I Believe

“I lift my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, who made Heaven and earth.”
- Psalm 121:1

When Jesus asked the once blind beggar if he believed in the Son of Man, the man asked, "Who is he? That I may believe." Jesus said, "You're seeing Him. It is He that is speaking to you." With his eyes open, the beggar's next words: I believe.

I believe. What a powerful statement. Down through the centuries men and woman have staked their lives and their eternity on those two tiny words. We're going to wrap our hearts around them.

When I first started PrayFit back in 2009, much of what I'd do and say was hard-charged. Each day - like we had taken over enemy territory - I'd drive a stake in the ground with the still-certain truth that faith was the most powerful tool we have to conquer life's obstacles. Our mission was to help the Church body take back their health, and I was going to help lead that charge as long as I could breathe.

The last few years - as some of you realize - the message changed. When I got sick, I learned first-hand that you don't always get what you work for, and things like illness are as much or more of an opportunity to exercise faith as is health or fitness. God taught me that health is a gift of His grace. Like eyesight, it's a gift we can't earn but can most certainly waste.

In Christian artist For King and Country's song "Shoulders," they answer Psalm 121:

“My help comes from you. You’re right here pulling me through. You carry my weakness, my sickness, my brokenness, all on your shoulders. My help comes from You. You are my rest, my rescue. I don’t have to see to believe you’re lifting me up on your shoulders.”

ALL HIS
Friends, I hope the mountain you face today reminds you of both the Psalmist and the blind beggar. They lifted their eyes and believed. May you and I believe that God is right here pulling us through. The weakness, sickness, brokenness, the fitness. All of it. His.

I mentioned last week that “progress” has become the tolerable idol. In fact, you may be reading this and you say, “Perfection? Hell no. But progress? Hell bent.” I may be off, but I’m guessing you won’t beg to differ.

But what happens when progress isn’t possible? I’ll tell you what happens. You keep pushing against an immovable wall. You keep pulling, stepping and striving. Why? How? Because things change when you realize the fleeting nature of health. You look down at your feet and catch your breath only to see that the steps ahead don’t look much different than the ones that brought you to where you stand. And you wonder. You wonder how you got here and what it was all for.

IS THIS WHY?
Last week over text message, out of the blue my physical therapist asked me what time church service was. I’ve been seeing him for 10 years. Ever since it was replaced with artificial disks, I’ve trusted my neck to nobody’s hands but his. And in all these years, he’s not been to church. All of a sudden, I get a text. And I respond. And Sunday comes. And we sit together. And we sing. I can’t hear him, but out of my periphery I try and see if his lips are moving.

As the song, “How great is our God” echoes through the chapel, I find myself wondering, “Is this little moment a part of God’s bigger plan? Is this why my neck went bad? Is this why I’m so frail; so that after a decade of appointments we would arrive at this divine one?

I suppose God’s will can easily break a back.

#GIVING2UESDAY
Today is #GivingTuesday. The day when the crowds leave the rotunda and the non-profits are left to promote their causes. The once crowded floor is riddled with Black Friday deals, Small Business steals and Cyber Monday coupons. And on the last day of the conference so to speak, charities wait their turn, set up their booths and stand in honor.

Well, among them you’ll find an old beat up writer who realizes that health (or illness) isn’t about “self-care” or being “enough” or “comfortable in your own skin” or being “free.”

It’s about mountains and moments. It’s about catching your breath and trembling at His voice. It’s realizing that your strongest lift - in God’s eyes - is just a measure of your best weakness. It’s about embracing atrophy and fighting gravity. It’s gritting your teeth as they scope you, diagnose you and warn you. It’s about wrestling with Ecclesiastes to realize that “progress” is smoke unless as it disappears - by grace - you can fix your eyes upon the Lord and like the blind beggar proclaim (maybe along with a buddy)…“I believe.”

- Jimmy Peña

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GIVING TO THE BODY
PrayFit presents The Body; a determined group of passionate disability advocates cleverly disguised as fitness enthusiasts. We're asking runners, lifters, swimmers, cyclists, dancers, those who do yoga, pilates and just about anyone with the gift of mobility to give anything they can. In fact, $2 is a good start.

Please donate to help us purchase wheelchairs and to provide special needs care. It's secure and life-changing. Because you're hard-chargers, this will be the least passive donation you may ever make. Once you give, all you do is train. Kids will get the gift of mobility because of you. Parents will have respite care due to your giving and grit. Thank you.

The Deepening Root

If you watched our latest video about The PrayFit story on the homepage, you may have caught a line in there amid my suffering when I say, “I just resigned.” Basically, I gave up. I was in the grip of a stronger opponent and I had one choice. See, when you're down on the mat, and the wrestler has his grip on you - the grip that has made you powerless - fighting isn't the way out of his grasp. Surrender is.

Looking at the word surrender the last few days peels away layer after layer of worldly nonsense, stripping away all levels of "self" until you're left with the unavoidable and glorious conclusion that we are here to pursue God and everything that phrase entails. So complex, right? Especially among hard-chargers and fighters like us?

THE TEST
Well, I alluded yesterday that at one time in my life “progress” was my Isaac - my tolerable idol - and yet I was no Abraham. Well, something Tozer said has me shifting in my seat as I type this sentence. He called it The Testing Point.

He says, “If we are set upon the pursuit of God, He will sooner or later bring us to this test. We will be brought one by one to the testing place, and we may never know when we are there. At that testing place there will be no dozen possible choices for us - just one, and an alternative - but our whole future will be conditioned by the choice we make.”

And when it came to Abraham, God said to him in effect, "It's all right Abraham. I never intended that you should actually slay the lad. I only wanted to remove him from the temple of your heart that I might reign unchallenged there."

