Achilles is more than just a Greek warrior

I’ve found I have two gods: Comfort and Productivity.

Comfort often takes the form of fun and pleasure, while Productivity is often masked as efficiency.

A few days ago, those gods were exposed in a single, painful act: while playing basketball with some friends, I felt something hit the back of my leg, just below the calf. Simultaneously, a loud sound, similar to that of a softball hitting a wooden wall, emitted from the same spot on my leg.

In mid-crumpling action, I glanced behind me to see what hit me, and when I realized nobody and nothing, was there, I immediately knew: the Achilles tendon had just ruptured.

Several hours later, and it was confirmed: a full rupture of the tendon had left a 2cm gap in between the frayed ends, and I would be out of commission for the next several months.

The doctor assured me that I would be able to resume full activity (even play basketball again!) in 6-12 months. 

Mind you, after the pain I experienced, and given that I am in my mid-forties, I’ve made the official decision to retire from basketball and instead enjoy non-impact activities like golf and cycling, but the point remains: this baby will take half a year (at a minimum) to heal.

And given that it was the tendon on my right leg that snapped, I won’t be driving for at least 4-6 weeks.

Here’s where my gods come in:

Experiencing the pain of a tendon that is stretched to the literal breaking point is really, really uncomfortable. But that’s not where my issues have arisen.

Taking a shower, when you can’t stand on your leg, or get it wet, is a pain. And so I have to decide: do I stay icky (read: uncomfortable) or go through the arduous process of wrapping the cast, hopping into the shower, standing uncomfortably on the one leg while I wash, hop out, hope I don’t slip and fall – you get the idea.

Going to the bathroom in the middle of the night (where I wake up dizzy and clumsy on a good day), and choosing to use crutches (not the best idea when you’re feeling dizzy and clumsy) or the leg scooter (my boys refer to this as my “new toy”), which bumps into things as I try to navigate tight corners in our small house. Backing out of the bathroom, the scooter has all of the agility of a big-rig truck, minus the beeping backup sound. The entire process takes 10 times longer than it should, which is really frustrating (especially in the middle of the night) when all you want to do is quickly relieve yourself before drifting back off to sleep.

Not to mention the discomfort of a foot that regularly goes asleep, a calf that feels continually tight, and navigating tight spaces with an immobile leg.

My comfort has been taken away.

Worse than the discomfort is the lack of productivity – at work; in my volunteer activities at church; and at home, where I derive meaning from being able to pitch in and help. 

I can think of no better picture to describe this than last night, during one (of many) bathroom trips. I am trying to navigate tight turns into the bathroom in the dead dark of night. I hit the doorjamb with a wheel, so I back up to try again. I hit it again. Back up again, and this time graze the doorjamb, taking a chunk of it with me. Frustrated, I move forward, a little more forcibly, and take more wood out of the frame. 

I finally make it through the doorway, only to run over my good foot with one of the rear wheels of the scooter.

Seems like I can’t go anywhere, make any progress whatsoever, without incident.

A perfect metaphor.

Two gods exposed: comfort and productivity.

So what’s my takeaway?

That it’s time to rest.

That it’s time to rid myself of these gods once and for all, and focus on the true God who loves me simply because I am his.

To focus on the God whose identity is wrapped up in his simple statement and declaration that he is the great “I AM”. Not the great “I am DOING”, not the great “I have DONE”, but simply, the one who IS.

If we are to derive any worth from this God, then we would do well to notice his posture. He is valued because he is, not because of what he has done. (And he has done aplenty, let me assure you of that.)

What’s my takeaway?

That it’s time to learn the lesson that I am valuable – and not because of what I do, but because of who I am. That if I’m uncomfortable it doesn’t mean that my level of personal success and self-worth isn’t where it should be; it simply means that I am uncomfortable. And that being is far better than doing.

This is the lesson I’m choosing to press in to during this season. This is the lesson I’m convinced God wants me to learn.

And God knows I’ll have plenty of time to process in the upcoming months…