This week was one of the best there has been had in recent years. I didn’t embark on any new adventures. I didn’t complete anything that was nagging at me. All in all it was a rather normal week. The changes; listening to scripture on my morning commute and going back to the gym. I used to listen to a talk radio show on the commute but personnel changes following the election appears to have removed the most mentally stimulating hosts. After venturing around itunes looking for a replacement podcast to fill that time slot I was reminded of my priorities, the contrast between what my perception and practice. This is better to explain if I start from the physical approach.
I have been a gym rat for the better part of 20 years now. Minus a few extended periods of healing I have paid as the “experience tax”, my routine has been one of the more stable things in my adulthood. I have my goals, some of which were established in high school that continue to elude. The most eminent motivations though are the harsh memories of being bullied up until fruit from the gym showed on my frame in high school and the constant ailments that eventually lead to dad’s early passing. I know dad’s homegoing was far more than his physical state, but that… that is something I’ll hold closer to the chest. As far as the bullying, an anecdotal observation, bullies are less likely to pick targets who are more muscular than them. I recognize the concern of bullies today is long past relevant, but the confidence one gains and maintains by being a good steward of the body continues.
In 20 years of lifting weights there have been minor injuries all along the way. A strained pectoral here, or a pinched nerve there, I have been more than familiar with long undesired but necessary breaks. These have happened with enough consistency that one or two months of inactivity do not negatively impact performance. After three months, the first week back at the gym will be frustrating, demoralizing, and aggravating. At more than three months, well, it will take at least a month of light workouts to get back to the previous level. This is known as muscle memory, which is a wonderful thing. It could be such that instead of regaining strength within a few months of leaving off, I would have to work back from scratch. This knowledge is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing because I know how temporary this setback will be, the curse because it is still frustrating and humbling to endure every single time I return to the gym to build back up to where I was. There is a certain baseline to reach before I can tune my routine back towards accomplishing my goals.
Last week, I finally got better from a four-months “cold”. The doctor called it “bronchitis” and the antibiotics were incredible, but let us not dwell on the past and technical terms. The best part of the healing process was recognizing I was sick for at least two months more than I needed to be. It was my stubbornness that precluded me from seeking help. Oh the joys of recognizing the fallibility in my physicality as well as my spiritual practice.
At the same time, sadly with far less dedication to my lifting regimen, getting a daily dose of scripture has ebbed and flowed. When it flowed it was grand. I never really maintained awareness how or why I let life’s business get in the way. Certainly there were periods of pride that in order to ensure my practice was authentic manifestations of delight over duty, I would cast away such liturgical structures over my daily routine so as to appear the most authentic. The other prideful exclamation often justified my lack of scripture because maintaining a biblical worldview might be sufficient. You know, think about everything biblically, except the Bible.
I knew I didn’t have a good reason. Is that not the purpose of the Bible app after all? The phone goes everywhere, hence my bible is with me all the time. Even more, the audio bible is on the app too! It really hit me halfway through this week. To really show my faith, I started to listen to the Old Testament. You know, brush up on my biblical history that is a bit rusty. I should be able to distinguish between Elijah and Elisha... What God has shown me in this week, was in the historic descriptive Word, it is still living and active. My place in his kingdom is more clear. The concerns of what each day has before me are less daunting. God is good. This process is far less painful than working back up to a certain level of physical performance. As it should be, the entire basis of the Christian faith isn’t about what we do for God, but what he has already done for us. One of the most basic truths, that I had not paid attention to with the weight I should have. Like getting back into my gym routine, “why did I ever stop?” with the most dumbfounded tone echoes through my head. I am grateful for a loving God who knows me better than I could ever know myself.
Oh, I guess this kind of topped off this week, I got to see Supreme Court Associate Justice Alito this weekend. That was pretty cool too. God cares about the little things too.
P.S. I wrote this a few weeks ago, but not wanting to get on what could have turned into a short lived celebration of a couple weeks, the pattern has held. The gym regime continues, the Word still speaks through the genealogies, and life is great. This has not been a fad. Next time you see me, ask me about what scripture takeaway I had.
