I am a very weird person in that I love my treadmill.
For me, the treadmill was not simply a tool in which you run to lose weight and stay healthy. It was a means of escape. For forty minutes and two and a half miles 6-days a week, I could put headphones in my ears and transport to anywhere, be anyone and accomplish anything. It was a place where surreal experiences could become a reality.
It was until God began to deal with me about it.
Earlier this summer, He whispered in my ear and reminisced about how far He has brought me and what an amazing transformation my life has been. But, then he nudged me and suggested how much more incredible it would be if I gave him everything.
“Everything Lord?” I asked. “I have given you everything.”
“Give me the treadmill.”
The words hit hard. It was the hardest thing He could have asked at this point in my life. As long as I had my treadmill I could eat what I want since I could walk it off later. If I was angry, I could use the negative energy to walk an extra mile. If I was in physical pain, I would walk on the treadmill and prove that I could do it in spite of my disability. You see, to give up my treadmill would mean I would have to be completely dependent upon God.
It took a little prodding, but in the end I released the treadmill to the Lord. I stopped getting on it. The dust began to collect and I left it there untouched. Each day I would temper the desire to beat myself up on the treadmill by spending time building myself up in the presence of God.
In God’s funny way, this lesson came just in time as I have had scoliosis since the sixth grade and have already undergone two spinal fusion surgeries. After encountering more back issues this year, it turns out that walking on the treadmill was causing more harm than good.
Yesterday, we sold my treadmill. If this transaction had taken place earlier this year, the buyer would have had to peel me off the machine, but as it was, I was happy to see it go.
God is my strength, my provider, my counselor and my All. No longer will I need a machine to prove that.
Now let’s just hope the number on the scale doesn’t go up...