Saturday ...

I'd been putting off taking my bicycle back to the shop - despite a strange click in my right pedal and a constant freewheeling sound ... even when I'm not freewheeling - because it would mean using The Roof Rack. I should explain.

I only learned to ride a bicycle in July, at the ripe ol' age of 25. Since then, I've been steadily improving but I'm still confined to parks. So going places with the bike means driving there with it on my beloved's roof rack. The rack itself is fine, even if the idea of standing my precious bicycle up there like that makes me a little queasy from time to time.

The reason I'd been putting off using it is because following a trip for a standard one-month checkup in August, we were metres away from his house (where my bike lives) when he drove under a low roof in order to access an empty parking lot where he wanted to turn around.

To this day I do not understand why he couldn't just pull up wherever, get the bike down and find a proper place later. The roof was just a couple of centimetres too high. All I remember is a loud bang and my shrieking.

Thankfully, it toppled over ON the roof and escaped with a few scratches. It happened so fast and with such force that, had the bike fallen off, it would have probably been a write-off or a very expensive repair job.

I know. It's not a big deal. But my Marianne Dashwood tendencies mean nothing is always Something.

So I'd been dreading this long-overdue trip. It was fine in the end, of course. And I managed to get my bike checked at no cost as it turns out there was no problem - apparently I just ride funny. I'm not sure I buy this but, either way, I went for a quick ride in this tiny nearby park and the problems appear to be solved. Personally I think having the bike ridden by an expert (the workshop owner took it for a spin to see what was wrong) broke it in.

The great thing is that my bike shop has now opened its own workshop. So I can go there, where they specifically cater for Dutch-style town bikes like mine, provide friendly service and are tolerant of newbies/riders who don't get mechanics.

Once the bike was safely stowed, we headed out for tea and cake. Because you can never have too much cake, and rainy Saturday afternoons make the ritual of afternoon tea particularly enojoyable.

We tried out the The Tea Rooms in Stoke Newington. The scones were too floury but, that aside, I really liked it. Pretty without being too kitsch, it reminded me of the tea rooms you get outside of London as opposed to the cupcake boutiques that seem to be popping up everywhere (although I love those too). We went for the afternoon tea, a two-tier ditty consisting of finger sandwiches, scones and mini cakes. And tea. Lots of tea. The atmosphere was really relaxed, although at times I found myself distracted by an extremely loud conversation about relationship troubles on the table next to us.

We also popped into a second-hand bookshop where I found a fabulously twee Oxfam-published book called 'Make, Mend, Bake, Save & Shine' that actually contains some useful hints.

After that - this was a rare day when we could spend hours together and do things we've been meaning to - we saw The Social Network. I liked it. At first I wasn't entirely sure why, but I did. The Story of Facebook doesn't particularly appeal to me, and it's odd subject matter for a mainstream Hollywood movie. Yet it was interesting and well-acted, with a decent script - they even managed to get a reference to The Karate Kid in there, although I was the only one who laughed :) I loved the soundtrack too, particularly one track called 'In Motion'.

What really mesmerised me, though, was the compelling reminder that there is a world out there where people aim higher and higher for purely selfish gain, backstab and deceive eachother, and live a lifestyle of continual hedonism. I know - duh. But the film really got me thinking about how, without Christ, that could have been me. Probably not the computer-genius stuff. But everything else.

It was humbling.

At first, as the plot started to unfold, I found myself saying "Ugh, that's awful, how could you DO that to somebody? I would never ... " Then I stopped. I realised that I was no better. I was simply choosing a different lifestyle because I had been called by Christ. Left to my own devices, I would do exactly the same. In fact, I am not incapable of slipping. Grace alone keeps my steps steady. Even if extremes such as drugs and fornication are a total no-no, we are not immune to pride, anger and even lust (whether we act on it or not).

I don't think The Social Network was made with Christians in mind. But it certainly got me thinking. And it reminded me that I need to ask for fresh grace each day if I am to pursue holiness until the very end. Because the narrow path is a difficult, frustrating and often alientating one.

That's why Jesus said that few find it.