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In their hearts, humans plan their course,
but the LORD establishes their steps.
Proverbs 16:9 (NIV)

When my friend told me she had a two-seater motorcycle, I knew that meant an extra seat behind the driver.

But somehow, in my mind, I pictured a sidecar.

Either way, a ride sounded like fun. The last time I had been on a motorcycle, I was sixteen, riding on my boyfriend’s dirt bike through wooded paths. I remember the wind on my face, the laughter, and the joy of holding on tight. Until my father saw him pull into the driveway with me on the back, and just like that, my motorcycle riding days were over.

So when my friend offered, I eagerly said yes. But it is funny how the mind plays tricks on us. Even after seeing her bike, I still walked away imagining a sidecar. I think my mind wanted that because it felt safer.

Isn’t that the way we are?

We build our lives with a picture in mind. We marry the love of our lives and imagine growing old together. Morning coffee, daily conversations, traveling with friends, and sharing life side by side. We know, somewhere deep down, that life does not come with guarantees. But we still picture the sidecar.

When my friend pulled the cover off her motorcycle, reality hit. There was no sidecar. I had seen that bike before, but somehow my mind had rewritten it into something safer.

I felt both excitement and anxiety. I looked for a seatbelt.

There was not one.

Just a backseat and something small to hold onto. I thought, “I guess I am hanging on for dear life.”

Isn’t that what it feels like when our husband passes away?

The life we built, the one that felt steady and shared, is suddenly gone. What we always knew could not last forever is taken from us much sooner than we imagined.

The sidecar is gone.

Now we are in the backseat, gripping tightly, trying to find our balance again.

Proverbs 16:9 (NIV) reminds us that,

“in their hearts humans plan their course,
but the LORD establishes their steps.”

I trusted my friend. She had years of experience and knew exactly what she was doing.

And if I could trust my friend to handle that motorcycle, how much more can I trust my Creator with every part of my life?

He does not ask us to simply endure our loss. He invites us into something more. An abundant life, even here. Even now.

The ride started out easy. We cruised through her neighborhood, the sun warm on my arms and the wind gentle on my face. I laughed and thanked her again and again.

Then she turned onto a main road and picked up speed. Suddenly, I was very aware that there was nothing between me and the pavement but my grip.

My friend kept asking, ” You are okay, right?”

I told her the truth. “I am a little anxious, but I am working through it.” I reminded myself that she knew what she was doing.

It took me back to that first year after losing my husband. I was determined not just to exist but to live a full life, even with half of me torn away.

People checked on me often. “Are you okay?” I would answer honestly, “I am broken, but I trust the Lord.”

My friend turned onto a higher speed road. As she accelerated, she called back instructions to squeeze my legs to help hold on.

I followed her lead. The speed was exhilarating, but the fear was real.

So I prayed. Quietly, steadily, I fixed my eyes ahead and held on.

That is how I made it through those early years after my husband passed. Holding tight to God’s promises and keeping my eyes on the path in front of me.

At one point, the overwhelm caught up with me, and I told my friend.

She understood immediately and slowed down, letting other vehicles pass.

It reminded me how many times I have done the same with the Lord. I tell Him when it feels like too much, and He meets me with peace, with help, slowing just enough to keep going.

That is what life with Him looks like.

Not just surviving, but living. Fully, abundantly, and with purpose.

We do not need the comfort of a sidecar to be safe.

We need to be honest, trust the One who leads us, and keep our eyes ahead.

And little by little, learn to enjoy the ride.

Lord, when life feels uncertain, and I find myself holding on tightly, remind me that my true security is in You alone. When the road feels overwhelming, help me trust that You are guiding every step. Give me courage to move forward, peace in the unknown, and joy along the way. Teach me to live fully again, with my eyes fixed on You. Amen.