I made reference to physical and financial pain in my last post, and a number of you have reached out to check in on my well-being, and I’m oh so grateful.

To fill in some of the details, let’s back up about 6 weeks…

I wrote a post called Finding Your Harp, where I chronicled the value I was finding in cycling—how it was my source of physical, emotional, and even spiritual recharging.

Shortly thereafter, my harp broke.

Or more accurately, I broke.

I had been riding really strong at the time, and one particular ride was the 5th in seven days. It was a total hammer-fest (that’s cycling lingo for riding really hard) out to Riverside and back.  I averaged an incredible speed, and loved every minute of it.

That is, until I got off the bike, and the internal scars from a double hernia surgery a year ago felt like they were on fire…

I knew immediately that something was damaged internally.  In fact, the CT scan scheduled for this morning will determine whether I need to go back under the knife again, and face another 6 months of recovery.  In either case, I’m shut down from any physical activity until mid-June.

So when exercise, my primary source of stress relief (and the one thing that allows me to actually sleep through the night), is taken away, how do I cope?

Fast forward a bit, and my car broke down (permanently) on the way home where I had a meeting scheduled to determine the cost to replace our broken air conditioner for our house. (May as well flush summer vacation plans right out the window.)

Dead car?  Dead AC?  Dollar signs heaped upon more dollar signs. 

And in most cases I would just do without a car for a while and commute to work by bike, except that I’m not physically able to ride; even minor movements exacerbate my abdominal tear and leave me in quite a bit of pain.

 

I’m sure you’ve had similar stretches in your life, where it just feels like things are being taken from you at every turn…

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One thing that’s been very apparent to me over the past 4 or 5 years is that God is more interested in our maturity than in anything else.

He’s in the business of growing us up.

So yes, I threw a pity-fest at first.  I even cried a few times as I felt like the things that provide comfort and pleasure (exercise, fresh air, transportation, a cool house, renting a vacation condo) were cruelly snatched from my grip.

Now, I’m not about to blame God for these things happening.  I don’t know if this was God’s doing, or just that break-downs are a part of life.  (As a side note, the more I come to grips with the latter, the less anger I carry with me when things aren’t perfect.)

I haven’t entertained the above question, because a) there’s no way of knowing, and b) it’s not the essential question.

The essential question is, “God, how are you growing me up during this season?  Help me see it, so I don’t miss this opportunity.”

What was revealed after I asked that question as a prayer is that I tend to place an over-emphasis on comfort and pleasure.

If I can’t have one thing, my heart will gravitate toward something else.  If I can’t have plan B, I’ll move on to plan C, and so on.  So if I can’t afford that two-week road trip, I’ll eventually move all the way down the line to where I’ll settle for a nice bowl of ice cream.

The danger with that mentality is that at its core is a sense of entitlement.

I deserve something, my heart says.

But being miserable without that something is actually enslavement.  I’m not free to be without.

Do you realize how liberating it is to be made aware of this?

This simple epiphany has made a world of difference.  Now I can go to Trader Joe’s on a milk run, and not come home with milk, ginger snaps, a bottle of wine, and a block or two of cheese.

I just come home with milk.

Instead of my morning bike rides, I spend extra time in reading and prayer.

When I wake up in the middle of almost every night due to my lack of exercise, I get out of bed, do some stretches, and pray over my family and my business.

When I get in my new (to me) car that some friends are generously selling to us, I feel a sense of sheer gratitude.  That car serves as a constant reminder to me that God is taking care of us.

I am convinced beyond all doubt that God has got this whole thing under control.

And how am I so sure, you ask?

 

The car came with a bike rack…