So someone stole my fixed-gear black track bike, my $400 Bianchi Pista, off my porch last night. I had the bike for a little over a year, and for most of that time it was my only bike. I rode it everywhere. I got comments from everyone who saw it, and I was pretty proud of it. My porch is enclosed and there’s no way to see it from the street, so I can only assume that the person who took it knew that the bike was there. Maybe it was even someone I know. This sense of premeditated violation is I guess what bugs me the most. It wasn’t some impulsive action brought on by seeing a nice bike on the street - that’s still not very nice but is a little easier to deal with. This was planned out. I’ve never had anything remotely valuable stolen form me (the last thing I can remember was my Razor scooter in tenth grade), so this is kind of a first for me. I hope my bike is OK, and that the new owner is treating it well.
I should have every right to be mad about it, right? After all, it was a relatively expensive purchase and I loved the bike. And someone DID violate my personal space, as they had to open a door to get on my porch. Someone took something that wasn’t theirs, and I should be mad about it. I lost a monetary investment and a mode of transportation. I also lost my opportunity to ride on the velodrome in Blaine in the conceivable future.
On the other hand, though, I had a nice bike that I didn’t deserve that I bought with money from a job that I didn’t deserve. It was a nicer bike than I needed to have. Taking it to race on the track is a luxury in which few people in the world can afford to indulge. Riding brakeless around the city was a youthful passion rather disregarding of the perilous position into which I was placing myself. Spending $400 on a bike probably wasn’t the best use of the resources that God has given me. God gave, I enjoyed, and God took away. I guess I don’t see how any righteous indignation on my part is in order.
More importantly, perhaps, the bike was a source of pride for me. I was proud that I could afford it. I was proud with how well I could ride it. I was proud with how clean I kept it. Like I said, it elicited many compliments from those around me, which made me feel good. With every, “Hey, nice bike!” I heard I secretly added, “Wow, you are pretty cool to have such a good taste in bikes!”
And see, that is completely untrue. I didn’t even know what a fixed-gear bike was when I bought my Pista. I just knew that if I spent $400, I could get a good bike. It wasn’t a conscious decision to end up with the bike I did. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me from soaking up praise.
But perhaps God wanted me to have the bike? What if God was blessing me with it? Maybe He was, but I certainly wasn’t humble about it. As author and pastor John Piper puts it, our purpose in life is to magnify the glory and supremacy of Jesus Christ to the world - to be lights that show how infinitely worthy Christ is. If Christ blesses me, it is to show that He is an infinitely glorious God worthy of all my praise and so much more. Is owning nice things like a Bianchi bike bad? No. But when was the last time God was glorified because I rode a Bianchi? I’m ashamed to say, probably never.
So like I said before, God gave, I enjoyed, and God took away. I have nothing to be angry over. God did it for a reason, and I believe that that reason is in my best interest, even if I don’t understand it right now. That’s part of what makes God so great, though - that He is able to work for my good in ways that don’t make sense or are even painful for me.
But perhaps part of God’s plan is me getting my bike back, in which case, if you know anything about it, please let me know. I would really like it back._DZ