Five years ago, my nurse wondered out loud what the chances were that I pass out as she drew my blood. I told her I’d never had blood taken before, but that my body had always been loyal to me in the past. Then she took, in my opinion, seven too many syringes.
I blacked out. It was the same kind of blackout I experienced every morning after taking the stairs to the second floor at school. I’d make it to floor two, find the nearest chair, complete my routine two-minute blackout, then go about my day. It barely occurred to me that I had some type of issue until it happened while playing my sport. Only after blacking out mid-practice did I figure to rack my mind for some type of explanation. I made it to the doctor’s and eventually learned that I had some pretty severe anemia, along with a couple dozen other factor deficiencies. I stopped playing volleyball and started cooking my food in cast iron skillets and eating steak and spinach.
I could name a laundry list of things that I learned about myself once I was stripped of volleyball for a handful of months. Like how I thought my worth was entirely contingent on how I was playing, for example. But in the same moment of life, I discovered a practice that taught me another laundry list of things about myself—yoga.
I’ve dreamt for years of teaching my own yoga classes, and five years later, in Southern Africa, my dream came more than true. My vision of weaving the gospel into practice actually happened. My eyes welled up with a tear or two when a friend of mine opened her eyes after class and started a sentence with, “During class, Holy Spirit told me…” Below is a portion of my notes. They’re some of the words I shared, along with some revelation that my friends received during class.
…
Come to me all ye who are weary and heavy laden, for I will cause you to rest. I will ease and relieve and refresh your soul. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me. I am gentle and humble in heart. I promise that you will find rest. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11: 28-30.
“Today I want us to consider the words that we’ve put into our heavenly Father’s mouth without his consent. I want us to take up our pencils and author new realities on our hearts. I want is to disarm the enemy—the king of lies. God decided to hand us authority because he knew our renewed minds would craft beauty out of circumstances. He knew that he could trust us.”
Below is revelation that a friend received during class.
“God’s character is like landing at the airport in your hometown. You’re exhausted. You go to baggage claim, and your dad pulls up in the minivan. He rushes to the sidewalk to retrieve your bags. He goes in for a hug, but you have to drop your baggage first to hug him. You get in the car to head home, and because he owns the house, he decides the destination. But you get to cocreate the path to get there—and you can even stop for ice cream. There’s no version of the story where he doesn’t rush to grab your bags. There’s no version of the story where he isn’t willing to hear your ideas and even stop for ice cream.”
“Being born again, you are seated at the right hand. Stop standing. Stop running. There is no more striving. You were reborn into rest. We need to quit starting with discipline. God doesn’t want you to be disciplined, he wants you to practice delight. Discipline is not the root of delight. Discipline is the fruit of delight. Once you delight in something, you’ll give yourself to it.”
…
Just about this time last year, the Lord healed me of my anemia. My community gathered around me and drenched me in prayer. A friend prayed, “Jesus, transfuse your blood into Adria’s veins. Amen.” I always wanted a transfusion because then it’d (hypothetically) be done and over with. The next day, I got my blood tested, and a couple weeks later, received my results. Every one off the FIFTY factors tested came back perfectly in the middle of the healthy range. Every last factor was exactly how God designed it to be. Thank you, Lord.
