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I love riding my bike.

I love the feeling of exertion…knowing that my muscles are pushing their energy through pedals, through gears, through chains…propelling wheels into motion.

Into distance.

Into tangible accomplishment.

Sometimes, it feels like – given enough time – I could ride on and on down any available open road.

Having said that, there is nothing like coming home after a long ride. That last mile…that last turn…that last squeeze of the brakes.

Pulling in to a stop.

Anticipating the out-of-breath step through my own door…into my own space…

Anticipating rest.

The past couple of years have felt a bit like a long, exhausting ride…but not in the good sense.

There have been lots of hills, lots of curves, lots of draining distances, lots of desiring to return to a place of rest. Much of the time it has felt like pedaling in the wrong gear…lots of spinning and not much to show for the effort.

Things seem different now, however.

Now, it feels like I have regained that sense of destination. Like I have reestablished my bearings…my purpose in pressing forward. The journey is an altogether different experience when you know you have something wonderful to which you will return.

Love has changed everything for me.

In the past two years, I have never doubted that I am loved. My family, my friends and, most of all, my Savior…their love has never failed. But, in my human need for connection, I have desired a different kind of love. I have desired the connection of romance.

And, now that I have found that connection, every step seems sweeter. Every mile seems full of promise. Every turn of my wheels seems to lead me back to a place of joy and fulfillment.

Back to a place of rest.

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