The Way Forward is Through

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. 
Psalm 147:3

I have shared frequently about how I enjoy running long distances on trails. It's a way I explore my limits, but it's also something that keeps me grounded in a world that I often find overwhelming. I'm back in a season of preparing for some really long runs, so I'm constantly aware of how my body is feeling right now (tired, mostly). 

Because the season of lent involves the willingness to step into vulnerability and growth, it's got me thinking about something that happened several years ago. I ran a very painful 30 mile race that involved intense cramping in my right hamstring. Like, excruciating, fall-on-the-ground type of pain. I made it to the finish, but I was hobbling by then. I rested for a few weeks and did some easy running the following months, but I found that after that horribly painful experience, every time I would try to run fast or do a big climb up a hill or attempt a longer distance, my right leg had issues. It would start to send little painful shockwaves through my muscle as if to yell, "a cramp is coming! Back off!" So I did. It was frustrating. 

A friend recommended I go see a unique physical therapist that works with some of the top runners in the country (so, not people like me). It was pricey, but I decided to do it. I had no idea what to do. 

He did a number of tests on my hamstrings, checked flexibility, and compared my legs. He asked about how it felt when these "warning signs" popped up on my runs. Was my leg actually cramping? No, just tingling. 
Then he told me that all the tests showed that my leg strength wasn't the issue. Both legs were equally strong. The muscle damage itself was not really there anymore. But the muscle was still "afraid." 

Does it do this on hills? He asked. 
Yes, nearly every time. 
Ok. I need you to do a hard workout of hill repeats. 
What? 
You need to get that feeling, and keep going. If you cramp, of course, stop. But I have a feeling that your body is afraid of something from the past, and you need to help it beyond this moment. You have to increase the load. 
What. The. Actual....? 

But I did it. Pushing hard up those hills over and over again was literally step after step of faith, and really scary when those little tingles came. I felt weakness at first, but it never buckled. In fact, it tapped into new strength as I realized that my leg wasn't actually going to seize anymore. It was timid, but I could trust it. 

Sometimes we have to go ahead and have a bit of faith in our healing. 

Many of you reading this are a part of our local church here at LifePath. And I know that one of the things Jesus has called us to be is a compassionate community for people who have been through some deep pain. Often, that pain has come from harmful church experiences. And our church is certainly not the only one that often functions a bit like a hospital for the wounded. I expect that so many reading this can relate in some way. We can feel weary and beaten. And major injuries make us walk into the future with extreme caution. And that's fair and appropriate.  

But the season of Lent is a time of invitation to step out courageously in both vulnerability and hope, trusting Jesus. 
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Is it possible that you are stronger than you realize? More ready than you realize to step deeper into loving community? More healed than you think, to start using your gifts for the good of God's kingdom? More prepared for what's next, but still scared? 

The world needs disciples of Jesus who can be honest about their wounds, yet full of hope about healing. In fact, those are the people in the best position to offer sensitive care to others who are hurting terribly. We need people with fresh energy to build beloved community and reveal the goodness of God to a world who is increasingly confused about what "Christian" actually means anymore. 

Is it time to take some steps of faith? To use your hands and head and heart in new ways? To be unafraid to open the deepest places within you to Jesus? To be a beautiful expression of God's church once again, even when you were once harmed by poor expressions of God's church? You may find newfound strength as you move. Who knows what adventure is on the other side? Jesus is with you. 

Jesus, today is all about trust. Keep moving me ahead in my healing. 

Peace,
Keith



*Metaphors are always incomplete. There are indeed times that deep wounds need major time and space to heal. I am also not suggesting that someone step back into an environment that is harmful for their mental or emotional health. I'm inviting trust that your past wounds need not limit how God wants to work in and through you now.*