The Titus 2:4 Project

I learned how to ride a bike when I was about 7 years old. I followed my brother for miles and miles while our mother thought we were home watching cartoons. I spent long days pedaling around my hometown with one of my best childhood friends. I’ve ridden bikes as an adult—even with my children strapped into plastic seats perched above the back wheel. I’ve been comfortable on a bike most of my life. Until now. Now I have a fancy, expensive bike with weird little discs where pedals should be. It has Bluetooth shifting for the gears. This bicycle cost more than my first three cars— combined . Naturally, I got all the right gear: the padded britches, the zip-up jersey with pockets on the back, the padded gloves, the aerodynamic helmet, the blinking LED lights, the phone holder so I can watch my mph and stats on an app… and the pretty shoes with little holes that lock into those funny-looking pedals to help me get more power from each push. So why am I suddenly uncomfortable on ...

Yep...it was a new purse kind of day.  Not a brand new purse, let's just make that clear, in case my wonderful husband happens to read this blog post.  ;) I couldn't help myself...I dumped the entire contents of my purse onto the dining room table.  Seriously? Who needs five lip glosses in their bag?  I put three of them back in my bathroom.  Some used tissues.  Several crumpled receipts.  A bank deposit slip folded in half with a wad of sticky chewing gum stuck in the middle.  11 cents.  Nice.  That'll get me absolutely nothing these days. It was my youngest son's first day back to high school.  I still can't believe he's a Sophomore.  But the fact that I had to get myself out of bed on time and start back to the dull routine of 'normal', was enough to prompt a bit of a starting-over.  Hence the purse dumping. I stood in my closet, looking up at the dozen or so purses collecting dust on the top shel...