Working out and Follwing Jesus - Part 4: the Truth of the Matter

I got sucked into working out with the Fitness Manager at my 24 Hour Fitness today. I walked in, stopped at the front desk to have my card scanned as usual, and he stopped to ask what I had planned for my workout that day. Now, they have a pretty friendly staff at my gym, but I kinda had a feeling that he wasn't just asking to be nice. I used to have his job, I know how it works. This is how you sell training.

A few minutes later I'd agreed to let him give me a workout (meaning, convince me how badly I need training from him for an hour, then back it up with a 25 minute workout). But I was feeling lazy and unmotivated that day, and knew I could use the push. I've also been asking God for opportunities to meet people at the gym, at the store, in my neighborhood, etc., to build relationships and reach those who don't yet have a relationship with Jesus. I figured this was an open door, so I took it.

For slightly less than an hour, we talked about my goals, my current workout, my nutrition, etc. I already knew about 90% of what he said, and had preached the same message to others multiple times. I nodded along and agreed with just about everything that came out of his mouth. And I admitted how I knew exactly what I needed to do but often didn't do it.

Finally we worked out for a bit, wearing out my legs and figuring out some of my knee problems. We got along great, had some laughs, and I sweated like crazy. It was a good time. And then of course we sat back down so he could tell me how much training would cost, how he'd like to help me, how we'd work well together, etc. Again, I agreed with all that he said. I was a personal trainer, so of course I know and appreciate the value. In fact, I wouldn't mind having a trainer to push me - if they weren't so dang expensive!

I thanked him for his time, said I'd think about it (terrible thing to hear when you're on his side of the desk), and finished up with some cardio on my own.

Maybe it was my need to people-please and have people like me; or my desire to get more opportunities to talk about God with him (there were some brief ones when we got to the money thing); or maybe the combination of that plus my own guilt of knowing I've been slacking in the gym....but the whole way home and the rest of the night, I went back and forth on the idea of purchasing training. The whole scenario was in my mind and I couldn't get it out...still can't.

As I drove I pondered why this was sticking in my brain so much. Why I felt like I should buy training, when the whole time I was thinking 'oh gosh, don't try to sell me, I'm not buying, leave me alone'. Partially, he was a great guy, not a completely annoying salesman. And he gave me a good workout. Yet he told me nothing revolutionary, and the workout was nothing I couldn't have imagined up on my own if I'd tried. If I essentially knew almost everything he said and showed me, why was I actually feeling a little guilty and wondering if I should buy training? I'm practically immune to salesmen, I can't stand them. I almost never succumb unless I already know I need what they have to sell.

The answer, I concluded, was that even though I already knew everything he said, and knew what I should be doing, he called me out. He pointed out every area that I wasn't doing what I knew what to do and put into words the thoughts I'd been pushing to the side. He brought my weakness to light and exposed my faulty thinking and behavior. It was fine when I knew it, but didn't have to acknowledge it or be accountable to anyone else. I could deceive myself, I could rationalize away my bad decisions. All along I knew where I was making mistakes and deceiving myself. But as soon as someone else saw it and spoke it out loud, it became much more real and weighty.

I thought about going back to the gym every day in the future, aware that I was no longer just another face in the gym. Now there's someone who knows what I'm doing and not doing. It's like he's keeping me accountable just by being there and seeing me. Like I can't hide anymore. There was a moment of temptation to avoid him at the gym and not want him to see me there anymore - to 'runaway' in a sense. That cleared pretty quickly because I'm not that much of a wuss. But next came the clarity that I have to own up to this. Whether it's buying training to fix the problem, or simply admitting to myself that I need to step it up and the committing to discipline and good choices (to 'prove him wrong').

Then I noticed the parallel between my gym experience and physical conundrum, and the spiritual one of telling people about Christ. People hate being told what they're doing is wrong. Often, they run away (happens all the time with ministry in Hollywood. Literally, they run away and book it in the opposite direction of us as soon as we say 'Christian' or 'bible' or 'Jesus'.) And it's frustrating, to tell you the truth. I think "when is anyone ever going to get this? Or accept it? Or acknowledge their brokenness?"

