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A few weeks ago in a blog post I mentioned that during a church service one night I came to a turning point. A decision, a place I needed to get to on my own where I felt God saying to me “How many times Bethany?  How often will we go around about this.”  At that moment it was like that was all I needed to hear, to decide to move on.  To get over this hump and to realize just how often I HAD gone over this with God.  To realize just how much time, energy, tears, and worry I HAD put into this space that the Lord was closing the door on.  

As I have reflected on that these few weeks, I am just so aware of how much grace He has extended me during this process.  And how patient He is.  So patient.  He’s given me so much space to process, to make the decision on my own.  So much grace.  He’s patient and gentle.  

I’ve recently started Exodus with Calle while doing the Bible Recap plan and found myself like completely annoyed with Moses.  Truly.  I mean how many times do you think you need to remind God that you can’t speak, that you’ve got uncircumcised lips, that you’ve got this obstacle or that problem?  You just can’t do it on your own.  You need Aaron.  What if they say this or that…?  As if God didn’t know those things and still decided to choose you.  

Then the Lord, is His lovely ironic way, threw that one back on my lap.  Yeah tell me Bethany, how many times?!?

Here’s where I am going with this. 

Moses couldn’t get over and see past what he viewed as limitations and weaknesses.  The same limitations and weaknesses that God had created him with.  

This gets me thinking about and back to the flexing and training with the Gym Owner from my previous post in this flex series.  When we flex a muscle we are actually contracting our muscle because we’re creating tension that’s temporarily making the muscle fibers smaller or contracted. So, instead of moving weights, the muscle is being strengthened by holding still.  Like in a holding pattern.  A space or position that’s most likely uncomfortable.  

Hi.  I am here.  LOL.

I keep envisioning myself doing a wall sit.  Thighs burning, readjusting my back against the wall.  Breathing hard, probably red and sweat on my brow.  

Another use of the word flex is a slang term meaning “to show off,” whether it be your physique, your belongings, or some other thing you consider superior to those of others.

This team picture defines FLEX. 🙂

And THAT I think is why God gives us these weaknesses, these limitations.  These disabilities and impairments because HE wants to simply show up and FLEX.  God isn’t surprised by our weaknesses.  He’s not embarrassed by them or disappointed in finding us imperfect.  He created those in order that through those (and especially because our honest recognition of those) He may be made strong.  

In our weakness, He is strong.  

“Not by might, but by MY POWER,” says the Lord.  

He wants to FLEX.  

I need once again to shut down that inner critic saying to me “You are less then.”  And turn up that Holy Spirit voice inside of me saying, “I have made you.  I will carry you.  I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4

As soon as I can be again reminded of these truths, then somehow the struggle begins to shift.  My perspective of my struggle can rise above the pain and uncomfortable position I find myself in.  I begin to see purpose and truths in spite of the pain.  I start looking for changes, for forward movement, for encouragement and the will to endure.  I can dig in a little bit and begin to anticipate the pain with a renewed vision.  Flexing helps bring blood to your muscles, really helping build them up. … Flexing also helps isolate the muscle you are training, to really work it.  

The wall sit becomes worth the thigh pain, because there is a greater purpose to this pain.  The strengthening of my core, my muscles and my body is worth this momentary pain especially when I know that the trainer has my best interests, the full picture in mind.  

My willingness to work on the muscles He’s showing need developed, is part of the training.  Without that recognition they just keep being excuses. 

Reasons I can’t.  

Discarded dreams and unfulfilled missions and purpose.  

Stand ins doing the work He’s called me to do.  

When I choose to sit in it.  Stay in the uncomfortable.  Work with Him in the time I spend with Him.  Take seriously the words He says to me.  Put in the effort to pray and learn then … 

My flex can become His FLEX. 

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During an extremely difficult season of church ministry I received a mental picture from the Lord.  It was so direct.  So specific.  So me, that I couldn’t have forgot it even if I wanted to.  And let’s be clear I don’t EVER want to.  This revelation came to me at such a confusing, foggy, what-is-even-happening-right-now time that when I received it and began to pick it apart to understand, I realized it was a lifeline. 

A life preserver responding to my SOS. 

This was such a doozy that I am still picking it apart and the Lord is revealing messages to me through it.  I have the great privilege of being the sister-in-law to an extremely talented artist who could sketch for me my minds picture.  It was nearly perfect to what I saw in my mind that I cried when it came in the mail.  Go here with me. 

The setting is a dark, hole in the wall gym in some shady back city street.  Very Rocky Balboa.  Sweaty, swinging lights, and probably smelly.  The ring is dimly lit and there is a bag swinging in the center of it.  It’s a punching bag that’s been swinging, so you can tell it’s been recently used.  The bag has, instead of the everlast label, a label of “Bethany”.  This bag has been swinging.  It’s swinging from lies I’ve told myself, schemes of the enemy that have rattled me, past experiences that I just can’t seem to move past or that I let dictate my future.  Wounds that are bloody and raw.  It’s pitching back and forth from other’s perceptions or perceived realities and misunderstanding. Not only that, but this bag is swinging from punches delivered by other’s past experiences that have had nothing to do with me.  I’m not the only one delivering the punches.  Other’s lies they believe that project onto me.  Other’s wounds and pain that they are aware of and unaware of.  This bag, center of the ring, seems bruised and battered.  Slowly swinging, sometimes wildly swinging, but never out of control.  

