Dread consumed me as soon as I heard rope climbing was in the workout for the morning. I’m all for a challenge and a good workout but this one brought some baggage with it. Flashback 20 years or so to a class full of middle schoolers taking turns at scaling a rope to the top of the gym. Anyone that could touch the beam on the ceiling earned membership on the “beam team.” Let’s just say I never made that team. Never even came close.
So, I stood there on that August morning in 2016 100% convinced that I wouldn’t be able to climb this rope because I still saw myself as that middle school girl who never had much success with this activity. Nonetheless, I was persuaded to at least try and was completely shocked when I started to make my way up the rope. One pull after another led to absolute elation when I reached the top.
With all the excitement, I not only ignored the friction occurring between my leg and the coarse rope, I went back for two more rounds of climbing. This became more than a workout. I had something to prove to myself. Unfortunately, that rope had something to prove to me also…ropes burn skin. In my case, about 2-3 inches worth above my ankle on the outside of my right leg. I initially brushed it off as a minor injury and a small price to pay to prove I wasn’t that middle school girl anymore. I was stronger now, or so I thought, and for a few days I was pretty proud of my little battle wound. But, the price that initially seemed so small soon became very costly and literally left me scarred.
As the days passed, the burn grew painful and started to turn quite ugly despite my best efforts to treat it. I’ll spare all the details but infection, multiple trips to the doctor (at which point it was diagnosed as a second-degree burn), complications from the antibiotics, and several weeks of limitations followed.
In a matter of days, I went from feeling strong and on top of the world to feeling weak and broken. That’s what’s bound to happen though when we look to our own strength to prove our worth. We feel valued and worthy when we succeed but unwanted and ashamed when we fail. Throughout the course of our lives, we will have our share of successes, but we will also experience plenty of failures. Therefore, what we desperately need is a value that is not contingent upon how we perform.
Does this really exist? One might wonder if looking for it in a world that is so focused on measuring up and keeping up. But, the pages of Scripture are filled with assurances that yes, it really does exist. Psalm 139 confirms that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, knitted together by his hands (v 13-16). On the palms of those hands we remain engraved, completely unforgettable (Isaiah 49:15-16). Even the number of hairs on our head are known to him (Luke 12:7). Throughout his Word, God uses images of precious valuables to signify the worth of his people. Treasured possession (Deuteronomy 7:6). Crown of beauty and a royal diadem in his hand (Isaiah 62:3). His glorious inheritance (Ephesians 1:18).
What that middle school girl hadn’t grasped yet, and what this 30 something adult too often forgets, is that when we root our identity in who God says we are, we have nothing left to prove. Because of Jesus, significance is ours to claim regardless of how we perform or measure up.
You’ll still find me more days than not in the gym, but this experience has reminded me how important it is to guard against allowing what I do define who I am, not just there but in all aspects of life. If I don’t, I set myself up to walk away broken and scarred.