HE KNOWS HIS RANK
See, Abraham has just made his heart right with God. He realizes his rank. He knows his place. And more importantly, he knows God's place. And God allows Abraham the gift of Isaac, and in effect all of the promises of God and the future generations.

Fast-forward to a weary, broken down fitness writer sharing his thoughts on the screen with some fellow brothers and sisters in Christ that he loves dearly. (That's you and me.) What does Abraham's story of surrender at his testing place have to do with us all these years later? What does the temple of his heart have to do with the temple of ours?

Tozer says. "The blessed ones have rooted from their hearts all sense of possessing. These are the "poor in spirit." But the ancient curse will not go out painlessly. He will not lie down and die in obedience to our command. He must be torn out of our heart like a plant from the soil. He must be expelled from our soil by violence."

NOT PAINLESS
Plainly put, if our pursuit of fitness or our battle with what’s broken isn't leading us to a deeper knowledge of God, then that ache - the deepening root - that buries itself within our fibers and nourishes our desire for great health needs to be uprooted by force. And guys, it's not painless. It doesn't go away easily. It doesn't lie down in obedience. But it's when we stop fighting, stop comparing, stop striving, stop masking; that's when we overcome the enemy. It's when we tap out - even if it means being in worse physical shape - that we gain all things. It's when we surrender that-  "ours is the Kingdom of Heaven."

So with Thanksgiving tomorrow, may God root from our hearts those things which we have cherished so long and which have become a very part of our living selves. (Those things we can’t live without.)

It may not happen today, but I pray each of us can stamp our heel into whatever "thing" has had us bound. Could be body image, social media pressure, status, supreme fitness, debilitating illness and suffering, name it. In a world that demands that we possess everything - may we raise our weary hands with Thanksgiving in our hearts, turn over our palms, open our little fingers and say, tis blessed to possess nothing. I have Jesus - my everything.

And this, my friends, is the difference between commitment and surrender. At least, this is what it means to me.

- jimmy pena

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE.
Thankful for each of you and grateful to spend a few minutes with you each week…

Surrendered or Committed

Surrendered or committed. Which are you? Which am I? Depending on the day, I’m both (and neither) which scares me a little. But when it comes to drawing a line between being committed or surrendered, I thought I’d look to an old favorite of mine…A.W. Tozer. Might as well go to Cooperstown, right?

Imagine a little boy stepping into the batter's box to face Nolan Ryan in game 7 of the World Series. An oversized helmet hangs over his little eyes as he tries to hit a 100mph pitch with a baseball bat he can hardly lift off the ground. Got the visual? Good. That's how I feel as I sit down to wrap my brain around the word “Surrender” using A.W. Tozer's The Pursuit of God.

Although, it's actually not the entire work I'll be taking a swing at, it's just one chapter. Well, I say "chapter" but it's really just a few pages of the chapter. Ok, fine. Let's call it a few lines from a couple of pages of one chapter. Batter up, kid.

So here’s the pitch. There is a “blessedness of possessing nothing;” which for our sake means surrendering even muscle, endurance, strength, breath, and life. Now, that’s major. Commitment on the other hand is minor leagues. Slow pitch stuff.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love commitment. LOVE it. It takes ability, it takes motivation, it takes guts, the drive and a thousand other gifts; traits I still have despite progressive limits.

But picture it. A thousand workouts ago, I remember breathing the chalk into my lungs and the taste of salty sweat on my lips under teeth marks to boot as I tightened my belt about my waist. Got the visual? I was committed. I held one of the most coveted positions in all of fitness publishing. Best-selling books lined my library. I was devout. Sounds almost sacrilegious to say, but training was my Isaac. My everything. Tell me to sacrifice it though, and I was no Abraham. No way was I going to forfeit the gym.

So with that said, if you have a belt, put it on. Or if you have a mouthpiece, put that in. Because listen to what Tozer says:

”In the deep heart of the man was a shrine where none but God was worthy to come. Our woes began when God was forced out of His central shrine and "things" were allowed to enter. Within the human heart "things" have taken over. Men have now by nature no peace within their hearts, for God is crowned there no longer, but there in the moral dusk stubborn and aggressive usurpers fight among themselves for first place on the throne.

There is within the human heart a tough fibrous root of fallen life whose nature is to possess, always to possess. It covets "things" with a deep and fierce passion. The roots of our hearts have grown down into things, and we dare not pull up one rootlet up lest we die.”

Please feel free to read and re-read that from Tozer and connect it to your passion for fitness, or the gym or to “progress.” Progress - of course - has become the tolerated, admirable idol. Even in my broken state, with my mortality in mind and my frailty in frame, my health competes for the crown of my heart. Am I alone? Have the roots of fitness or progress grown down into your soul so deep that if you were to pull them up you think you’d die? If so, I understand. And it’s during this week of Thanksgiving that we can recalibrate that.

Are we committed to health or have we surrendered our health? There is a difference. What does that mean to you?

- Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: Does this entry deserve a part two? I think it does. In an effort to keep it brief, I held back so many thoughts. Anybody mind if I keep going? Hope not.

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GEARING UP FOR #GIVINGTUESDAY

Speaking of surrender, PrayFit presents "The Body" - a community of determined, generous, and passionate fitness-minded people like you giving anything they can to serve those with special needs. With #GivingTuesday fast-approaching, we pray you'll join us by giving $2/mo (just $2) and encourage others to do the same. You can start today.

No Grit Without Grace

"Every good and perfect gift comes from above." --James 1:17

Read: James 1

Yesterday at church, Pastor Shawn Thornton discussed the difference between being committed or being surrendered to spiritual things in our hearts; a perfect topic leading into Thanksgiving week. It made me think of a few bodily stewardship issues as you can imagine.

