[Background.] Before I start this post, I need to give you a quick background on me. For the last four years I’ve gone rock climbing at least twice a week (usually at the local gym because real rocks are too far away). I love the sport. It’s a passion of mine. The weekend before Easter, I strained one of my fingers by climbing something too hard before warming up. (Remember, kids, proper stretching and warm-up is key for any athletic activity.) I took the month off because I didn’t want to hurt myself further. [End background.]
I went climbing yesterday. It was the second outing since I took a month off to heal. Because I’m trying to avoid hurting myself again, I climbed for less time than normal and on considerably easier climbs. After about an hour of climbing, my previously hurt finger began to throb when I pulled on it wrong. There are two reasonable solutions to that sort of tendon pain: (1) Climb easier runs. (2) Take more time off climbing.
I ended up picking option (1), but I had to talk myself into it. My initial reaction to feeling that familiar throbbing in my finger was a desire to climb harder, to use the finger more, to push, tweak, yank or otherwise mistreat my finger because it shouldn’t be hurting. In a bout of unimaginable stupidity, I wanted to punish my finger for being hurt. Please don’t think that I somehow mentally separated the pain that my finger was going to experience during this punishment from me. I knew that it was going to hurt me, and I was okay with that.
That, my friends, is self-destructive behavior. Well, self-destructive thought patterns anyway. As I said earlier, I ended up climbing easier runs. My finger quit bugging me when I gave it a break. But the thought, the desire to hurt because I wasn’t adequate, was there. Who thinks like that? Who looks at someone struggling and hates them for not achieving fast enough?
Moments like that remind me that no matter how much theology I learn, no matter what I say on this site, in person, or in prayer, no matter what clothes I wear or job I work, I am still the worst kind of sinner. This is hard to write without it sounding like I walk around most of the time thinking that I’m some sort of super-good Christian man. That’s not the case at all. Most of the time I walk around thinking I’m just a kinda alright guy. But moments like the one I described above remind me that I have the potential to become someone I really wouldn’t like.
It’s incredibly unpleasant, looking inward and seeing not only the potential to be what Christ wants me to be but the potential to be something infinitely darker. It makes a guy appreciate the grace that’s been given.
I went climbing yesterday. It was the second outing since I took a month off to heal. Because I’m trying to avoid hurting myself again, I climbed for less time than normal and on considerably easier climbs. After about an hour of climbing, my previously hurt finger began to throb when I pulled on it wrong. There are two reasonable solutions to that sort of tendon pain: (1) Climb easier runs. (2) Take more time off climbing.
I ended up picking option (1), but I had to talk myself into it. My initial reaction to feeling that familiar throbbing in my finger was a desire to climb harder, to use the finger more, to push, tweak, yank or otherwise mistreat my finger because it shouldn’t be hurting. In a bout of unimaginable stupidity, I wanted to punish my finger for being hurt. Please don’t think that I somehow mentally separated the pain that my finger was going to experience during this punishment from me. I knew that it was going to hurt me, and I was okay with that.
That, my friends, is self-destructive behavior. Well, self-destructive thought patterns anyway. As I said earlier, I ended up climbing easier runs. My finger quit bugging me when I gave it a break. But the thought, the desire to hurt because I wasn’t adequate, was there. Who thinks like that? Who looks at someone struggling and hates them for not achieving fast enough?
Moments like that remind me that no matter how much theology I learn, no matter what I say on this site, in person, or in prayer, no matter what clothes I wear or job I work, I am still the worst kind of sinner. This is hard to write without it sounding like I walk around most of the time thinking that I’m some sort of super-good Christian man. That’s not the case at all. Most of the time I walk around thinking I’m just a kinda alright guy. But moments like the one I described above remind me that I have the potential to become someone I really wouldn’t like.
It’s incredibly unpleasant, looking inward and seeing not only the potential to be what Christ wants me to be but the potential to be something infinitely darker. It makes a guy appreciate the grace that’s been given.
Comments
By the way, there have been studies done that show that stretching does not prevent injury. I'm not sure but in my testing of the subject, I get hurt all the time no matter what.
Fruit salad
Yummy, yummy!
Fruit salad
Yummy, yummy!
They're not at all relevant, but I can't get the Wiggles tune out of my head.
Sorry, got distracted by F&D there.
Great post, I preached on this last night! Just so you know. I'm not going to bore you by rehashing the sermon in comment form, just a reminder that God works in us, even when we don't know it! And, to quote the cosmetics ads, he loves you 'because you're worth it!'
Don't tell me that my high school gym teacher lied to me. I don't think I could handle that.
F&D,
I try to keep this site fairly not-dark-and-depressing because I'm really not all that dark and depressing of a guy. But it happens on occasion.
Alastair,
Glad you liked it. Not sure how I feel that it made you think of a cosmetics ad though.