And it made me think that the manager who just spent 1.5 hours with me probably saw a similar picture in front of him. Stubbornness, self-assurance, arrogance even. (which is when I realized I should probably apologize for coming off that way next time we talk!) But inside my mind was reeling after we talked.

Those people we talk to about Christ have probably, at some point in their lives or even on a daily basis, considered their purpose, their existence, their lack of hope, their brokenness. And asked questions and dismissed God and come up with faulty logic and theology. But left unchallenged, they can keep lying to themselves and live a life that contradicts what they really know deep down. When someone calls that out and brings it to life, it shakes them up and makes them uncomfortable because they'll have to face the lies they've been hiding behind and the truth they've been stifling. Some will push it down further and further until they hide it enough to go on living as they've been living - until someone else down the road brings it up again. Others might try to push it away, but will be left with that nagging feeling and finding themselves facing truth and decisions to make about it. And we may never know which they are, because the outward appearance is deceiving.

Maybe these are some of the people that keep hanging out, non-committal and unemotional, but lingering just enough to hear a little bit more truth so they can work through their questions. Maybe they need some time to count the cost, just like I have to with training (of course, it's a little different with the physical because that 'cost' is about me, when really I could use that money for someone else). But to tease out my analogy - I was left counting the cost of doing what I knew I needed to do. Either spending the money to have someone else keep me accountable, or to step up my own training and nutrition to live what I have been believing but not actually living out 100%.

And if a person buys training, they usually don't just jump into that. You have to weigh if it's really worth it. Because if you don't commit, it's a waste. To make it worth it, you truly have to commit and change the way you've been living. And you know that if you commit, it will all be worth it. It's hard work, but you'll get results.

Same with choosing Christ. You don't just jump in lightly to that decision. Because when you do it changes the way you've been living, do live, and will live, forever. You have to commit to something radically different. And according to the bible, being lukewarm about it is not an option. But when you do commit, you know you all of the sacrifices will be worth it.

So oddly enough, my one evening of working out with a trainer at the gym opened my eyes to see a bit more of what it's like for those who are weighing the option of Christ. He's been my only option for most of my life, so I don't always understand. Now I know I need a bit more patience, understanding, and willingness to provide facts and reason and truth over and over. Like the trainers at the gym, I need to live in a way that holds other accountable to the lies they're living, without having to say anything. As a good trainer who practices what he preaches demonstrates through his appearance and physical abilities that the hard work and following the truth gets results -I have to live my own life in a way that proves that the cost is completely worth it.

And eventually, we either all deny the truth and go our own way, or we realize that facing the truth will lead us exactly where we want to be.

Working out and Follwing Jesus - Part 3: Faith is like a muscle

My roommate and I just got done having a time of listening prayer together. We regularly sit in our living room and share prayer requests and then spend time praying for each other; but today we decided to try just listening together for whatever God might have to say.

I can't say for sure where my mind led me was distinctly from God, or just related to things he'd been teaching me about, but I started pondering what I'd been reading lately, as well as a conversation I'd had just minutes before on the phone with another friend. I was telling him about Francis Chan quoting a professor who had once said, "what in your life right now requires faith?"

As I let the thought roll around in my mind, it struck me that maybe there's not a lot right now in my life that requires faith. I tend to rely on the old faithfuls - like tithing and talking to people on the streets of Hollywood, or asking God to show up in big ways. Things that, at one point, really required a good amount of faith. When I truthfully thought about the question, I realized maybe those areas no longer require faith. I've gotten used to how much money I give away and it's not much of a sacrifice, even as I increase my giving. Because God always provides. And going to Hollywood at midnight isn't scary anymore, I'm used to it and really enjoy it. Yes, every night requires some kind of faith for God to do big things, but not like it used to.

