Sunday, April 18, 2010

Working out spiritually

I think I'll be writing my already late "to those who come after" Forge letter off this topic, but I had to share this idea that's been swirling around in my head.

Yesterday my roommate and I went to go work out. My history with working out is only about seven months long. Until last September when I joined the gym down the road I rarely set food in a gym. Since I've grown in confidence to get in one, well, I've really enjoyed it. And so it's become a regular part of my week. Along the way, I keep finding all these spiritual parallels between working out and the spiritual life. Like if you work at it a little bit over time, you change, though you don't notice it in the moment. When I started working out, I couldn't do a pull up without assistance from the counterweight. Slowly over time I used less and less counterweight until around January I didn't use any counterweight at all. Last week I did 14 pull ups in a row for my first set in a workout routine. I never noticed along the way that they were getting easier, or that I was doing more, but I was growing. Am I putting that kind of effort in to grow like that spiritually?

Back to yesterday. We were doing this crazy exercise on the bench where you do a triceps exercise with a bar until you can't do it anymore and then you bench that same bar until you can't do that anymore. It went okay the first time, but the second time it got hard. Real hard. And I just wanted to stop. There were tons of great justifications in my head - I already felt the burn, I don't really _have_ to get the whole number of desired reps in, I'm still doing pretty good with this workout thing just by showing up... But thankfully, my roommate wasn't listening to any of those things in my head, and he kept pushing me. I kept going. Even though it burned. Even though I didn't have to. I strained. I grunted. And finally, I couldn't move the bar anymore. As it started to fall my roommate grabbed it and guided it where it needed to be. "Now bench." "You've got more, come on. Don't give up!" Same drill. When the bar started to down when it was supposed to be going up, his hands were there to push it up and put it away.

That set is the kind of set I should be doing every time I do any set of anything anytime I'm in the gym.

But instead most of the time I settle for a "feel-good" set that kinda burns but is well within my capacity. I began to ask myself while laying exhausted on the bench, "is this what I'm like spiritually?" Do I settle for just doing things within my capacity when I have more that I can offer my Father? Am I avoiding the pain that brings growth and settling for less? Am I pushing so hard spiritually that all I can do is collapse when I'm done and let Him finish? It was a spiritual reality check and I've been processing it for a couple days.

I think there are areas in my life, like my morning time with God, in which I've not been pushing myself. I'm content with shallow water when there are depths a few feet out that I don't even know how to navigate. I'm not pouring out all of my water to bless those around me and then retuning to the fountain to be filled. I'm keeping some of the water back, just like in the gym. This should not be, brothers.

One of the reasons I like working out is that it reminds of things like what I realized above. It's a mini picture to me of the way my spiritual life works. So even though I'm already sore from yesterday, and will continue to be sore in different areas as I go through different parts of my routine, I'm going to keep working out. It's the best way I know to remind myself that with the Father's hands spotting me I am capable of far more than my mind says is possible.

See you in the gym.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Starting over

So I've decided that there is no point in paying for Typepad anymore if I don't update my blog. Without internet in the house blogging has fallen by the wayside, so time to get a free Blogger blog rather than pay for Typepad. Typepad was a great company and I really enjoyed my experience with them, but time to move on.