(PHOTO from Chris Lopez)

I may be addicted to working out. Not the running part (Actually, I hate the running part.) but the lifting weights part. I am amazed how much lifting weights relieves my stress and anxiety. I need some form of aggression release and weight lifting is it.

And for the record, I’m not one of those guys who stand in front of the mirror and do curls for 45 minutes. Since I know you’re curious, I do a modified version of this workout regimen. The exercises I do are not enjoyable. Squats, military presses, and dead lifts all in the same sequence forces you to focus (Sometimes throw up).

I have been known to hold in my anger, sadness, and grief until there is nowhere for it to go but out. And pushing my body to do things that it doesn’t want to do, I find euphoric. For that 45-60 minutes, nothing else matters.

But what I anticipate the most is the day after a workout. The next day, almost exactly 24 hours later, I hope to be sore. I mean like beat up sore.  The soreness is like my new caffeine. My crack (not buttocks although it hurts too). The soreness is proof. Proof, that I worked out legitimately. If I am not sore the next day, than I make the workout more difficult by adding weight or repetitions.

Eventually, I get stronger.

In the same manner, I am attempting to approach God and the Bible. I want my conversation with God leaving me sore. I need to know that I could have done better yesterday. I want the bible to make me realize that I need God more. I need to know that I don’t know enough.

If following these interactions I am the same as before they started, then I didn’t push myself hard enough. So I pray longer. I pray more honestly. I listen as intently as possible. And I realize God is greater. I read deeper. I read until I get kicked in the gut. I read until I notice that I suck. And I realize God is greater.

Eventually, I get stronger.

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