What is the difference between being committed to your health and surrendering it? I plan to tackle the question this week. Fascinating.

Yesterday on social media I raised the questions, “Do you earn your health? Is your health a gift or a trophy?” If you get a chance, please visit our Facebook page. Some truly wonderful responses came through. But you've likely seen someone post that health is "Always earned, never given." Sounds reasonable, right? You put in the work, you get the reward. 

Sounds reasonable, but it's not exactly true. Granted, some people appropriately celebrate their health (and hopefully more and more of us each day), but even the byproducts of that discipline -- toned muscle, greater endurance, increased strength -- gift...gift...gift. Oh we don't like to admit it. We like to think we've earned the right to raise that banner and boast, "I EARNED THIS!"

But in truth, it's when we realize we have undeserved and unearned health that we can make the greatest impact with it. You’ve heard me say it before, but every byproduct of grit is a gift of grace.

But it’s more complex than that isn’t it? Consider the flip-side. There are those among us who are statistically apparently healthy, but who choose a sedentary lifestyle over an active one. Those who opt for poor food choices over balanced, sensible meals. Despite great genetics, honorable physical stewardship is the furthest thing from their minds.

If you're like me, you may have people close to you who have absolutely no health issues, but have no issue with ignoring it. Alive but not living. Healthy vital signs? Sure. Earned? No. A gift. An unopened gift.

Whether they're opened or still neatly wrapped, the Bible says that every single gift comes from above and that includes the body. Dallas Willard famously said, “Grace is not opposed to effort, it’s opposed to earning.” Like I said, fascinating, especially as I contemplate what that means in terms of committing myself to my health and/or surrendering my health or illness to God’s will.

This week I plan to peel back those layers as we head into Thanksgiving. But for today, just remember, as you wake up with grace and mercy, check and see if your heart's beating. If systems are a go, celebrate. Treat life like a Christmas morning kind of present. Open it up. It's when you see what's inside that you can really see what's inside you. And you can't give God the glory and claim it at the same time. Christians have to choose. So choose to walk, train, run, swim, strive, push, claw, climb, and reach with every single, grateful, thankful, humble, undeserved, unearned gift of health you got.

--Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: All you have to do is visit a children's hospital and the idea that health is earned quickly evaporates. Are you a fitness person? A runner? A lifter? When it comes to your approach to health, what is the difference between commitment and surrender?

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GEARING UP FOR #GIVINGTUESDAY

PrayFit presents "The Body" - a community of determined, generous, and passionate fitness-minded people like you giving anything they can to serve those with special needs. With #GivingTuesday fast-approaching, we pray you'll join us by giving $2/mo (just $2) and encourage others to do the same. You can start today.

Pals

The two lived on the same block as kids. Both had strict, loving parents. Daily chores included loading hay, carrying feed and helping in the fields. Their young backs were growing strong because of it. After school and homework, they'd meet up in the streets to play childhood games till dark. They were tight-knit. Best pals.

As it turned out, the two had a mutual friend that lived down the street. Their same age, he couldn't walk; paralyzed from birth. But that didn't stop him from telling a good joke or razzing the game's underdog. He was part of the crew. One of the boys.

As years passed, they grew into strong and able men with families of their own. Except, of course, for the one who was crippled. His two buddies checked on him daily though. He had a place at their table on holidays. He was the full-time ref in neighborhood competitions. They worshiped together each weekend. Indeed, after all the years, still tight.

Well, when news arrived that He was in town, the two ran toward each other's homes. In fact, they met in the middle and took turns catching their breath as they talked about their plan. Strong boys became strong men, and carrying their friend all the way across town to the One they say was able to work miracles made all those childhood chores worth it. And in fact, those chores made it possible.

The crowd around the house made it tough to get inside through traditional means. Holding the ends of the bed, the two looked at each other as if sharing the same memory of hauling hay, hoisting feed, playing games and growing up. Only one thing left for friends to do. Lift.

Most of us are familiar with the actual Biblical account of the friends who lifted their friend through the roof to be healed, but isn't it neat to wonder what got them there? What we do know is that Jesus forgave sins, healed bones, and read minds.

Part of me likes to think Jesus was pleased with the faith of those guys; a faith they exercised with their backs. And I like to imagine the three of them walking home together don't you? Who knows, maybe they played a street game for old times sake. Someone had some catching up to do. 

- Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: If you have the gift of ability and health, you never know who it's for. Go quickly.

Forever Road

Queensboro Bridge. Halfway through the 2011 New York City Marathon is both where this entry was written, and where my race actually began. Nearly two months of ultrasound and countless hours of therapy weren't enough to convalesce my troubled hamstring; which unbeknownst to me was a precursor to a more severe, undetected infirmity. And with 12 miles -- or roughly 24,000 steps left to go -- the grand, lofty notion of taking just one more was in question. So I wrote this entry.

In as much time as it took a thousand runners to pass me by, I wrapped my leg in a makeshift tourniquet using stored gauze, and as many white flags as I could find in my heart. If there's one thing this most novice of runners quickly realized on that bridge, was that the next step was as necessary as the eventual stride that would be needed to cross the finish line.

Friends, life is simply a bridge. Work, school, money, health...all mere mile markers that remind us that we're in a race. And while we don't compete against one another, I think sometimes the most daunting of life's fights occurs when we're surrounded by fellow runners. Fellow runners who are - by nature - each hamstrung by something and fighting to turn another corner down Forever Road. Let's remember that each step is worth it when we know Who awaits us in the end.

