It’s a July day in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I walk into the old building with my father. The room is dark and smells of oil and metal. Everywhere I look I see wheels, spokes and bicycle parts. One of the brothers, the skinny one is working on a bike and doesn’t even notice us as we walk by. The other one, obviously older and somewhat hunched over wearing well-worn blue-grey work clothes looks kindly at us and with a European accent asks, “Can I help you find something?”

I answer with understandable excitement in my voice, “I have already found it!” He smiles a knowing smile having seen me enter the shop at least 5 to 6 times in the last week looking for that one special bicycle that will be mine. I am 14 years old, and my used Schwinn Roadmaster that I purchased with my own hard-earned lawn mowing money is wearing out.

My father says that it is unlikely that I will be able to afford a car any time soon and agrees that I have earned the opportunity to have a brand new bicycle. The yellow tag clipped to the handlebars of one of the bikes reads in big black numbers: “$37.00, and above it with a line running through it: $40.00.” To my delight the price is reduced, a helpful negotiating point with my father. He is providing the down payment, and I will pay the rest from odd jobs.
“Here Papa, this is the one,” I say stroking the colorful plastic streamers hanging from the handlebar grips. The bike is a bright dark red color, shiny and new! I can’t wait to ride it home. My father talks with the older brother and signs the paperwork.

“Do you want me to put your bike in the trunk?” he asks. “No Papa, I want to ride it home!” “Of course,” he smiles, “just be careful of traffic.” Now the other brother, who seemed unaware of our presence, walks over to the bike and carefully maneuvers it past dozens of bikes, boxes and tools and meanders his way to the front door.

The bright sun hurts my eyes for a moment, but in no time I am on my new ride and happily peddling home. “Gosh…she is even faster than I had imagined!”

I think as the wind rushes through my hair. This is living! I have been coming to this place for weeks dreaming of this day for such a long time. Something about the waiting and longing is very precious and sweet. Looking back it is obvious to me that the anticipation was for all its pain a good thing.

But I remember something else. About the brothers that is. The word in the community of the day was that they were very different and eccentric. Their clothes were worn and oily from their long hours in the shop. One of them never spoke, the other rarely. They seemed for all intents and purposes to not be making much profit for all of their work. The old building was drafty and dark. The paint had long ago faded and weathered off of the outside walls defying anyone to identify what color the walls had once been. There was no floor inside the building save the hard packed black dirt from years of foot traffic.

When the brothers eventually died and the shop was closed, it apparently went into local government receivership. Neither brother had ever married. When it was decided that the building had to be razed to everyone’s amazement and surprise, hundreds of thousands of dollars were found in the walls of that bicycle shop. Apparently over the years the frugal brothers for whatever reason had stashed brown paper bags full of cash into the walls of their beloved shop. Why? No one will ever know.

But I do know this. Many of us sadly live our lives
postponing and deferring that which would bring us joy and grace…just because we are so bound up with the pressures and expectations of our lives. Allowing this causes life to pass us by, and the “someday” that we are planning for may never come.

To me the lesson is this: Instant gratification and having everything “right now,” is not the answer. My longing and waiting for that brand new bicycle is one of the sweetest memories from my childhood. A memory rendered meaningless if I had simply received the bike the moment I wanted it. On the other hand, deferring something precious to a time that may never be ours…is a loss of the only thing we truly have in life.

The “right now.” This moment. As we begin this new school year, with God’s help and guidance, let us pledge to use it wisely….and with grace!

Pastor Janis, Aina and our girls.