Monday 20 April 2015

I want to be the weakest me ever.

I have this workout journal that I use to log my workouts every day, and at the top of each page, there's always some motivating quote. When I was thumbing through it a few days ago, I came across one that stayed with me: "Never let your lack of strength be mistaken for weakness."

A bit puzzling isn't it?

I mean, in the line of work I do (a.k.a Crossfit), performance is everything; it's a performance-based sport. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Perform? Be the best we can be by exhibiting strength we never thought we were capable of?

But that's not necessarily the entire equation, or definition, of what strength actually is. Not being able to perform in this sport as prescribed by the workout of the day has nothing to do with my strength. I may lack the physical strength to perform a 300# deadlift, but you can bet that I am strong and fully empowered in heart. And I'll keep working until my deadlift is 305#. The strong in heart is the one that always comes out on top.

But sometimes, it's not always that simple...

This past Saturday morning, I did the following workout:

15 min. AMRAP of:

7 95# Push Presses
10 95# Overhead Squats
25 Sit-ups

That. Was. Heavy.

That. Hurt. A lot.

I am definitely not used to doing that kind of weight. And my coach told me before I started that he's not looking for me to complete a bunch of rounds, because the weight is heavier this time. I heard him, but not fully, because once the clock went off, and I felt that heaviness, I was challenged to a whole new level. Everything that I was feeling emotionally inside that had been there from all the various situations in my life came to the forefront. I completed 3 rounds + 3 reps, and crashed on the floor with a heavy lump in my throat from tears.

Why?

Honestly, I really don't know.

Whether we realize it or not, we hold ourselves to unrealistic expectations every single day. We're conditioned to believe that we always have to be more. Just more. You got your first pull-up? Awesome! Now do 10 in a row. You lost 8 pounds? Way to go! Now lose 8 more.

If you were a coach, would you ever talk to a client like this? Absolutely not. So, what's the difference in talking to a client and talking to yourself? How come we are able to place ridiculous expectations on ourselves thinking that's normal, but we know that would be ludicrous to speak to someone else like that....

There is NEVER any satisfaction of celebrating the milestones. There is NEVER a moment where you can just look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself you're happy with where you are while you're working for what you want. Never. There is always more to be worked on. And in the moment of lifting that 95#, I wasn't thinking about the fact that I'm lifting a weight that used to be impossible for me (as in, I couldn't get that bar up at all at one point in my life). I wasn't thinking about the fact that I was doing all 10 reps of those overhead squats in a row without putting the bar down. No. I was too busy thinking about how I just longed to be more than I already am.

But you know what?

Funny enough, Jesus says something completely different. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Jesus wants me to be weak. He actually doesn't want me to be strong. That's hard to swallow, because I've been told to be strong my whole life. But, I must say, nothing has ever ended well when I've relied on my own strength, or understanding. The world says to be more, but I have a God that doesn't care about how "perfect" I am. He doesn't care about my ability or inability to perform in and outside of the gym, in life, in my kitchen, anywhere...he loves me with an unwavering devotion for just simply being, not because I had to earn it or deserve it, work for it, and fear losing it...nope. Again, that's hard to swallow. But man....God, thank You for this kind of freedom.

It's been my heart's prayer that I can bring my performance anxiety (my stressful pressure from myself to be perfect in all things) to Jesus every day, multiple times a day, and one day, truly feel that freedom in my heart of hearts.

Jesus loves the fact that I am strong in heart, and even physically strong. He blessed me with that ability. But, more than anything, he wants my broken, contrite, weak heart in every area that I've left untouched.

It's funny because I work day in and day out to become stronger, and at the same time, also make sure I remain the weakest me ever so I can allow Jesus to remain that Rock I need in my life, because God only knows I can't and never will be able to rescue myself. Thank God for grace, and the fact that God doesn't place the same expectations that I place on myself too often.

No comments:

Post a Comment