In the Little Moments...
The Disraeli Bridge is the gateway that looms between North Kildonan and the downtown, Winnipeg. Actually, it is two bridges; two very steep bridges, and to me, a winter cyclist, these bridges are obstacles that I dread. I look forward to them just about as much as you would look forward to a very difficult test, or getting up for school on a Monday, or getting your teeth pulled without having your mouth frozen first. I don’t often stray that far from my cozy niche in Osborne village –all my friends live close-by and the bike ride to CMU (where I go to school) is quite flat (though very icy these days). No, I don’t often have to face the monstrous Disraeli. But, the other night, the great and terrible bridge became unavoidable.
I am part of the Mennofolk committee: a group that supports young Manitoban artists that are somewhat connected to the Mennonite church. And we hosted a show at Sam’s Place, which incidentally lies just beyond the Disraeli. I thought about taking the bus there, but for whatever reason I chose to don my three pairs of socks, long johns, big black balaclava, and coat of many layers, and have a pleasant bike ride in the minus 30 degree weather.
By the time I reached the Disraeli, my toes were slightly numb, my legs were burning from the cold, and my eyelashes were coated in a glassy layer of ice and frost that made them feel heavy when I blinked. I was cold (obviously) and I was getting tired. Still, I pulled out my last reserve of energy, and I pedalled as hard as I could, uphill, against the wind. It felt like it took fifteen minutes to get up the bridge- my thighs ached, yet I kept moving them rhythmically, pushing and pushing the pedals until I finally made it to the top.
Once I was at the top, I could see everything: the big dark sky and the river and buildings far in the distance and bunches of trees. I was in the city, but it felt like I was out in nature, alone and free.
And then began the descent downhill. If you have ever pedalled fast while going downhill, you’ll know how I felt. I was going so fast I was almost worried that I would lose control. The cold wind was refreshing in my face. I felt like I was the fastest person in the world; I felt like I was flying.
This gave me momentum, therefore, the second uphill on the next bridge wasn’t so bad, but the second downhill felt much the same as the first. I was flying again, like some strange bird with crisp white frosted eyelashes and wisps of hair.
This whole bridge endeavour took no more than five minutes out of my life; and yet, I have chosen to write about it in this blog as if it were one of the most important things that has happened to me since camp. And, you must be wondering: what does God have to do with any of this?
Well, I have little moments like that all of the time; moments when I have a huge feeling of joy or freedom so deep that I can barely describe it. And in a few days I often forget about them, or store them somewhere in the depths of my memory. But it is in these little moments that I see God the most. Just a small thing, like biking down a bridge in the middle of winter is beautiful to me. And I feel like all beautiful good things come from God. Often, it seems people look for big meaningful moments to experience God, but I think that it is in those little moments, in the moments that I glimpse something small of wonder and beauty, that I see and feel God the most.
-Amanda Abrahams, 2009 Camp Moose Lake Bible Instructor
I am part of the Mennofolk committee: a group that supports young Manitoban artists that are somewhat connected to the Mennonite church. And we hosted a show at Sam’s Place, which incidentally lies just beyond the Disraeli. I thought about taking the bus there, but for whatever reason I chose to don my three pairs of socks, long johns, big black balaclava, and coat of many layers, and have a pleasant bike ride in the minus 30 degree weather.
By the time I reached the Disraeli, my toes were slightly numb, my legs were burning from the cold, and my eyelashes were coated in a glassy layer of ice and frost that made them feel heavy when I blinked. I was cold (obviously) and I was getting tired. Still, I pulled out my last reserve of energy, and I pedalled as hard as I could, uphill, against the wind. It felt like it took fifteen minutes to get up the bridge- my thighs ached, yet I kept moving them rhythmically, pushing and pushing the pedals until I finally made it to the top.
Once I was at the top, I could see everything: the big dark sky and the river and buildings far in the distance and bunches of trees. I was in the city, but it felt like I was out in nature, alone and free.
And then began the descent downhill. If you have ever pedalled fast while going downhill, you’ll know how I felt. I was going so fast I was almost worried that I would lose control. The cold wind was refreshing in my face. I felt like I was the fastest person in the world; I felt like I was flying.
This gave me momentum, therefore, the second uphill on the next bridge wasn’t so bad, but the second downhill felt much the same as the first. I was flying again, like some strange bird with crisp white frosted eyelashes and wisps of hair.
This whole bridge endeavour took no more than five minutes out of my life; and yet, I have chosen to write about it in this blog as if it were one of the most important things that has happened to me since camp. And, you must be wondering: what does God have to do with any of this?
Well, I have little moments like that all of the time; moments when I have a huge feeling of joy or freedom so deep that I can barely describe it. And in a few days I often forget about them, or store them somewhere in the depths of my memory. But it is in these little moments that I see God the most. Just a small thing, like biking down a bridge in the middle of winter is beautiful to me. And I feel like all beautiful good things come from God. Often, it seems people look for big meaningful moments to experience God, but I think that it is in those little moments, in the moments that I glimpse something small of wonder and beauty, that I see and feel God the most.
-Amanda Abrahams, 2009 Camp Moose Lake Bible Instructor
posted by CwM Summer! at
9:26 AM
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