|This is not me, but it might as well have been!|
Last weekend found me sitting atop a twelve foot tall rough wooden slide, staring down at a deep vat of mud below. This was what Melanie and I had come for: to get dirty and leave tired! Yet the question of sanity does come up when faced with giant mud vats in which you have paid to dunk and steep sandy bluffs which you have paid to climb.
|Melanie and I "BM": before mud|
But if this is insanity then I am certifiable, for as I contemplated my impending immersion, I could only think of one thing: getting as muddy as possible. This thought was quickly followed by the frantic recollection to keep my mouth closed, which registered only slightly too late.
And thus began the most dirty 45 minutes of my life.
Hug a wall, balancing on two inch wide footholds to escape windmilling into another mudhole? Check.
Successfully navigate the monkey bars while the guy who has gained ten pounds of muscle in the last month couldn’t hang on? Check.
Complete a 5K mud run by swimming through an ice bath with my brave sister Melanie? Check.
As I crossed the finish line, exhilaration swelled up within me, and not just at the prospect of a hot shower. I had just spent an hour about as far out of my comfort zone as I could get, and, comfortable or not, at that moment I was exhilarated!
When my alarm rang early that morning, I had been exhausted.
When I faced the first obstacle of the race—a slippery plastic pipe that went up to my chest—I had been nervous, sure I would fall and make a fool of myself.
And when I neared the finish line, I had been more disgustingly dirty and sweaty than I had ever been in my life.
Nevertheless, when I crossed the finish line, I was exhilarated. And it was in that exhilarated, mud-caked state that I realized something revolutionary: being comfortable is not a sin, but it can be a distraction, a beguilement, and an idol.
It can become a barbed wire fence that walls out what God wants for you.
It can become an insatiable lion, with an appetite that always wants more.
It can become the benchmark by which you make all decisions, replacing the Bible as absolute in your life.
But what if I lived every day like a run through the mud? What if every day I sprinted at the start line, lived outside of my comfort zone, and finished exhausted and stinky, but satisfied? Those would be days to remember.
So get out of the easy chair. Put down the iced latte. Roll up your sleeves. Say good bye to hallowing comfort above completion, and get ready for some mud!
|Still muddy even after the ice bath and soap suds!|