Then it struck me that it fit perfectly with this physical-spiritual relationship I've been writing about. Faith is like a muscle. When you first start lifting weights, your muscles are sore, and your body responds quickly to the load you're demanding of it to lift. It's difficult, it challenges your whole body, and your muscles begin to grow as a result.
But it's fairly common knowledge that after a while of doing a certain routine and working out your muscles the same way, they adapt to whatever load you've been putting on them and your body hits a plateau. Then it's time to increase the reps, or the weight, or the routine so that your body has to readjust and will begin to change once again as you push through the plateau.

Faith seems to be the same for me. When I wrote my first $100 tithe check, it scared the crap out of me. I felt incredibly uncomfortable, but a week or so after I never worried about it again. I always had enough. And after a few months or so of that, I realized it wasn't much of a sacrifice again, and I decided it was time to increase my giving in faith, out of the blessing God had given to me. And so has been the story of my tithing...getting comfortable with giving more than I originally thought I could, and seeing God provide. But it always gets easy and I have to re-challenge myself. Or when I started doing ministry in Hollywood - that was pretty scary, it definitely required faith to get myself down there. Now? Not so much. Trusting God to do big things still requires faith, but I'm not usually in fear of anything that requires me to leap in faith.

So I realized that there's not much in my life requiring faith right now. There's things I anticipate in my future requiring it. And yes, there's some certain moments or decisions that require it (which I sometimes hold back from in fear, or keep a back-up plan just in case God decides not to show up). But I see that my faith has become like a muscle that's adapted to its workout. What once was hard has become easy and even if I like to think I'm working hard and growing, the outward appearance proves me wrong.

It's time to add some weight to my faith, cause it to grow and rebuild, and to see God to even bigger and better things. And I'm scared - oh yes, I'm scared. Because usually growth is painful. Making a muscle grow means that you're actually creating minor tears in the muscle that cause growth has they heal. Faith can be scary and difficult, but the result is always worth the difficulty. Especially because we don't just get a physical reward, but we come to know Christ and see his awesome power more and more each time.

How often to I look back on a workout and think "man, I wish I hadn't worked so hard and tired myself out. I wish my body wasn't getting stronger and healthier and better looking, it wasn't worth the hard work"? Nope. It's always worth it. Same with faith. When have I ever regretted stepping out in faith and trusting Christ and seeing him move? Never. Those are some of the greatest moments of my life. The only moments I regret are the workouts that I 'dilly-dallied' my way through (as my dad would say) and didn't give my all. And the times I could have trusted God but didn't, and as a result never got to see him in all of his might.

What are you doing in your life right now that requires faith?

Please Drive with Aloha

I returned from Hawaii this past weekend, and it appears I came back with a sickness. Nope, not the cold that one of my traveling companions brought back. Or some string of the swine flu that's apparently hit Hawaii. This is something more along the lines of Aloha fever, or Oahu disorder perhaps. The kind of sickness that gets deep into peoples bones, affecting their brains and functionality. The kind that makes an entire state find a 35 mph speed limit on a highway reasonable. Or causes them to arrive places, "in a Hawaiian minute" (really late); propels them to 'drive with Aloha' (no middle fingers or horns or cutting each other off), and call people they barely know 'Ohana'.

It's a slower pace of life there...as are many places outside of California and New York and much of America. People aren't in a rush - both locals and the many tourists who are simply there to enjoy the beauty around them and spend time with friends or family.

That was one of the things I was looking forward to most about my trip, and which I still see as one of the best parts; we didn't have any major agendas, no big tasks to attend to. We woke up each morning with a vague idea of where our feet (and convertible Jeep) would take us, but we rarely set an alarm or rushed to get anywhere. We spent hours sitting or laying on the beach, playing in the water, taking pictures and chatting at sunset, talking with God over Kona coffee in the early morning, and taking leisurely meals, walks and hikes. 'Community' is another way of summing up what we experienced in Oahu. And what you're really able to experience more of when you're not in a rush.

