them for what they really are. We take them for granted. They become invisible, uninspiring, unimportant.  I looked around at the beauty of the Greenway, and patted my bike's head. (For those of you who don't think of your bicycle as a horse, that would be the handlebars.)
"Thank you , Star," I said.

Matthew 13:56-58

56 Aren’t all his sisters with us? Where then did this man get all these things?” 57 And they took offense at him.
   But Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own town and in his own home.”
 58 And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith.

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