Our Cycling Son: On Being Struck Down But Not Destroyed

I'm sitting in the family minivan, sipping coffee and trying to warm up. In my rear view mirror I see our son cycle past with some cyclocross friends. We're waiting for the start of the Men's 14-18 Horseshoe Scramble cyclocross race here at a former horse farm in Warren NJ, a lovely area of rolling hills. And I am contemplating the resilience of children and the Presence that carries us.

Cyclocross, or CX,  is a kind of bike racing, a sport our son first discovered earlier this year and has embraced with great enthusiasm. Over the summer he worked two jobs, earning enough money to buy himself a cyclocross bike, at discount, for $800. He's spent the fall season racing. 

On Friday, he was hit and knocked into the road by a red SUV while cycling home with a buddy from a McDonalds  in a neighboring town. He was in a crosswalk. He felt unnerved and angry the driver sped off. The trip to the emergency roon revealed he was badly bruised and nothing more. Thank God he was wearing his helmet.


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