Fear of Falling

1972. It was Christmas morning of my fourth grade year. I was given a brand new banana seat bicycle with streamers. This was the year I was finally going to learn to ride my bike. Fear of falling had stopped me short of ever riding on two wheels. While all the other kids were riding to school, I kept my little secret.

After presents were all opened, my daddy and I took her outside. An unusually warm Christmas, there was no need to put a jacket on. I grabbed the tall upright handles and walked the bike down the driveway. I lined it up next to the curb. The seat was adjusted so that I could sit on the bike and put one foot on the curb. Leaning in I propped my left foot on the pedal. “Now push off and keep looking straight ahead”, Daddy said. He knew if I looked down or slowed, the bike would wobble and fear would win. So I pushed off pedaling fast, fear and excitement went through me. “Don’t look down” I whispered to myself.  For fear of stopping too fast, I  slowed down enough to gently fall to the curb, my right foot out to brace myself. I got off my bike and turn it around and rode back.

Turns took awhile. The curb was my friend.

I have faced many fears since then. But the same questions still pop up in my mind to this day.

What if I fall?

What if I fail?

  I hear my heavenly “Daddy-God” saying, “Keep looking straight ahead and if you look down and feel like you are wobbling,

I will catch you”.