Reflections from Iowa

The Iowa Evangelistic Biking Trip was one of the most physically grueling and spiritually beneficial experiences of my life. I loved almost every minute of it! Upon reflection, there are several important lessons I learned over the course of a week that saw us bike nearly 500 miles and converse with dozens of people who do not know the Lord Jesus Christ. Some of my reflections have to do with evangelism in particular, while others are spiritual and life lessons that the Lord opened my eyes to along the way.

Perhaps the most important lesson I learned while pounding the Iowa pavement into submission is that I am incredibly small. It’s true, I am not even five and a half feet tall, but that is not what I mean. Each morning of the trip my sweet wife and I would wake between 5:15 and 5:30. We would pack our camping gear into the van as the sun was breaking through the horizon and the grass was still soaked with dew. As we climbed on to our bikes, again and again, all awareness of time seemed to be removed from my mind. The morning part of the rides were crowded. I felt like I was in the middle of a school of fish swimming up stream. We simply peddled along, quickly riding out of town and into the endless Iowa corn fields. It seemed like just a blink of an eye and the first ten miles were already done, my mind had been lost gazing at the fields and weaving in and out of the massive crowds. There is nothing quite like the combination of a large crowd and the vastness of creation to make you feel small and insignificant. I often live under the illusion that I am extremely important and indispensable. Certainly, all human beings are valuable. We are created in the image of God and those who have been redeemed through faith in Christ are children of the Father. We are valuable indeed. However, we are at the same time so small and insignificant. Where were we when God laid the foundations of the universe and the plains of Iowa? History is like a movie and I am not the main character. I am but an insignificant extra in the story of our great God. Riding through Iowa reminded me of his grandeur and sovereignty and it reminded me how foolish I am to worry and be anxious. God is big, I am small and my future hope is certain in Christ. Iowa taught me the joy of being tiny.

Another lesson the Lord taught me in Iowa is the incredible importance of kindness. I went to Iowa to talk to people about Jesus. I make no apology for that. The 500 miles was just a leg-thrashing detail. As I sought to engage folks in conversation and talk to them about the love that God extends to us in Christ I was reminded how important it is to simply be kind to people. Most of us are too busy or to proud to be very nice. We have way too much to do to bother with kindness. It was incredible to see how open people are to hearing about Christ once they are shown basic kindness. The people on my team were genuinely interested in each and every person with whom they spoke. This sort of simple kindness opened countless doors for the gospel to be explained, especially on the day that we rode sixty-five miles in a torrential down pour. Most of us were tempted to be pretty crabby that day.

I learned another important lesson while trying to ride 88 miles on a day that had a heat index of 105 degrees. Actually, I learned two lessons that day. The first is that water is a miracle. The second is how encouraging it can be to other Christians to see someone sharing their faith. On this particularly horrendous day I was riding along talking to anyone I could and happened upon two sisters. They were both Christians and desperately wanted to see their third sister come to know Christ. They, however, felt inadequate to share Christ with their sister because she is a successful doctor and they are so imperfect. I explained to them that it is more often the way we handle difficulties, not great victories, that speak volumes about our God and our faith. The rest of the conversation is a little bit of a blur because I was focused on simply staying conscious, but apparently what I said and the fact that I was out sharing my faith was a great encouragement to these two women. Iowa taught me that boldness is encouraging and contagious.

The final lesson I learned in Iowa is that Iowa is not flat. It just isn’t, I don’t care what you say. It may feel flat in a car, but when you are in the saddle of a bicycle four to seven hours a day for seven days straight it might as well be the Rockies. Now please excuse me, I have some icing to do.