Spiritual Posture: Letting Go of Control

Some of the most powerful life lessons are the simplest, and they come to us in the most humble ways. I was on a walk with my daughter the other day, and she happened to notice that I was looking down in front of my feet as I walked. Being a young woman who speaks her mind, she pointed out that my shoulders were hunched-I was not walking with good posture.  I explained to her that ever since my ACL and meniscus repair surgery a year ago, I found myself watching the ground in front of my feet for unevenness, cracks, water-anything that might cause me to trip or stumble. That was my second ACL repair on that knee, third one in all, so I'm a little gun shy of certain movements. "So it's self-preservation."  And then she added, "Well, your posture is terrible."  She was right. I had become aware not long ago of my tendency to do this, and was working on it, but her insights caused me to think deeper about the implications of this habit. There's simply no way to explain to someone who's never had a similar surgery how unnerving it can be to lose your footing, or trip on a stupid crack in the sidewalk.

On my walk today, I caught myself doing it again, but this time, I was alone, and I was working through some personal issues in my head, specifically, several uncertainties that have arisen in my life.  My Christian music Matt Redman Pandora station was pumping through my ear buds, and I was in deep thought with things, most of which are out of my control. Not a place I like to find myself. So when I realized I was looking down again, I stopped, and that's when truth hit me, and the still, small voice of the Lord broke through my clouded vision. For the rest of that hour, He and I did business together. Here's what we came up with. It was a simple lesson in the physical realm that had deep emotional and spiritual implications and applications.

• Look up. When I look down, I'm focusing on the wrong thing. I'm missing out. We attract what we focus on. Just like my physical posture is affected when I focus on the ground, so too is my spiritual posture when I focus on my problems instead of the problem solver. Not only am I missing out on what's going on around me, I become too self-focused. And hunched--and that's downright unattractive. Keep my eyes on the Lord, not on myself or my problems.  

Trust the surgeon.  He really did know what he was doing. Walk with care, but trust that the surgery was successful. I have no reason to believe otherwise. Trust the physical therapist. Trust all those dang exercises he made you do! Relax, rest, and trust God. The Lord has never let me down. All my uncertainties, fear, and anxieties can be laid at His feet. 

When I trained in martial arts, which was how I tore my ACLs in the first place, I learned a trick that originated with dancers. When doing a spin kick, we were taught to find a spot on the wall and fix our eyes on that.  This serves two purposes: one, it keeps you in line and centered; secondly, it keeps you from getting dizzy when you spin around. When I learned how to break boards, I was taught to focus not on the board, but what is on the other side. If you fix your eyes on the board, all your body's energy goes into that board, and it stops at the board. Boards will not break that way, but when your focus is beyond the board, your energy doesn't stop at the board, it keeps going through the board, and it will break. Spend some time pondering the life application with that one! How many times have you focused on that one thing and failed to look beyond it? Goals, challenges, obstacles--whatever it may be; when we focus on IT instead of what's beyond it, we lose momentum, energy, passion. We limit ourselves.

After the weight of all this life stuff hit me and I soaked it in, I decided to take myself to the next level. I don't believe in testing God, but I was testing my own dedication and belief. I needed to break through the thoughts that were limiting me physically, but the ramifications went way beyond. My eyes focused on the trail ahead, shoulders back, with a deep breath, I began to run. Well, I should clarify. I don't run. I don't really like to run, and what I did could hardly be classified as running, more like a slow trot. I was never a "runner" by today's standards, but years ago I would occasionally go out and jog a couple miles. I have friends who are runners, and I certainly don't belong in their category. After three knee surgeries, I have not had the confidence, but I needed to know that if I wanted to run, I could. What happened exceeded my expectations. Not only did I run, excuse me, trot, for almost half a mile, I did so without pain or discomfort, and with confidence. You won't see me out running any 5K's anytime soon, but who knows.

Such big life truths from something like my dumb ACL injuries, but that's often how God breaks through our stubborn, heard-headed selves, using our own crap, limitations, challenges, and wounds. My uncertainties are still there, hanging out in space somewhere, waiting for answers. I can't change or control the outcome, but I can choose not to focus on them but on something far more reliable. So here's my challenge to you: what are your eyes fixed on? Are you staring at the board and not beyond it? In what area of your life do you need to look up, fix your eyes, trust, and break through? Peace and big grace to you.