Ride

June 29, 2019

A clear mind and peaceful heart can be hard to come by, but a backroads motorcycle ride on a beautiful summer morning has for me  a unique ability to open the door to both. My friend Ken is renovating a house just over the border in Pennsylvania and has finally gotten to the part where he’s ready to lay tile—my specialty. I love cutting and laying tile, and don’t understand those who think of it as an ugly chore. I like the feel of the tile itself, cool and smooth to the touch; the ease with which the blade on the tile saw slices the hard and brittle squares, figuring out the special cuts needed on occasion, laying down the hardee board, mixing the thinset, and floating the grout. Some guys like tearing into motors. I like tile.

It was a good and productive day. Piece by piece, we brought the hardee board in and laid out the pattern on the floor. In spite of the heat and humidity, we hardly disturbed Mr. Garter Snake nestled in the pallet on which the boards had laid, mixed the thinset, and managed to lay and nail two thirds of the underlayment before calling it quits late in the afternoon. Not bad for a couple guys eligible for the senior discount at Tim’s.

But it was the drive down and back that fed my soul today. Sometimes the Scripture reading for the day just doesn’t resonate with me, but today’s ride stirred me deep within. As I rode, I thought of how incredibly blessed I am to live where I do, surrounded by beauty, family, and wonderful people in my life. I am almost 70, a privilege not granted to all; I am in good enough health that I take no prescription medication, have been spared so much of the heartache and drama that is an everyday occurrence for many. So I gave thanks and prayed, offering my blessing to people I know and even ones I’ve not met. The giving of thanks ordered my priorities and my heart, scattering worry and fear, leaving only peace and joy.