You can’t bargain with luck or argue with luck. Can’t go
eye-to-eye or toe-to-toe with it. I throw on a favorite jersey, short and that
comfortable pair of socks. There are a variety of socks I wear cycling and
certain ones I wear most of the time.
Part comfort, part tradition. Here’s an embarrassing confession. Some
socks feel luckier than others.
I’m rational. Intellectual. There’s no luck. So why, when
my wife says, “Don’t get killed out there,” do I think I’m more likely to die
today? How is it that a mug, a shirt, pair of socks, a pen go from utilitarian
to idol? And idol it is.
“Who even comes close to being like God? To whom or what
can you compare him? Some no-god idol? Ridiculous! It’s made in a workshop,
cast in bronze, given a thin veneer of gold, and draped with silver filigree…” Giving
luck a hat-tip belittles God and dehumanizes me. When I have a good day on the
bike it’s because I’ve trained well. The muscle that turns the pedals, the
blood carrying oxygen to muscle, the tires that hold air, the driver seeing
me…all God.
Luck doesn’t have a face. Or heart. I give to it a face like a little plastic
tchotchke or imbue it with ‘energy’. How silly. We are impacted, and impact,
the living. God has a face; bloodied and scarred. Friends and neighbors; faces
all. If it feels like bad luck came calling; deal with the circumstances. When ‘good
luck’ happens in bolt or streak; identify the reality of the event. Then
celebrate with those individuals involved—face-to-face. Through it all give
thanks to the God that blesses and makes His face shine upon us.
