It may well be the thing we most hate to love in America. Everyone praises it and extolls its benefits, but no one wants to actually do it. The majority of the adult population energetically writes it on New Year's resolution lists, only to find no energy left to actually follow through. You know what I'm talking about: Exercise...going to the gym...working out...becoming more active.
Magazines tell us why we should love it, and we know we want to, but after putting so much effort into acting like we aren't jealous of those annoyingly fit slimsters* who easily jog endless miles, somehow there just isn't any energy left to get out and go to the gym. And even if you do somehow work up the motivation to drag yourself into a room full of buff, compact, human energy bullets who blithely push around more pounds at once than you have moved in the last few weeks combined, the sheer depression resulting is likely to haunt you the next time you think of darkening the door to that jungle of muscles. No wonder everyone prefers going on a diet in America instead of going to the gym--it involves less action in general and zero interaction with those depressingly fit and muscular ones who make you feel like gorging on an entire bucket of donuts. With ice cream on the side.
This week, finding myself to be one of those Americans who wants to work out but doesn't really want to exercise, I went to the gym for the first time in months. Normally I rationalize myself out of this because I work with David doing landscaping and general yard work and, therefore, assume I'm getting all the exercise I need. Also, I don't exactly need to lose weight, so it seems even less necessary. However, recognizing that--like most American jobs--our work consists of finding the easiest, most efficient way to accomplish the project with minimal effort, I finally had to concede that working outside every week doesn't necessarily equate to "working out" and that, since landscaping doesn't seem to offer quite the degree of physical torture that the gym does, I probably need more exercise.
Monday went well, and for that first day I was under the happy delusion that it was going to be easier than I'd thought. Though somewhat sore, I felt satisfied with my achievement and the fact that I could still move without moaning or experiencing overt pain. By Wednesday, something about the 75 lb. bar weighting my shoulders as I did squats made me suspect seriously that there might be a rebellion brewing not far under my skin. As it turned out, I've been limping up and down stairs and wincing at attempts to sit down for the last few days.
Being ridiculously sore and achy has reminded me, though, that there are other ways to exercise aside from going to the gym. As Paul wrote to Timothy, "...exercise yourself toward godliness." (1 Tim. 4:7) And if physical exercise is important for good health and strength, how could its spiritual counterpart not be doubly crucial to our spiritual well-being?
This week I realized that working out consistently could save me the pain of making my muscles get reacquainted with exercise, and that building strength won't happen without some intentional effort. Ordinary daily work is good, but sometimes it's not enough. In the same way, I suspect, godliness won't just happen to us. Sure, instead of exercise we might prefer to go on a spiritual diet and avoid the bad stuff, but that alone won't give us the strength of character that we need as much as Timothy did.
I hope you'll join me in the spiritual gym to work with the Master Trainer. He knows where we are weak and just how to make us strong.
"Only be strong and very courageous, that you may observe to do according to all the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may prosper wherever you go." Joshua 1:7
*Yes, that might be an imaginary term, but you know who they are.
Magazines tell us why we should love it, and we know we want to, but after putting so much effort into acting like we aren't jealous of those annoyingly fit slimsters* who easily jog endless miles, somehow there just isn't any energy left to get out and go to the gym. And even if you do somehow work up the motivation to drag yourself into a room full of buff, compact, human energy bullets who blithely push around more pounds at once than you have moved in the last few weeks combined, the sheer depression resulting is likely to haunt you the next time you think of darkening the door to that jungle of muscles. No wonder everyone prefers going on a diet in America instead of going to the gym--it involves less action in general and zero interaction with those depressingly fit and muscular ones who make you feel like gorging on an entire bucket of donuts. With ice cream on the side.
This week, finding myself to be one of those Americans who wants to work out but doesn't really want to exercise, I went to the gym for the first time in months. Normally I rationalize myself out of this because I work with David doing landscaping and general yard work and, therefore, assume I'm getting all the exercise I need. Also, I don't exactly need to lose weight, so it seems even less necessary. However, recognizing that--like most American jobs--our work consists of finding the easiest, most efficient way to accomplish the project with minimal effort, I finally had to concede that working outside every week doesn't necessarily equate to "working out" and that, since landscaping doesn't seem to offer quite the degree of physical torture that the gym does, I probably need more exercise.
Monday went well, and for that first day I was under the happy delusion that it was going to be easier than I'd thought. Though somewhat sore, I felt satisfied with my achievement and the fact that I could still move without moaning or experiencing overt pain. By Wednesday, something about the 75 lb. bar weighting my shoulders as I did squats made me suspect seriously that there might be a rebellion brewing not far under my skin. As it turned out, I've been limping up and down stairs and wincing at attempts to sit down for the last few days.
Being ridiculously sore and achy has reminded me, though, that there are other ways to exercise aside from going to the gym. As Paul wrote to Timothy, "...exercise yourself toward godliness." (1 Tim. 4:7) And if physical exercise is important for good health and strength, how could its spiritual counterpart not be doubly crucial to our spiritual well-being?
This week I realized that working out consistently could save me the pain of making my muscles get reacquainted with exercise, and that building strength won't happen without some intentional effort. Ordinary daily work is good, but sometimes it's not enough. In the same way, I suspect, godliness won't just happen to us. Sure, instead of exercise we might prefer to go on a spiritual diet and avoid the bad stuff, but that alone won't give us the strength of character that we need as much as Timothy did.
I hope you'll join me in the spiritual gym to work with the Master Trainer. He knows where we are weak and just how to make us strong.
"Only be strong and very courageous, that you may observe to do according to all the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may prosper wherever you go." Joshua 1:7
*Yes, that might be an imaginary term, but you know who they are.
