Beads of sweat gather on my forehead and course toward my eyes, trying to blind me with their saltiness.

Squat. Push. Press.

Squat. Push. Press. Squat…

I push my butt down toward the floor and pump my body up, raising the weights in my hands above my head as I come up. I’ve been at this for a minute, huffing my way through a couple of 12 rep sets. The painful tension across my muscles is a good pain.

It feels good to sweat. It feels good to be back in the gym after a long hiatus… after completely falling off the wagon once again.  It’s been several weeks in a row now and I’m proud of myself.

Squat. Push. Press.

I watch myself in the mirror and think about how well my new job is going, how my hopefully well-rested brain is managing all that I’m learning day to day. I think about how life seems to be getting better in general, after the intense difficulty of the past 12 months.

When my thoughts return to the tension in my muscles, I consider, with inward approval, how I’m back at it – banging out consistent muscle-building workouts in the gym.

And with words I no longer remember, I say to myself some version of “Girl, you did that!”

“YOU?” – I hear, not with my ears, but inwardly, and immediately know that I’ve screwed up.

I pause mid-air. “Uh, I mean, um, not in that way. I know it’s always you God.”

The boastfulness of the moment before has evaporated in even less time. But it’s still too late. The contents of my heart have spilled out and it is not good.

I hadn’t even made it through a single project at work or rebuilt a muscle to flex, and here I was, already trying to take the credit.

God had led me to stop working, I thought, for a short time. Then I had actually lost my job because I couldn’t return full time. I wasted money on an expensive medical treatment that didn’t work. And blew through my savings and humble unemployment benefits. Yet, I didn’t miss one meal, therapy appointment, or essential medication, nor did I need to run from any bill. I was covered, completely.

By the time God told me to return to work (away from my prior employer) and I landed a job over six months later, I’d had plenty of evidence that I wasn’t the reason that I was still standing. The struggle had been real and I knew that the only reason I hadn’t lost it was because of God’s being in it with me.

There’s a reason the Bible says that pride comes before a fall (Proverbs 16:18).

Because it does. 

After that fateful day at the gym, before I even knew what was happening, I was off the wagon again – at home snacking and sleeping instead of putting in work at the gym. Unruly hormones ravaged my skin and my sense of normalcy, making me moody, exhausted, stuck in my negative thoughts and even more anxious all at once.

I experienced some scary deja vu as I was back to feeling bone tired after work, struggling to concentrate, getting easily confused by what I read and finding it difficult to follow along in conversations. I had fallen far and it was terrifying.

But why? I’d had the memories of the last year etched into my psyche. I didn’t need to relive them in order to be reminded of their difficulty or how I had needed to cling to God to help me through each and every day.

Or so I thought.

I bounced back, but apparently, I did need that reminder, and it was nothing nice. Thankfully, I know that getting the lesson now saves me from having to repeat it later. That is, if I don’t forget again.

Thankfully, this is the kind of God we have. One who doesn’t share the credit for miracles. But who also won’t abandon us when we forget to give credit where it’s due or, even, when we try to steal it for ourselves.

💜