As I got to enjoy more of this...driving slowly down the highways or stopping whenever we saw something pretty to take pictures of, I thought about life back in California. Work, responsibilities, task lists, packed rush hour traffic, strangers who never say 'hello', speeding drivers, speeding grocery shoppers, agitated high-heeled speed-walking execs on their cell phones, and everything else that says 'Hurry! Go! Get more done! Your worth depends on it!' flashed in my mind and made me cringe. And then just made me feel bad for everyone still stuck in that lifestyle, and it suddenly appeared so foolish to me. Even if I already knew it was foolish, I realized how much worth I put in being busy and productive. I'll even try to look busy if I'm not, so others think I'm busy and important and accomplishing much. Sad, really.

But why is busyness so important? What does getting more done really accomplish? I guess it makes us feel good about ourselves. Or shields us from social or emotional confrontation we don't want to deal with. Or provides an excuse from doing the things that truly matter that we'd rather avoid. Of course there are many more reasons, but I know those are some of my biggest reasons for being busy. Our culture values it and so I place value and worth in what I'm doing and accomplishing. And I will admit that I perpetuate the problem - I judge people who aren't very busy or productive. You just sat around and watched TV today? You didn't do anything but hang out with friends? You're not exhausted from over-committing? What's wrong with you?

Granted, some of that is my personality, or some of it is truly over-committing to things I love doing and care about. Yet I realized how often I'll leave a party or social event early for reasons as lame as being a little tired, or just wanting alone time, or being uncomfortable with making slightly awkward conversation with people I don't know as well. I get so wrapped up in good things I need to get done that I ignore needs of people around me. Truth be told, sometimes accomplishing tasks is much easier than sitting down to listen to a friend talk about their problems.

However, community is an idea God has been laying more and more on my heart. How else do you get to share your faith besides getting to know people? How am I supposed to display Christ to my neighbors if I never allow space to be with them? How do I get into deep conversations if I'm always rushing to the next thing?

When we go to do ministry in Hollywood, we go with nothing but time. Time to hang out and get to know people. And when we have a building, it's going to be a place that fosters community and creates safe space for people to hang out and find out about Jesus in a comfortable environment that they actually want to be in. Hopefully many of us will be able to move there and become part of the community. If I were to live my same busy, rushed life there, I'd do no good. So, am I doing any good where I'm at?

In Hawaii I got to know my friends much better. I had time to just be with them and enjoy them and find fun things to do together. When I got back I listened to the sermon I'd missed at church, and he mentioned how people in the mid-west move slower. He said something like, "In California it's like we're rushing to go nowhere. In the mid-west, they know they're going nowhere, so they take their time". Funny comment, but true. One of my friends had said something very similar in Hawaii. Yet I still worry that I'll be judged for not doing enough, for having time to do nothing but sit around with people. Unless of course, I make it clear that I'm 'doing ministry'...then it's accepted.

So what am I rushing to? When I stand before God with my completed task list, will he be proud? Or say, "great. but did you love people? did you love me? did you read my word and take the time to respond?"

When I got back from vacation, I found myself driving a little bit slower, having more patience with slow store clerks or people walking in front of me or bad drivers. I stuck around at social gatherings just a little longer than I normally would, realizing I had nothing important to get home to. And when I truly had something I had to rush to, I felt pretty bad that I couldn't stick around longer with whoever I was with to dig more into their lives. Oddly, it kind of looked like love. I stopped focusing on how fast I could get to the next thing, and suddenly I had plenty of patience and compassion for others, even a desire to converse with them instead of just hurrying on.

I'm liking this so far, and plan to keep trying to incorporate some slowness into my life. There are still plenty of distractions in my downtime (such as the internet ...and blogging :))... so I don't quite have it down yet. But ultimately this is what I want my life to be about - someone who takes time for people, to hear and listen to them, be there for them, allow for conversations that lead to Christ. Maybe even do it so much that people wonder, "why is this girl like this? why does she spend so much time caring about me?" and hopefully cause them to wonder about God.

And if God leads me to serve the poor and needy in Hawaii, well, I guess that's just a sacrifice I'll have to make ;)