- jimmy peña

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RUNNING MAN: Nearly a decade later, I'm no runner. In fact, the day I crossed the finish line in the Big Apple was the last day I ever ran. Of course, there was no press conference salute or retirement ceremony to mark the moment, but a frail fighter had met his match; a limit that only a handful of surgeries would justify. My tip of the cap to the ability to run - something to which most people wouldn’t give a second thought - was my silent bow. And although I don’t have the gift of being able to absorb the glorious pounding of the pavement, what I still have is a miracle; a wonder; a symphony; an instantaneous explosion of grace.

That's why I'm so excited to announce the 3rd Annual PrayFit Run happening on May 2, 2020; a local and virtual 5K, 10K and 1-Mile Walk-N-Roll to benefit kids affected by disability. Certified by USA Track and Field and we’re serving pancakes at the end. How neat is that?

The cool thing is that everyone can fundraise for the cause. Whether you’re here in Los Angeles or in New York City, you can form a team and get your friends and family to sponsor you to help us. So while it may seem early to announce the event, time will fly, so please mark your calendars, start a team, donate your training. (And if you happen to be running in other events like turkey trots, 5Ks or marathons over the coming months, you can also represent PrayFit using The Body fundraising portal.)

In Case You Forgot

My friend Kevin wrote me a letter the other day. An actual letter. The kind that took a card, an envelope and stamps. But if you know Kevin, you know it took a lot more than that.

Kevin, as some of you may remember, is a former police officer who was in a terrible car accident. Sparing his life, the collision took his speech, his gait, his coordination and motor skills. Following his brain injury, he taught himself how to walk. (And now he’s teaching me.)

As angels are prone, Kevin demonstrates more thoughtfulness in a day than I show in a lifetime. On the front of the card, Hallmark said, “Just a little reminder in case you forgot.” Divine irony given that Kevin’s memory was shattered.

But Kevin, an acronym savant, assembles more encouragement and gospel goodness than anything you or I will read on social media this day. I took a couple of pics of the card for you, but he writes,

• Pray Until Something Happens

• Stop Worrying and Pray

• Fully Rely On God.

• Jesus, Others, You.

• I love you Jimmy.”

I’m not sure how long it took Kevin to write that much, but I can tell you this much, I’ll never forget it.

ON THE ANVIL
He also sent along a poem. While the original author remains anonymous, I read it as if I were listening to Kevin as he struggles to form each handwritten word. The poem is so rich and deep and meaningful and complex that I can’t put it down. But it’s not for the faint of heart. It’s not for those that believe you always get what you work for. It’s not for those that flex their faith, or pose, or pretend.

Each sentence seems to recalibrate me and shape me and break me. In a nutshell, God can do whatever He wants. It is not about me. It’s not about you. He knows what He’s doing. That’s it. Enjoy. If it helps, Kevin will narrate. In a workroom of grace, pencil in hand, writing on an anvil. Clank, clank, clank… “When”…..”God”……”wants”……

When God wants to drill a man
And thrill a man
And skill a man,
When God wants to mold a man
To play the noblest part;

When He yearns with all His heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world shall be amazed,
Watch His methods, watch His ways!

How He ruthlessly perfects
Whom He royally elects!
How He hammers him and hurts him,
And with mighty blows converts him.

Into trial shapes of clay which
Only God understands;
While his tortured heart is crying
And he lifts beseeching hands!

How He bends but never breaks
When his good He undertakes;
How He uses whom He chooses,
And which every purpose fuses him;
By every act induces him
To try His splendor out……
God knows what He’s about.

- jimmy peña

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THE BODY:
Did you happen to catch our soft launch of “The Body” last week? Over 20,000 people have watched it so far. That’s just grace. Hope you enjoy The PrayFit Story and join us on our vocation to help those impacted by special needs.

Veterans and Warriors

Today, we pause to humbly offer our gratitude to those who have served or are currently in uniform for the cause of freedom at home and abroad. The dangers you face and the sacrifices you and your families make are gestures that are not lost on us.

Many of our veterans suffer from both visible and invisible disabilities. Today isn’t full of marching bands and softball games. They hurt - physically, mentally and spiritually. Some of the things they’ve done, seen, heard and said follow them. Those memories don’t just haunt, they hunt. And often, certain thoughts find our warriors at home, at work and at play; battlefield recollections that wreak havoc at worst and disrupt normalcy at best.

Guys, we need to thank God for our veterans and ask Him to be with them today. I’m writing this entry and you’re reading it because of the grace of God and every veteran that has ever honorably worn the flag.

If you know a veteran, reach out to say thanks. If you see one, take the time to offer a word of encouragement. If you are one, then we hope that you are blessed today.

Join us in prayers of protection for those who so dutifully protect us or leave a few words of affirmation in the comments section below.

Veterans, today we honor you. Thank you for your service.

- Jimmy Peña

2nd Mountain

Our tag line, or motto if you will, used to be "Life is not about the body, but our health is a means of praise." You may remember that from the old site. It's a little clunky. Somewhat wordy. But despite its lack of rhythm and meter, it's still true. It still holds. Meaning, that any health we have (defined as anywhere between first and last heartbeat) is our chance at worship; our one shot at giving glory to His grace.

But the older I get and the longer I spend in the fitness industry, and especially as PrayFit gets closer to its second mountain, I am growing ever convinced of the complexity of physical stewardship. And perhaps as if I'm looking into a whirlpool of my own history, and of my writing, and shortcomings, and illnesses, and breakdowns and breakthroughs, and sin, and forgiveness and grace, I imagine myself reaching into the mixture of devotions and pulling out that old phrase "means of praise" out of the millions of other words and axioms we've used over the years. Placing it aside, there it is. Means of praise.

Drying it off, so to speak, I take a good look at it. Chin in my hands, I ask it, "What value do you have in my life and in the life of my readers, old and new? After all this time, what do you really mean?"

