I drove up to the warehouse feeling heavy. The last thing I wanted to do was exercise. Burning calories felt trivial in light of the news I’d received this past week.
A devastating diagnosis.
Another angel baby joining the heavenly hosts too soon.
Sickness and loss and heartache.
Those dear to me were struggling and my heart felt the weight of it – a weight no workout could lift. If only my efforts here could bring change, not just for myself, but for loved ones who were hurting. But no amount of sweat or tears could change a thing.
But with each strain of my muscles, a prayer – repeated over and over again.
Peace. Peace. Peace.
And when fatigue began to set it, I pushed through, not just for me, but for them.
This workout was all about losing weight and building muscle. But not the weight of my post-baby body, nor the muscles of my arms and legs. Rather the weight of fear and doubt and the muscles of faith and hope.
And by the end of 45 minutes, I walked to the back of the warehouse, where the garage door was open and looked out to the parking lot. It wasn’t a pretty view – chain link fencing, dusty concrete, my sweat dripping onto the dirty ground. But my eyes were drawn up, past the current ugliness to the sky – blazing with the brilliance of sunset.
And in that very place He spoke,
“Heather, even here. I am here too.”
In the midst of our trials, the weight of the world does not have to defeat us. We can push through, building our faith muscle, losing the weight of fear. Not because of our own strength, or willpower, but because when we are weak, He is strong. His grace is sufficient.
Where ever you are, hear the Father say, “I am here too.”0