I just recently joined workouts with Michael, Paola and Hannah and it has been teaching me so much about myself. By working out with others I have to focus more and be more intentional on my motives. Am I pushing myself for me, for God or what others see in me? Am I trying to become stronger or prove my strength? Am I doing this for health or vanity?
These are questions I always thought I knew the answer to, but when I am at the end of my strength and ask myself, “why must I keep going?” the truth must come forward. I thought it would come forward at least.
A few days ago Michael, who has been helping us by leading workouts, had Paola and I do burpees for a solid 20 minutes. He said if we couldn’t keep going to run as our break, but to just keep moving. We were three minutes in and I thought about just giving up. My muscles already burned and we were only just starting. The rest of the workout my goal was to survive. To somehow keep going. Michael kept encouraging us and reminding us to rest in Jesus. To find rest in movement, “because this year”, he said, “Will be a year of constant moving.” Ya know what I found?
A bunch of crap. That is what was coming out of my mouth anyway. My lungs were exploding and my toes blistered and I kept whispering to myself “shit, shit, shit.” That is not exactly what I wanted to be exhaling (or coughing up in my case). I wanted better for myself so I tried to refocus. “Jesus” I prayed to myself “Help me get through this. Prove to me that you can keep me moving even when I am breaking.” I don’t know what I was expecting, a wave of relief, or more air in my lungs, renewed strength, or for me to at least want to continue? I felt nothing. I was so frustrated.
I started to get mad at God. “Why am I even doing this to myself Lord?” Really at this point I realized what kept me going was not faith in God, but fear of being embarrassed at stopping. Wasn’t worth it. I let myself fall on the floor ready to just cry it out and stay there. Paola looked at me and said “Come on Kels just 5 more minutes.” I jumped up and kept moving. I was on the floor for a total of maybe 5 seconds.
And I kept going. I don’t know how, but I completed my task and kept moving for 20 minutes solid (not counting my collapse on the floor of course). I even pushed some extra sprints in there. I wouldn’t take back even my worst moments of that workout, because it made me better. I walked away knowing I could now do more then I thought myself capable of. I could do more not on my own strength, but on the support of God by using my friends. Great friends who love me enough to push me beyond my own limits and catch me when I fall.
This year of my life is going to be a marathon version of that workout. There will be moments I want to lay in the floor and just scream out “why am I here?!” There are moments when I am so tired I could sleep in the floor, but instead have to choose to be present where I am at. The hardest of moments seem like the end when I am in them, but when they are completed I look back and treasure them because I see all God did and how I have changed for the better. This will be and is, a year very dearly treasured year full of beauty and wonderful moments of gold.
