Wednesday Wonder

 At my age a trip to the gym is a necessary but disillusioning proposition. No, you are not the physical specimen you once were. There are growing limits. But resolve, moderation and more than a little grace help to keep body and mind together. As most will testify invigorating our physical selves has benefits for the rest of us – our emotional well being, mental focus and overall energy.

One morning last week I awakened early, threw on my sweats and headed off to put in my time. After a while I found myself in one part of the gym doing some exercises. I was surrounded by a menagerie of guys doing the same thing. One was a young Spartan who looked like he might be training for the next Olympics. He was accompanied by someone who looked like his big brother. He might have been in the Olympics ten years ago. Then there was me, who was a second-stringer right along the way.

As we exerted ourselves I paused between sets to look down the way. On the far end of the room there was an elderly woman on a walker, facing a workout mirror and lifting small dumbbells. That was a pretty amazing sight in and of itself, but there was more. I could see a long plastic tube heading from her head all the way down to the basket on the front of her walker. What the tube led to was an oxygen bottle.

So here was an elderly woman on a walker and oxygen doing her workout. I froze in place. And then I turned to my gathering of sweaty strangers, pointed toward the woman in the distance and said, “Hey guys, look at that.” They stopped and stared, not venturing a word. That silence stood out since this particular group of men tends to be rather verbose. Finally there was “wow” and “awesome” and “I can’t believe it.” Right, I can’t believe it either.

But do believe it. I said, “Ok, she wins the award, the gold medal for courage.” And we all shook our heads and went back to grunting and groaning. I decided to stop whining about my old injured shoulder and my increasing need for more rest stops.

It’s true that the life situation of another puts our own life into greater perspective. And it’s also true that inspiration comes from unexpected places. But what struck me most powerfully in that moment was just how relative are our notions of accomplishment and success. By far the most courageous, committed, and persistent person in the room was not the most buff, in shape or even healthy. It was the person who, on the outside, appeared the weakest. But, as the apostle Paul reminds us, God’s power is revealed under the auspicious of weakness. With that backdrop there is no confusing the treasure with the earthen vessel that holds it.  In our weakness strength is revealed, whether on a walker or on the cross.

We’re all on oxygen, really, competing in the Special Olympics of life, striving with what we’ve got, not with what we don’t. What matters in the end are the faith, hope and love that animate us. And I heard somewhere that the greatest of these is love.