At first I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. 
He was out there sort of like the president. I recognized his picture when I saw it, but I didn’t really know him.
But later on when I recognized my higher power, it seemed as though life was rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike, and I noticed that God was in the back helping me pedal.
I don’t know just when it was that he suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since . . . life with my higher power, that is. God makes life exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring but predictable. It was the shortest distance between two points.
But when he took the lead, he knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places and at breakneck speeds; it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, he said “Pedal.”
I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer and I started to learn to trust.
I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I’d say, “I’m scared,” he’d lean back and touch my hand.
He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance and joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey, our journey, God’s and mine.
And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away; they’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received and still our burden was light.
I did not trust him at first, in control of my life. I thought he’d wreck it. But he knows bike secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, jump to clear high rocks, fly to shorten scary passages.
And I am learning to be quiet and pedal in the strangest places, and I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, my higher power.
And when I’m sure I just can’t do any more, he just smiles and says “Pedal.”
I love this essay sent to me by a friend. Author Unknown.