GENEROUS HEALTH
Pastor Curtis Johnson once said, "Stewardship is a pathway to generosity." Now, of course, he wasn't referring to our physical stewardship, but what a powerful statement. See it again: Stewardship is a pathway to generosity. Examining it from a purely financial sense, it's clear that the management of God's money, His gift to us, is a step to having the opportunity of being generous with our money. In other words, caring for something that's not our own is stewardship, yes, but it doesn't mean we're being generous with it. And I'm finally to the end of the beginning of this long-winded entry.

You and I have been put in charge of something that God made and gave us to take care of temporarily that's not our own, these bodies. Of course, that's not anything new or rare to see on this page.  It's not exactly the spotted owl. Because of its familiarity, we glaze over that sentence as if we've just been given the specials menu at our favorite restaurant. But I know in my own life, if the simplest form of bodily stewardship isn’t more than mindful management but in fact incomplete unless generosity is the result, I've missed it.

BRAZIL AND BACK
Last week I got home from a mission’s trip to Brazil. I accompanied the Texas branch of Joni and Friends to help distribute Bibles and wheelchairs. A life-changing trip. I plan to go back. At the tail end of the trip, we had the chance to visit Christ the Redeemer. According to Wikipedia, the Christ the Redeemer statue weighs 635 metric tons and stands 98 ft high. The arms alone stretch 92 ft. Overlooking the city of Rio de Janeiro, Christ the Redeemer is a symbol of Christianity across the world and has become a cultural icon of both Rio de Janeiro and Brazil.

Interestingly, as we approached, I noticed what many before me have noted. The statue of Jesus had blind eyes. They were almost…cold.

Mind you, we had just come from a week of seeing kids receiving their first wheelchair and parents their first Bible. We had been eyewitnesses to families being prayed for while their children were held by loving therapists and pastors. We had been looking into the face of Jesus all week. So this, as beautiful and momentous as it was, actually felt a little less like a hospital and more like an amusement park. Nothing against the 7th wonder of the world, it just didn’t feel like a miracle.

ALL OF MY LIFE
As I stood at the base of the statue, so many stories ran through my heart. Cue the piano masterpiece “All of my life” by Bill Conti from the Rocky soundtrack. Seriously, all of my love, all of my hopes, all my work and words, my sentimental foolishness, my heart aches and loss of health and renewed focus on disability, all of it rushed up with me to the top of that mountain in Brazil.

Then looking up as I caught my breath - although the eyes were blind and the stone was cold - I enjoyed the moment very much. And why not? I knew Jesus was in the church back in Curitiba. I knew He was in the heart of Becky Ellis; the leader of the entire outreach. He was in the walk of Marcelo, the mind of Will the mechanic and in the hands of Pastor Melo. And I knew for certain that He was in the faces of the kids back in the disability department at my church. I have seen him in Jordan, Brynn, Jennifer, Emma, Sage and redheaded Matthew.

Driving down the mountain, I wasn’t leaving Jesus, I was going to Him; to my life’s work and calling. Leaning into every turn, I soaked it in. I was descending toward my second mountain.

Guys, this Saturday we launch the new site and reveal our new direction. We will begin by showing a video, sort of a live watch party on Facebook. I hope you’ll be able to join us. I’ll be sure to send you an update and reminder. Please be sure to follow us on all of the social media platforms if you don’t already.

I just want to thank all of you for seeing me to this point. Some of you have been with me for 10 years. Others of you 10 minutes. But welcome to the end of the beginning. The end of mere stewardship and the start of generosity. The tour is over. PrayFit’s first mountain, and mine personally, has been conquered. The 2nd mountain - the one of meaning and purpose and vocation - well, it conquered me.

- jimmy peña

Conversations

Pastor Shawn Thornton of Calvary Community Church in Westlake Village, Ca is taking us through an incredible series called, “Conversations That Matter.” A fascinating look at what we can take away from conversations that Jesus had with His own disciples, Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman and others, and ultimately how those exchanges can guide and mold how we speak to others and of course, to God Himself.

Indeed, conversations come about for all sorts of reasons.

It's well-documented that in the bedroom of 19th Century Theologian Charles Spurgeon was a plaque and a verse, "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.” (Isaiah 48:10)

"Men will never become great in divinity until they become great in suffering.” Spurgeon once said. “There are none so tender as those who have been skinned themselves. Those who have been in the chamber of affliction know how to comfort those who are there.”

If a chamber of affliction has ever had an address, it’s in the bedroom of a modest home in the hills of Los Angeles, Ca. We often speculate what we would hear “if walls could talk,” but if the ones that surround Joni could walk, they would you take you on a journey that few would believe and even fewer could imagine.

If you’ve suffered, you’re well-aware that suffering isn’t bound to its epicenter. The ripple effect and its incremental outward expansion goes beyond the physical origin and reaches well outside the target. Amid the tough stuff of life, you’ve likely been sad, worried, you’ve questioned God or you’ve longed for a do-over. And you’ve probably wondered whether or not it will “always be like this” and if there’s hope for a normal future.

Joni Eareckson Tada is a picture of that hope. She sees her disability as divine and her suffering as safety. Though she grew up athletic and active, her greatest blessing in life hasn’t been wellness or strength or ability, but has been found in sickness, sorrow and loss. Why? Because of the arms to which they made her turn.

When her limbs no longer worked, the dirt where her face sank was an altar. She worshipped where she wept. She saw her injury as guided, directed affection. First from God then to God. When her body was buried under the burden of sorrow, Joni decided to worship. Indeed, her tender pain is - to this day - a love note that she first reads from Him and sends back to Him in the form of joy, obedience and service.

