Faith With Bumpers

Yesterday I went bowling with my family, something I really enjoy doing...but not because I'm good at it. Quite the opposite. I am terrible. And when I say terrible, I mean it. The last time I bowled, I got a 24. No typo, I literally got a 24 out of 300. Not one of my proudest moments, if I do say so myself.
So you can imagine how excited I was when I beat my brothers with a score of 112! I had trumped my previous score by almost a whole three digits! Despite my excitement, I knew I needed to take a slice of humble pie. I had beaten a thirteen- and a nine-year-old. Not someone my age. Also, we had used bumpers on the lanes. The only reason why I had gotten a 112 was because we had, essentially, taken the easy way out. If we hadn't used those metal bars of glory, I would've been walking out of that place with a 24 again.
Of course, we still had a blast. I don't have a competitive bone in my body, so although it did feel good to win, it was humbling to know that I had a little support to help me out and that I had two younger people playing against me. But would the game have been better without the bumpers? Most likely not, because we all would have been rolling more gutter balls than spares and strikes. Or, in my case, six or seven pins max at a time.
That's how it is with faith. I recently completed La Vida, where I canoed about 40 miles, stank for 12 days, used leaves for toilet paper, battled blood-thirsty mosquitoes (I lost count after 50), and fasted in solitude. I could have taken the easy way out on that trip. I could have easily said, "Let me do this on my own. I don't need God's help." That would have been me rolling those gutter balls, when I clearly knew that no matter how hard I tried, if I didn't have some outside support, I would never get higher than a 24. Or a 10. Probably a 10.
On La Vida, I gave myself wholeheartedly over to God. I allowed him to be my bumper. I put my trust in Him that when I woke up in that tent--or mostly on the ground--every morning, He would be there to steer me in the right direction. He gave me many a spare and a strike on that trip, and I knew it was because I allowed myself to let Him in. The game is always better when you let God be your bumper.