Do you remember that time you started a new workout program? (It’s OK to giggle here. Or even laugh out loud. I get it.)
Whether it was years ago or just last week, perhaps your experience was similar to mine. It is, unfortunately, a group of moments that cannot be removed from my memory bank.
First of all. Have mercy. The new routine involves a lot of fancy steps and it moves faaaaast. I spend most of the time trying to stay on my feet, watch the online trainer, listen to the instructions, and breathe. There is nothing pretty about my performance.
The program only lasts 30 minutes, but I’m exhausted when it’s done. All I want to do is cry.
It’s hard to find the rhythm when the exercises change so fast, and the online coach Just. Keeps. Talking. (I know she’s trying to motivate us, but oh my word. Her incessant talking is annoying when I’m trying desperately to focus on if my left leg goes up or out or down.)
I’ve learned I can’t fight the workout. It doesn’t work for me to tell the coach (through the computer screen) that she’s wrong and she has to stop everything and change it all up so it’s easier. I mean. How silly would that be.
I need to just fight through it. And I’m usually pretty good at that.
I’m a Midwestern, small town, Scandinavian girl who believes that you can do or fix anything if you only work hard enough. And if something is hard? Fight for it. Push through it. Struggle ‘til you have it worked out. And when it gets really hard, take a breath and take a break. Ask the neighbor for help. And then start again.
But I don’t always do that. Take a break and ask for help, I mean. Not in the Big-Deal Life Struggles.
When I’m in a Struggle that is a little more life-influencing than a 30-minute workout program, I will fight against the Struggle. With every fiber of my being.
I refuse to move through it. I want to make it stop.
It looks like this when my Struggle hits hard …
I’m thrashing around in an ocean storm, beating the waves with my fist. Choking on salt water that’s gotten into my mouth and nose. Kicking my legs like they’re the only things that are keeping me from going under. Because they are. Yelling at the wind and the icy rain about how mad I am that they are causing this much messy in my life as I try and catch my breath. I don’t take a break and I don’t breathe. I don’t ask for help. I just fight what I can’t control.
I don’t even see God’s hand waiting patiently for me to grab it and just float a bit. Rest. Breathe.
I fight the Struggle. And I never win.
How does fighting the Struggle show up in your life?
I know you’ve got your moments like this. When fighting the Struggle just seems like the right response. Because we should be able to fix this. We’re smart. Resourceful. Influencers.
But we’re also human. Tired. And we cannot control that messy.
How about if instead of fighting the messy moments – instead of trying to control and fix – instead of wishing and wailing and wanting something different …
We take a breath. We stop. We float for a bit.
Let’s stop yelling at the waves and trying to figure out how we make them stop crashing. Let’s instead grab God’s arm and let Him lift us up and out of fighting the Struggle.
You don’t have to listen to the perky, never-eaten-a-sandwich-in-her-life exercise coach when she tells you to keep going with everything you’ve got when your muscles are screaming “Stop the craziness!” Pause. Slow down. Start again at your own pace.
And more importantly.
When those big-time struggles start beating you down?
Close your eyes and take a breath. Relax your shoulders.
Stop fighting what you can’t control or fix.
Move through the messy with your hand firmly clasped with the hand of The One Who Loves You Most.
It won’t always be this hard.
“He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters.”
Psalm 18:16