The Joni and Friends Disability Ministry is a result of the sweet, life-long exchange between sovereign Savior and suffering saint. Dedicated to spreading the Gospel and serving those impacted by disability all around the world, those that work alongside her extend the long line of friends that connect the decades; divinely and affectionally sanctioned to join her as she continues to form her response in this the most sacred of conversations.

-Jimmy Peña

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Our upcoming line is sure to help spark some good conversations between your friends, family and even strangers. Be a part of what’s to come by pre-ordering your thermal today. All proceeds go to support kids and families impacted by disability. Just click the link and pre-order now!

If...Then

In a 2015 article, writer Erin Brindley of The Village Church delivers some serious wisdom. She writes:

1. "If God fashioned man out of the dust of the ground to be a bodily being (Gen. 2:7) and declared this culmination of creation very good (Gen. 1:31), then our bodies can’t be inconsequential." 

2. "If God created us as material beings made in His image and gave us the mandate to cultivate the earth and fill it with His image (Gen. 1:26-28), then our bodies must have purpose." 

3. "If Christ came in the flesh (John 1:14) and in Him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily (Col. 2:9), then the body bears eternal significance." 

4. "If all things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, have been created by Christ and for Christ (Col. 1:16), then what we do to our bodies either supports or betrays our worship of Christ." 

Let's put a pin in that, shall we? Those who know me understand that at PrayFit we live within a tension; a tension that we walk like a tightrope when it comes to the complexity of bodily stewardship; trying never to put too much emphasis on the body that we lose sight of what's most important, but never de-emphasizing the truth that we are made in God's image. And in order for us to follow Him and tell others about Him, He gave us arms, legs, skin, eyelids, lips and receding hairlines. (Well, that last one He reserved for the really cool kids.)

Friends, I am convinced that if we're not careful, "seeing health (or illness) through the Gospel's lens" can become no more than a catchphrase.

We have to mine God's Word for the indisputable truths nestled throughout. From Genesis to John, we have irrefutable evidence of the precious origin and the eternal significance of these temporary jars of clay. 

Like I've said before, honoring God with our bodies means something different for each of us. For some, it may mean a more dedicated approach to exercise, better food choices, more rest. For others, it may mean a pumping of the brakes and renewed sense of perspective, modesty, humility and purpose.

Stewardship is never showy, but it's not lazy. Stewardship doesn't start in the gym and end in a flex, but rather it begins and ends in a heart where God is pleased.

Physical stewardship happens when our approach to the body proclaims that God's image is cherished and His will is pursued in the process.  

- Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: If...then. Feel the tension? Anybody with me on the tightrope? Love to know your thoughts.

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WE ARE THE BODY
t-shirt and thermals!

Hey guys, the next phase of PrayFit is right around the corner. Chapter 2.

Here’s a sneak peek at the logo and some of the merchandise we’re about to roll out. I would love for you to be a part of the initial run. Available for pre-order, click the image and order yours. T-shirts ship immediately and thermals ship in a few weeks. Hurry, they won’t last long. 100% of the proceeds go to support kids and families impacted by special needs.

I'm Stoppable

In Rocky V - one of the least known movies in the series of films - Rocky has a flashback where he sees himself inside the ring with his trainer, Mickey. It's a great scene; one of my all-time favorites. In the midst of his work, Rocky lowered his arms signifying he was finished, but Mickey quickly shouts, "Hey, I didn't hear no bell!" and Rocky assumes the battle. I think about that scene a lot. Used to be, I'd whisper "I didn't hear no bell" to myself while we destroyed each other in the gym, loading plate after plate for rep after rep. But over the years the scene has grown to mean much more.

We're stoppable. We have God-given abilities with God-given limits. And that's a God-given compliment. What do we do with a compliment God gives us? We accept it. And our response in the form of our highest effort is one of the ways we simply say thank you for the gift of limitation.

In his book, “The Road to Character,” David Brooks describes our current culture in a way that few dare. “As I look around, the same messages are everywhere. You are special. Trust yourself. Be true to yourself. Commencement speeches are larded with the same clichés: Follow your passion. Don’t accept limits. You are so great. This self-centeredness leads in several unfortunate directions. It leads to selfishness. It leads to pride. It leads to a capacity to ignore your imperfections and inflate your virtues; constantly seeking recognition and painfully sensitive to any snub to the status we feel we have earned for ourselves.”

As I look at the fitness industry and even the “faith & fitness” corner of it, it seems we are hell-bent on assuring one another that it’s all about being abundantly comfortable in our own skin; to the point that we dramatize and sensationalize our unfiltered posts in the anticipation of the applause for our brutal honesty and the risk of being exposed as merely human. From experience, such attempts at recognition rival the desire for the same kind of votes we covet for our most beloved pics, attractive angles and best sides. We’re glory hounds. Praise junkies. Self-trusted wannabes. Oh but we want everyone to accept the mantra that we’re unstoppable because we are “enough” and that we can do anything we set our minds toward.

“I just wish other women knew how amazing they were. Straighten out that crown, girl!” Or “I just wish other men knew how many mountains they could move if they just believed in themselves.”

Hogwash. The is the false gospel of self-trust. Trust me, we are not that awesome and that mountain ain’t gonna budge big boy.

You know, we may not emerge out of times of suffering healthy, strong or healed, but we do come out different. Changed. Some even come out with a vocation. As if the dust that has settled formed a path of purpose, with the first sign of clean air allowing for a deep inhale and a look of resolve. Picture me looking down that road as I type this sentence.

