Today I was home alone.  My family had all gone to run errands in town, and I stayed home to relax.  It was the weekend, after all.  The sun was shining outside.  The air was warm.  The blaring television and blinking computer screen did not satisfy my restlessness.  As I stepped outside and breathed in the crisp winter air, I decided to go on a bike ride.  Only very recently have I learned how to ride a bike, and since then, I've found myself wobbling down the streets of my neighborhood until my legs are too tired to pedal any further. 

In some ways, it is an easy escape from the confinement of my home.  I am free to look around at the rolling countryside and listen to the whispering grass and feel the gentle rays of the sun brush against my arms and face until I feel secure and content. 

Even though I live in a relatively flat city, the small area of my neighborhood is adorned with hills and cliffs and little canyons.  Today, I decided to ride up a particularly steep hill, something exciting to my meager, new-bike-rider skills.  As I tried to force my way up the hill on my little bike, straining against the wind and squinting through the harsh sunlight, I soon wanted to give up and turn back around.  The muscles in my legs were burning and tired, and my breathing felt labored.  I didn't want to struggle.  I wanted to feel relaxed, confident.  I wanted to go back to the smaller hills that I could easily overcome.  I hadn't thought that this would be so hard. 

Sometimes it does seem easier to just give up.  Something hard may be going on in your life, and you just want to say, "Forget it!  It doesn't matter.  I give up."  Even in our faith with the Lord, if something doesn't go our way, it can seem so much easier to just say, "God isn't showing Himself.  He obviously isn't here for me."  But that isn't what God intended for us. 

Imagine if the apostles and the early church decided that Christ wasn't worth it.  What if they chose to give up and stop following Him?  Their lives would have become so much easier.  Their persecutors would have left them alone.  And we would not know the truth about Christ today.  However, they realized that God was worth the struggle.  He was worth the pain and the persecution and the heart break. 

When you are enduring something difficult in your life, do not let yourself give up.  God has a plan for you, and it may take some struggles to get there.  I heard from someone that the depth of your valleys indicate the height of your mountains later on, meaning that the harder times that you face will become greater triumphs in the end.  Do not allow yourself to give up. 

Philippians 3:14 says, "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."  Press on.  Your goal could be to overcome a battle in your life or to be an example to someone who you know is struggling.  Your goal could be to survive just one more day.  Just know that you can do it.  God will not allow you to handle any more than you can bear.  Keep strong.  You do not have to be overcome. 

When I reached the top of the hill, a slow smile stretched across my face.  I made it.  I tried to do something difficult, I struggled, and I made it.  I made it to the top.

And do you know what?  After the long ride up the hill, it took me mere minutes to come back down.  I glided easily on my bike, feeling completely at ease as the breeze brushed my face, and I was finally able to relax once again.  I felt exhilarated, peaceful.  It was all made worthwhile in the end. 

I'd made it.

(In case you were wondering, the pictures are from the day when I first learned how to ride a bike, and not necessarily the experience that I wrote about in this entry.)

Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder how I'd change things if I could go back a few years.  I know it is useless to dwell on the past, but I often do wish that I could go back to when I was thirteen or fourteen years old.  I like to ponder how I'd be different, how I would change things if I knew what I know now.

Two years ago, a friend of mine named Gatlin committed suicide.  It feels weird to say that it's been two years.  It seems like a shorter amount of time that that.  Gatlin and I were friends for around three years before he died.  While we were friends, we would sometimes have casual conversations about suicide and death.  I was depressed.  He was depressed.  I thought that it was natural to talk about the the way you feel.  I never thought that he would actually fulfill his word- at least not before I did.  I never told a parent.  I never did anything about it.  When he actually died, we hadn't discussed things like that in months.  I was finally happy.

His death came as a horror and a shock to me.  I felt more guilt than I'd ever felt before in my life.  Why didn't I ever tell anyone?  Why didn't I question him more than I did?  Why did I naturally assume that if he didn't talk about wanting to die, then that meant he was happy too?  My thoughts plagued me more with each passing day. 

If I got the chance to go back three or four years, I would appreciate my friends so much more than I did back then.  I would treasure each moment with Gatlin, and I would also treasure moments with other friends that I lost: friends I lost because of silly fights and arguments that won't ever matter in the grand scheme of things. 

If I could go back, I wouldn't encourage the discussion of death and suicide.  I would talk about life and about Christ and about having a future. 

And most importantly, if I could go back, then I would tell somebody when Gatlin told me the things that he did.  I wouldn't let myself have a reason to blame myself for his death.  In fact, I would do everything I could possibly do to prevent it.  I don't know why I didn't act on his words.  I don't know why I didn't ask for help.  But I didn't, and it's too late to change that. 

If you have a friend that loosely mentions topics like suicide and depression, please don't trust that they're never going to act on their words, because they might.  They could do something that you will regret for the rest of your life.  Tell someone you can trust.  Go to www.suicidehotlines.com and ask someone there for counseling. 

And most of all, please treasure the relationships that you have.  Don't let yourself have reason for regrets.  Love your friends.  You may not have them with you forever.

If you could go back a few years, what would you change?  Would you change anything at all, or do you have no regrets?