For the joy of…

It’s interesting, this push/pull effect that yummy food has on me. 

I am still trying to figure out a precise calculation for eating food (deserts included) sans adding pounds. But till then, I am stuck with this love-hate relationship with the gym.

Speaking of which, I had a date with the spicy chicken deluxe sandwich and large fries at Chick-fil-A, and so I did the absolute most at the gym prior to. My love for Chick-fil-A is one I am certain will never die.

Anyways, it’s days after, and I am still sore. The deep tissue type of soreness that rolls deep and requires thought with every movement. I kinda felt like the Tin Woodman in the Wizard of Oz before he was doused in oil.

After much ado wincing in pain, I asked my goon to help me stretch, and added that if he was feeling extra nice to throw in a massage. This man decided to be a type A personality with this request, and I had no control over my facial expressions as he applied pressure to my stiff and sore muscles. Homeboy put his back into his new role of massage therapist, so much so that you would think he was certified…and I? Well I put mine into begging for mercy. It was at that point I thought that maybe sitting in the soreness wasn’t so bad after all because in comparison, what he was doing had me seeing stars. Blurry stars. Yes, I have a flare for the dramatics. ☺️

The joke is he heard my cries, but he continued, balancing the intensity of his strokes with soothing words of encouragement that begged for me to lean in, relax and let go. I say beg because I think he was just about ready to fling my whining self to the side so he could continue watching the game I had willfully interrupted. But you do understand why my brain just could not process why discomfort and I’ll go as far as saying, pain was a prerequisite for easing tightness, soreness and get this, pain. Like…?!?!

But alas! I relaxed (with a pillow bearing the brunt of my clenched teeth) and by the end of the gruelling session I felt a release, and a whiff of normalcy as my muscles relaxed some. Hurray! I was once again capable of giving a mid-way high 5. Progress. 

Kinda reminds me of my walk with God. Those painful seasons of pruning that always leave me in hysterics, curled up in fetal positions. The weeding and winnowing process that stretch me beyond what I think I am capable of. The intense pressure that makes me feel like I am 5 seconds from flatlining. Needless to say, the refinery is not for the faint of heart. The end result however… oh so beautiful. Harvested fruits, a testament of my resilience. 

When he said ‘let go’ and I surrendered, it was all of sudden easier to endure. It wasn’t any less uncomfortable, but I persevered (pillow in tow). Isn’t this why God says to trust him, to rely not on our own strengths and abilities, but to seek him and acknowledge him in all that we do? Isn’t it why He says to keep our minds focused on him? Isn’t it why He says to put him on like an armour?

What are you trying to do all by yourself? What are you accepting or condoning in an effort to avoid discomfort? God is saying, hey I am here, how about you let go and trust that I got you? How about you see me as both Saviour and Lord? How about you believe that I love you, and even in the process (refinery) remember that I will bring you to an expected and beautiful end…a release from the tightness in your heart, and the soreness in your feet from roaming in the wilderness. Freedom from the heaviness on your shoulders carrying the weight alone. How about you find joy in knowing that my thoughts for you are good. How about that? 

In defiance I could say that I will never ask for a massage again but we all know thats a lie. As long as there is food, I’ll eat and thus wet the gym floors with my sweat and tears…more tears. Then soreness and blah-d-blah 🤦🏽‍♀️

Happy MonYay! 

💙

xoxo

 Picture @pinterest