“Suffering drags you deeper into yourself,” says David Brooks. “It smashes you through a floor you thought was the bottom floor of your soul, revealing a cavity below, and then it smashes through that floor, revealing another cavity, and so on and so on. The person in pain descends to unknown ground. Suffering opens up ancient places that have been hidden. When people are thrust down into these deeper zones, thrust into lonely self-scrutiny, they are forced to confront the fact that they can’t determine what goes on there. It shatters the illusion of self-mastery. It teaches gratitude. We realize how undeserving we are.”

If I can ascend up into the the gym or studio - the shallow periphery that I know as well as any and better than most - when was the last time you and I praised and applauded God for His allowance of our limits? Forget our basements, but what about for our ceilings? Limits are both above and below.

Fact is, when we honor Him with our bodies, it is indeed worship. From squat racks to hospital beds, yoga studios to waiting rooms. That worship won't stop until He says the fight is over.

Like Rocky - whose time in the ring ended only by the bell - you and I are still in it. We're mixing it up with the best life can throw at us for our souls using both health (and our illness.) We do our best to put up our dukes to slip its jab, but it’s a fight we will eventually lose. I know it's a blow to the body, but health is a losing battle. Thankfully, gracefully, our spiritual battle was fought and won only when He said, "It Is finished." Hurry Heaven.

And if the world hears that as an admission of weakness, they're right. Only, we know it as applause. An applause that echoes off the bottom floor of our despair to the rooftops of our ability. An applause from us; the stoppable.

-Jimmy Peña

Whine or Worship

Let's begin this Wednesday with a prayer by my friend, Scotty Smith.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Cor. 4:16-18 (NIV)

     For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down (that is, when we die and leave this earthly body), we will have a house in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands. We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long to put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. 2 Cor. 5:1-2 (NLT)

Dear heavenly Father, the current annoyances and pains in my body (and the illnesses and aches of some very dear friends) give me an unavoidable opportunity either to whine or worship. And since I know where my whining usually takes me, I gladly move to the posture of worship.

First of all, thank you for giving us the important gift of lament. I’ve learned the hard way that if we’re unwilling to grieve our losses then our compassion for others will be significantly stunted. I don’t like brokenness and sickness, and limitation and pain, but if it tunes my heart to care for others, grant me grace, Father, to rejoice in suffering.

That being said, I am SO looking forward to the new body we will receive when Jesus returns, which Paul celebrates in these Scriptures. Our healing will be complete, and never again will we experience sickness and pain in any form. No more cancer or even headaches; no more joint replacements or even runny noses.

Father, thank you that Jesus not only secured the perfection of our spirits, but also the resurrection of our bodies. Even as Jesus was raised from the dead, we too will be raised. We groan now, but will be whole forever. Hallelujah! These “light and momentary troubles” are incredibly inconvenient and bothersome; but our rejoicing will be eternal.

Until that Day, Father, I will seek to take care of myself, and will trust you for healing and health. And by the power of the gospel, please help me be someone in whom the weak, weary, and broken find understanding and encouragement. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ tender and triumphant name.
 

-Scotty Smith

For Discussion: Does any part of Scotty's prayer strike a chord with you today?

White Noise

Question. Do you sleep because you get to, or because you have to? Both? Reason I ask is because I recently downloaded a white noise app to help me at night. I'm hoping it helps me sleep, but I don't want it to distract my wife. I'll come back to that.

Get To or Have To?
"I wanna run," I said to Letta while she was getting ready for work this morning. Her positive, grace-laced reply came as quickly as you can say on your mark. She said, "Yeah...you can't...but you can walk fast!"

This is where I nodded my head and forced the corners of my mouth downward in a sort of agreeable frown. "True...(nod)...true."

Some people will tell you that they train because they "get to." They see it as favor, a blessing, something to enjoy, a means to give back to God and celebrate life and limbs and ability. And that's awesome. Lord knows I've written a few entries on the subject over the years and I built a platform on any measure of health being a gift.

And yet there are others who train because they "have to." They see it as obedience, an honor and high responsibility. Much like they would manage their money, they see exercise as temporary physical stewardship. They don't love it, but they love Him, so they take care of themselves. Obedience, after all, doesn't have to be fun. For that reason, I could argue that they are the ones truly making a sacrifice of praise.

But here's the skinny. The problem is in our hearts. We sin when we get off track by feeling self-righteous for being in either camp. Fact is, if you get to train, it's only because in God's sovereignty you have to. And if you have to train, it's only by God's grace that you get to. (Try saying that five times really fast.) 

Anyway, this morning as I got back into the saddle following my trip to Romania, I decided to hit the gym downstairs to work my back. Looking down at the pitiful light weight I would soon master, I had a flashback to my days when I used to row 200 lb. dumbbells with one arm and with rhythmic regularity. Today I have a 40 lb. limit for both hands combined. 

I got to thinking. I would love to be strong again, but I make a conscious choice to stay weak. I would love to run, but I reluctantly choose to walk fast. What camp am I in? I get to train within my limits and I have to train to reach them.

- Jimmy Peña

ANSWER: It doesn't matter, but I probably have a pillow in both camps. Regardless, the outcome of my decision is a filthy rag. Like the awful, fuzzy sounds coming out my phone at night, our promotion of our purpose can often be one giant distraction. Like white noise, it's there, but we don't always need others to hear it. Aren't we glad God sees the heart? I missed you all. I’m back.

When In Romania

“Yes, to walk is a wonderful thing. I haven’t done it in decades, but I recall very well the joy of running, skipping and jumping. But there are far more important things in life than standing up and walking.” - Joni Eareckson Tada

PRAYFIT ON THE ROAD
The longest indoor wheelchair ramp on the planet supports the wheelchair of the second longest surviving quadriplegic in the world. A diving accident in 1967 left Joni Eareckson Tada, then 17, paralyzed from the neck down. She eventually founded “Joni and Friends” in 1979 to share the hope of the Gospel and give practical help to people impacted by disability worldwide. She and her friends have been changing the church and communities around the globe for the past 40 years.

