Pumping Iron

Almost a year ago, Roz and I began putting together a gym downstairs. It got used a little bit. But now is about to get doused in sweat. I have wanted to get some of the youth together to lift weights and go deeper spiritually. You can do some serious praying under the discipline of the iron.

So we have met twice. It looks like we have a core of 7. I hope more will come. But right now, we have this group, and it’s time to teach them about their bodies—muscles, nutrition, form, how the Bible links physical training to spiritual training.

Some of our kids need the chance to have a place to work out to get ready for sports.

Some need it for the focus.

It’s awesome to see the joy on their faces when they realize they can do something like this. It’s awesome to give them a goal. I see a determination in their faces that is not often there. I see them coming together to encourage each other. I like to see the pain when I make them do overhand curls. I like it when I hear them repeat what I said, that they would not be able to hold a pencil the next day, that when we do squats (tomorrow) they will wish they never met me. They are freaked out at how hard Jessica hits the punching bag, how she teaches them to square up, hit head on, and lean into it.

We do a devotion at the beginning. We pray at the end. A boy who has had a tough row to hoe with us is coming around. He is focused. Strong, and will get stronger. He steps up and leads by shouting encouragement. He prayed for the group at the end. To my knowledge it is the first time he prayed like that. In a few weeks, they will start leading the devotions.

You know my garden mania is ultimately about getting good food into the bellies of folks whose nutrition is what’s cheapest. These kids—they don’t have the same chance to play sports that I did. It’s not just that I played soccer—we had the money to feed me. When I’d lose 7 pounds a game, my old man didn’t care that I’d drink a gallon of orange juice, eat 4 or 5 bananas and ask for a triple bacon cheeseburger. That’s not an option here. Roz and I are rabid about getting these kids some good protein into their diets. “You bring the peanut butter, I’ll bring the milk,” he said.