For the Long Haul

This morning I left the house at 7:00am with two of the volunteers to go hiking in the mountains a few kilometers away from San Miguel de Allende with Miguel, our Director at the daycare. I knew nothing about the route we were going to take, other than Donna's warning that when Miguel says six hours, it may turn out to be 10. I did my best to prepare mentally.

And yet, an hour into the hike, as we were climbing straight up on a straight incline, battling through thorny bushes and avoiding animal droppings, scooting belly-down under barbed-wire fencing, I was ready to give up. I was at the back of the group, several yards behind, sweating profusely and breathing hard... "One hour more..." Miguel promised, then added the caveat, "Well, one Mexican hour." There was so much undergrowth that I for the life of me could not see where I was stepping...and then, the straw that broke the camel's back, the cherry on top of this misery sundae: I literally tripped and fell on my knees with a thud. Miguel's son turned around to make sure I was okay, then politely continued on, but I was fuming! I was regretting coming and complaining to myself, totally focused on the hardship of climbing this damned mountain! I could feel my morale collapsing on itself like a dying star.

I've been especially noting lately how easily I get discouraged when things become difficult. It doesn't take much at all for me to say, "Well, I'm out of here!" when things don't come to me naturally, easily and effortlessly. Or, if something does require a lot of effort, and involves failure, I need lots and lots and I mean lots of affirmation and encouragement to keep going. Case in point: going to the gym.

People who know me well know that I'm not one to push myself very hard. To me, just stepping foot in the gym is already a victory in and of itself. A month and a half ago, though, I made a resolution to dedicate six days a week to a weight-lifting program, with the goal of keeping it up until 20 December 2013. I thought it was reasonable enough; I enjoyed the routine, the structure and being able to see steady progress from week to week.

And yet, six weeks in, I was absolutely dragging @$$ getting to the gym, and even dreading it! Why? Because as from week to week I was getting stronger, I was increasing the difficulty by adding weight... So it was getting harder and harder, and I was tired of pushing myself so very hard! I arrived at a critical crossroads--give it up or keep going? As with today's hike, I decided to keep going, though nearly everything within me was screaming to just forget it already, and move onto something requiring less effort, less discipline, less perseverance.

I've been thinking lately about what it means to be in something 'for the long haul.' What does it mean to make a commitment, and to hold true to that commitment even when sometimes all the pleasure is gone from it, or the 'benefit' of that commitment can't presently been seen, or if I just don't 'feel' like staying true to it?

I am sharing all of these anecdotes because they are somewhat analogous to my commitment to God, my faith. For awhile now, my spiritual life has felt somewhat hollow and artificial--perfunctory almost. Somehow, nurturing my inner life through prayer, reading the Bible, reflection and meditation, fell out of my daily routine and habits. I had forgotten its value, and after awhile of neglecting it, began to consider it a tiresome duty, something I didn't really want to do, but knew that I should, like flossing my gums. My motivation to maintain my spiritual life was practically zero. I could see that it was slipping away from me, but it was like I was an outsider, looking indifferently on as I became more and more estranged from God.

How, at the age of 23, had I already 'burned out' spiritually? How had something that was arguably the most important thing in my life dropped down to the bottom of my list of priorities?

So again I return to the theme of my giving up easily when the going gets rough, and of hating to push myself. In the past 23 years, interacting God has been, frankly, intense. It has required me to re-examine how I understand the world, and myself... It has meant facing the 'demons' of self-doubt, fear of suffering, perfectionism... I've made decisions and life-choices in order to stay faithful to God and his holiness... Well, sometimes I don't want to always be grappling with huge metaphysical questions, and sometimes I don't want to see a mirror held up to my own soul to see the ways in which I deceive myself just to feel better about myself. Instead of taking a deep, honest look into the way things truly are, I'd much rather escape and live in ignorance. And trust me, there are plenty of convenient distractions in life to avoid facing the dysfunctions and hard realities of life.

But hiding in a cave from truth, I realized, is not satisfying. It's not 'real.' It's not actual living. And through a series of particularly incisive sermons at church, I realized that it was time to stop playing at religion and get back to actually engaging with God mano a mano, like old times.

You know what, though? It takes work, and discipline and perseverance--the very things I spend a lot of energy dodging in almost every area of my life. I'm trying to get back into the habit of praying daily, reading the Bible and actually paying attention to the meaning. To be honest, it's been a bit rough since I'm not accustomed to it anymore. And a lot of the time, as with the gym, I am dreading it and anticipating it to be difficult and demanding before I even crack open a book/journal.

"In arid times, when duty seems difficult and daily responsibilities have no attraction, when all spiritual consolation is denied us and the beautiful light that illumines life is veiled, in these times humble prayer alone can steady us and give us hour by hour and day by day the determination to act 'against our will.'"

-Servant of God Elisabeth Leseur

All this to say, I am coming up against my own immaturity lately. I've known for awhile that being easily discouraged, and constantly seeking comfort over challenge are some tendencies I'm going to need to overcome if I want to grow up for real.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it" (Hebrews 12:11).

But it's training time... And I'm doing everything in my power to dig deep and stay the course.