Most days it takes a lot of effort to get my rear on the treadmill. Not because I have ginormous rear – although it most certainly isn’t dainty. I was pretty plus before plus was pretty. I simply struggle to get excited about the hamster race. I would much rather walk outside but when the cold blows in, I burrow inside the house like a bear ten days late for hibernation.
The dreadmill is in my bedroom. In the evening when I walk past it to go to my bathroom, I avoid eye contact. But I can feel it looking at me. It looks a lot like my mother when I would tell her a new story about the guy I was seeing who was totally wrong for me. It’s the look of “I love you. I want what’s best for you. You’re making a HUGE mistake. If you don’t figure this out soon, I’m going to have to go ‘Dr. Phil’ on you.” I know the treadmill wants what is best for me and I’ll feel better if I spend some time with it but sometimes I just don’t want to. I may or may not have stomped my foot when I typed that last line.
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve worked out and felt awesome afterwards. It doesn’t matter that just the day before I worked out and felt renewed. My short term memory is noncommittal. Today we’re back to playing hard to get.
I was thinking about while listening to a podcast of Pete Wilson from Crosspoint Church in Tennessee. It is the “Your Burning Bush” sermon which was the first in a 2013 series called Wide Awake. Any sermon that references both Katy Perry and Elizabeth Barrett Browning deserve your attention. Wilson was encouraging people to be wide awake to see God in the ordinary. How much more ordinary can you get than a dreadmill?
And, lo and behold, I saw God at a 5% incline at 3.2 mph.