The Weight Vest

I’ve started working out with a weighted vest, a training tool that is pretty much like it sounds. A vest with individual pockets into which weights can be added, 3 pounds at a time. A way to incrementally add effort to any activity, with each additional weight block my workout is initially harder. But after some time at that increased weight, I’m ready to add more.

The weight vest strikes me as a particularly practical metaphor. Just as my vest adds effort to my physical body in order to strengthen it, life seems to have a way of adding weight to help me develop greater inner strength too.

Every courageous conversation strengthens us for the next one.

Every difficult decision readies us for the ones still to come.

Every obstacle overcome prepares us to take on new ones.

Every time we take on the hard work of mending what’s broken in our hearts, we increase our capacity to love wholeheartedly.

Every courageous step emboldens us to take the next one.

Maybe what is true of a weight vest is true of the rest of life too. Added effort today strengthens us for what life brings our way tomorrow.

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

When I was a freshman in college, my parents flew me home for my birthday in October. They had rented a wonderful cabin for the weekend in Central Oregon, and in front of the fire, over a glass of wine, they couldn’t wait to hear all about my fall semester adventures.

At which point I burst into tears.

I told them how miserable I was, and how much I hated it. I was lonely, lost, and wanted to come home. Now.

After a long moment, my dad quietly said, “Tell you what. If at the end of spring semester you still feel this way, you can come home. Stick it out until then.”

Endurance.

He was asking me to endure what felt like an impossible situation. Not forever. Just until the end of the school year. I didn’t like the idea, but I did it. Probably no surprise, but by the end of the year you couldn’t have pried me away from school with a crowbar.

Endurance is a quality that can only be cultivated by enduring. By sticking with it when the going gets tough, we develop staying power. Continuing to grind our way through, we hit the pay dirt of inner grit. By tolerating the discomfort, we become tenacious.

My dad didn’t give me an out, he gave me a light at the end of the tunnel. And the only way to get there was on my own two feet. Finding my way through that long-ago tunnel of endurance then, has served to remind me that I can do so again.

When we find ourselves in another tunnel, in the midst of what feels like an impossible situation, it’s time to find a light, no matter how dim or distant, and with dogged determination, make our way there.