Real Consequences

When I was about nine years old, the next door neighbor's son, who was several years older than I, had a motorcycle--a dirt bike.  He had invited me several times to get on and ride with him.  Mom had warned us to stay away from him and his bike.  "Motorcycles are dangerous.  You'll get hurt." 

My brother, who was 2-1/2 years younger than I was, never feared anything.  In his whole life.  He didn't care if mom said not to ride the motorbike.  He was going to do what he wanted.  He got on the back of the bike and let the neighbor boy ride him around the loop track he'd created on their large lot.  My little brother loved it and prodded me to take a spin too. 

I wanted to fit in, and it did look fun.  I finally accepted a ride.  My first mistake was riding a motorbike with shorts on.  My second mistake was trusting the neighbor to keep me safe.  The ride was a blast.  I loved it.  Getting off the bike, I sustained a muffler burn on my calf. 

Knowing my disobedience would earn a scolding at the very least, and possibly a grounding, I didn't tell mom.  I snuck into the house and pulled my sock down to see the damage.  A large square burn on my inner calf looked awful.  The skin was raw and oozing, surrounded by black.  I taped a piece of tissue over the burn, then pulled my sock up over it to keep it hidden.

Mom never knew.  It eventually healed up, leaving a strange square scar, which has since faded, but this occurrence reinforced my belief that it was my own fault when bad things happened to me.  If I hadn't disobeyed mom, I wouldn't have sustained that muffler burn.

I decided consequences are very real, and I didn't like them much.   Better safe than dead. 

Now I realize some risks are worth taking.  Sometimes we must step out in faith, in boldness, trusting God to keep us safe.  No great thing is accomplished without some risk.