By Joseph Olson
My favorite adventures often begin with wheels and no planned direction. We go down the driveway and whichever way the first bike turns, that’s the way we go. Dad’s wheels with a trailer bike attached for the 3-year-old, one spider man bike and “gear bikes” for the 7- and 9-year-old.
One time we took a left out of the driveway, down past the tennis courts, around the park and to the hill steep enough that there is no reasonable return from the reverse direction. Really, the only sensible way back is a five-mile winding path across the river, back into downtown and up the quarter-mile high bridge.
A quick inventory yielded half a pack of trident gum and one full water bottle. The kids asked if we could continue on, not realizing what they were asking. I happily obliged. We had no timeline or otherwise scheduled event.
Down the hill we went, wind blowing in our hair, having an absolute ball. We wound around unfamiliar bike paths, getting knowing winks and nods from passers-by as they dodged out of the way of our not-very-quiet crew busting down the black top.
As each child, one by one, realized we were a ways from home and felt pangs of hunger and thirst, the inevitable questions started to come. “I’m hungry. Do we have any snacks?” “My legs are tired. Can we stop for a break?” “How are we getting home?”
“Well,” I answered, “unless we’re going back up that insane hill behind us, we’ll have to cross the river and head to downtown.”
The 7-year-old quickly assessed the situation. “Dad,” she said, “you did it again. You have us on one of your crazy adventures.”
I offered up $20 at the next gas station, and the pedals started to push a little faster and we soon reached a Holiday gas station that is a haven for professional snackers. We refueled, pushed through a few tough hills and then stopped at a family-friendly restaurant on the river with an open-air sitting area and lawn games – the perfect distraction.
The final test: the quarter-mile uphill High Bridge to bring us home. All in all, the trip spanned seven miles and about three and a half hours. Bedtime came early that evening without a peep or protest.
We still talk about that adventure as an “epic” ride. It opened up a world of possibilities for us when we discovered how far we could push ourselves.
Theology of the body calls us to love as God loves, in a way that is full, faithful, total and fruitful. The unstructured play and discovery time we carve out for our children is where we find them truly learning, finding their own limits and boundaries. God guides us through our desires, imagination and curiosities when we are free of an agenda and open to skinned knees.
A childhood that has lots of fresh air and freedom built into it seems more full, more fruitful – and even more faithful. This summer, watch how God becomes present through play. And don’t forget the snacks!