Stretch It Out

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

This has been my ongoing and super complex inner dialogue since trying a new workout a couple of days ago. The program was apparently so effective it targeted muscles I was previously oblivious of owning. Funny, right, that my body is closer to health right now, while I’m in the throes of recovery, than it was back when I felt the painlessness of normalcy?

Progress comes with an ache.

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Kingdom Rising

What’s the last concept you encountered that you knew would require extra time to work through? Something so meaty it refuses to fit into a tweet or on a dollar store coffee mug?

I just finished reading The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge. The book includes a couple of paragraphs that I suspect I’ll be unpacking for years. Here they are:

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Keep Going

Summertime in the country: my little brother and I would bump along down our circle driveway, bikes not absorbing much shock at all from the big chunks of gravel and asphalt. When we’d reach the bottom of the hill, our bikes would (hopefully) hit the homemade ramps straight-on, and we’d get the most epic air a kid could hope for. In that shining moment, hair flying out behind me, I could have been sporting Wonder Woman’s cape. I felt so free and heroic.

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The graduation party. The big promotion. The skinny jeans. The dazzled guests. The “I do.” Every season, adventure, and project you begin has a pleasant conclusion that you find worthwhile, and if you can push past all of the difficulties, you wind up with the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (or the medal at the end of the marathon, or… you get the point).

Finishing strong is a must for those who represent Christ. We push through, leave it all on the field, so to speak, and then celebrate big. This is the pattern of God’s people over and over in Scripture, and it will never be a bigger party than at the end of time. Talk about the grandest finale ever! So while we look forward to the final resolution to the groaning of all creation, may we display tiny foreshadowing pictures of it throughout the world.

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Guess what word my name sounds like in Spanish? Almost. I know this because I was fondly called Almost a lot during a brief mission stint in Monterrey, Mexico, and I kind of hated it. ‘Almost’ shows a lack: sure, you’ve made progress, but you’re still falling short of complete. (The optimist would spin it the other way, making a season of ‘almost’ a gift of hope rather than an emotional burden.)

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