This picture I’ve created with words has been my experience for a number of years in different situations not all of which have been church ministry. Family dynamics and other relationships and has only accelerated as I have begun to heal, take back ground in my mental, emotional, and spiritual health. And through Scotty and I creating, setting, and sticking to healthy boundaries for ourselves and our family.  The SOS I threw out was when the swinging hit an all-time, out of nowhere high in the Summer and Fall of 2020.  I felt like I was drowning, but unlike my previous rockbottom, this time I knew that I wouldn’t go under and never return. 

I asked for an SOS and HE SENT IT.  

Back to the gym.  As I sat receiving this picture from the Lord, I began to notice the chain that held the bag to the gym ceiling.  It was thick, interlocking chain and upon closer look I could see the links spelled out the word SALVATION.  Like a light bulb going on in my mind I realized the swinging wasn’t out of control, never would be, because that chain was unbreakable.  Nothing could ever take me out if that was my anchor.  If I was held and attached by that, nothing would or could rip me completely free.  Also I began to understand and see that no punch thrown at the bag was unseen by my Creator, my Sustainer, my Savior.  I was attached to him.  The gym owner saw it.  In fact part of why He created me, part of my purpose, part of the unique way He created and called me to this ministry position was for the training of others.  For the strengthening of others.  For the healing and restoring the health of others.  He had purchased me and installed me here in this gym for such a time as this.  

I can’t even explain to you the fortification that realization delivered to me. 

When there is purpose, I am there. 

When there is a plan, I am all in. 

For someone else’s benefit? I want to be a part of that. 

The swinging slowed.  The bag got a little denser.  Some of the pain eased.  Grace began to bloom.  Perspective shifted.  Compassion and empathy for myself but also for those in training with me.  

And then He revealed the gym owner.  Major, major Mr Miagi vibes.  LOL.  White muscle shirt, thin hair, and saggy jeans hanging low.  He was a long time, unruffled, been doin’ this my whole life gym owner.  HE had experience in this type of ring.  Been there done that, not even concerned about the swinging.  HE knew the actual strength of the bag.  What it could take, when enough was enough.  HE knew when to step in, call off the training and get to cleaning.  

He approached the bag with such slow and careful consideration.  Looking all over it, gently reaching out his hand to slow the swing.  He took out His spray bottle.  The spray bottle was labeled TRUTH.  TRUE LOVE.  HEALING.  RESTORATION.  He held the bag as he sprayed and began to wipe.  He wiped with towels that had been stitched with words like MY HEALING.  They hung over his shoulder with other towels like FURTHERING MY KINGDOM.  YOUR DEVELOPMENT.  DEPENDENCY ON ME.  YOUR HEALING.  RESTORATION.  

The careful, deliberate, intentional way the Gym Owner ministered to the bag to restore it for further use nearly did me in.  

I am not unseen. 

My pain is valid. 

My experiences are not without purpose.  

As I am sitting here putting my fingers to my keys.  Waiting on the Lord.  I push through, peel back those layers of doubts, work to silence that inner critic that says who do you think you are? 

You are such a poser. 

How can you begin without knowing the end? 

How can this matter? 

Why do you think your story matters?

The thing is I’m learning the difference between the voice of my inner critic and Holy Spirit. 

Holy Spirit says that every generation needs a library in its language. 

Only I can tell THIS story.  I am cowriting this book.  MY story for HIS GLORY.  

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There have been days in the past when I wished I had a t-shirt that said “Today is not the day.  And I am not the one.” 

And then I would wish that I had the guts to wear it… 

If I’m really honest, I’ve had strings of days like that, maybe because of a tough conversation, a frustrating day with the kids, or when I’ve felt stretched thin from too much going on in our lives.  

What I didn’t realize until recently is those feelings, feelings of anger in the form of resentment, the desire to isolate and “check out” from responsibilities, and the feeling of wanting to throw my hands up in the air in resignation are all rumble strips or warning signs of misalignment in my faith and life.  Just like the apostle Peter sinking when he took his eyes off of Jesus, these rumble strips have begun to help me recognize when I assuming control and beginning to do life on my own strength.  And inevitably, most every time and like many times before my own strength and control fail me. 

Fail me because my self imposed high standards can’t be met.  Fail me because even when I am not searching for imperfections, my mistakes assault me.  Fail me because when I’m out of alignment with Christ, my inner critic is louder than all the other voices, especially the voice that actually guides, heals, and satisfies, the Holy Spirit’s.  

And this is the place I found myself when I opened an email letting me know what I had provided wasn’t what they were looking for.  And to please try again. 

And I was like boxing gloves on, hold my hoops… come again?!?  

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