Today, Loretta and I will board a plane to Romania on Joni’s behalf and with her in mind. “Wheels for the World” at Joni & Friends is an outreach that helps families around the globe with the gift of mobility. As Joni herself says, “A person with limited mobility is often excluded from life in their community simply because they have no way of moving around. A wheelchair removes isolation, lifting someone from the dirt into a seat of dignity and opportunity.” Wheels for the World provides life-changing mobility along with the hope of the Gospel to people impacted by disability worldwide.

Long story short, I have been asked to be the journalist for the Romania trip and I will also be taking over the Instagram page of Joni & Friends for the week, so please be sure to follow them and track with me for the next week. Cool? We covet your prayers for the trip. Health, travel, and for me to bring honor to God and justice to the role I’ve been asked to fulfill. Yes?

COME WITH
And finally, some of you have asked how you can help. Well, if you’d like to come alongside us, we are in need of a bit more fundraising for Letta’s portion of the trip. We need a handful of friends to speak into the trip financially, so if you’d like, you can love on us in that regard. Here’s the link to SENDING LORETTA. Loretta will be serving in a support role, assisting the mechanics and the therapists in fitting the children into their chairs. Thank you so much guys. Amazing.

I will be in touch as much as possible next week, but will most certainly be on social media keeping everyone as close to the mission as possible.

Pray for us. Much love. PrayFit to Romania.

- Jimmy Peña

Grace Looks Both Ways

Finally, the chorus. As a noun, the definition of chorus means, "A piece of music, especially one forming part of a larger work."

For my part, it’s been powerful to hum this song down the road with you. I wonder if any of you have ever listened to or read this song as closely as we did the last few days. If so, or if not, I hope it’s been enjoyable.

The lyrics are so richly connected to the prodigal son it’s enough to fill a week like this. It's enough to fill the weak like me.

Carry on my wayward son 
For there'll be peace when you are done 
Lay your weary head to rest 
Don't you cry no more.

The chorus. Our lives, health, fitness, illness, work and relationships…music that forms part of a larger work where faith is the key, love is the rhythm, and grace is the bridge. And if we're listening, Jesus our Savior and Conductor is giving us our only note: "me, me, me, me, me...Me."

T’was Grace
Former slave trader turned pastor turned hymn writer, John Newton, once wrote a line that because of it’s familiarity and commonality, many of us miss completely:

“T’was grace that taught my heart to fear
and grace my fears relieved.”

T’was grace that taught my heart to fear. Do you agree? Does it cause you to pause? At first we don’t want to accept the fact that it takes grace to fear God and that it’s a gift when we do. Until we realize that without a fear of God we won’t approach Him with the kind of trembling that brings about redemption and the eventual relief left in its path.

And there it is. That’s the tension. When you squat down in the middle of the dusty lane and reach for loose sediment, it’s the decision you roll between your fingers and thumb. And when you’re left with just one stone, the painful and hopeful truth is as convicting as it is comforting. The same grace that convicts us is the grace that pardons us. Along this road, grace looks both ways.

Alistair Begg recently taught, “When we fear God, we run to him, not from him. The fear of God could deliver us from all our other fears.”

Wow. Read that last part again. Then consider that while our prodigal feared what his dad would do to him or how he would be received, the boy knew what he had to do. Fearing God and the actions it requires means all other fears will have to stand down. It means character is built in the little steps, the hard swallows and tough words. Fearing God and the actions it requires means we love Him.

Well, as the song nears its final note, I’m sentimental. The road to character is full of rocks of sin, guilt, fear, grace and salvation.

I’ll let Alistair close out the week with a prayer for prodigals and wayward sons and daughters like me and you. If you’re still with me, say “carry on” in the comment section.

Lord Jesus Christ, I am so foolish. Give me your wisdom to see and follow your truth. Lord Jesus Christ, I am full of guilt and have no peace. But you have died to bring forgiveness and the assurance of pardon. I trust you to be my Savior, and by your grace, I turn away from sin. Lord Jesus Christ, I am weak. Give me your power, and rule in my heart and over my whole life, forever and ever. Amen.

- Jimmy Peña

When You Are Done

Sheryl,
Erin,
Debbie,
Tracy,
Michelle,
Adrienne,
Kim,
Colleen and a concerned parent.
Rosetta, Kelly, Julie, Tara. Hanna, Gina, Pam, Lise….

These are just a few of the names that mentioned prayer requests in Monday’s Wayward Son entry. There are many more. If you would, please go back and read with us and help us pray.

“When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare and here I am starving to death!”

— Luke 15:17

If you have my latest book, you know where I'm going, because you know the story. A silhouette appears on the horizon. Too far away to distinguish, but a father who's been waiting for his son to come home can't help but wonder.

Squinting, he raises his hand over his eyes to block the sun's glare. As the distant figure gets closer, the father begins to walk in that direction; slowly at first, trying to match the pace of his visitor. Until he realizes this is...this is…this is no visitor. It's him. It's his boy. His long, lost son was home. And with compassion and forgiveness, he ran to him, embraced him, kissed him, clothed him and fed him. Grace happened.

You know the story. The prodigal son is nothing new to you. The son takes his inheritance and high-tails it his way to the highway. You know the story. And in one way or another maybe you've lived it. Perhaps you're living it now. Maybe not with an inheritance, but perhaps with your inherited health, a job, with a relationship or with the one you want. Long hours, long days, obligations, deadlines, family matters, friends that matter, must-see TV and your must-read social media find you on foreign soil; a place you were never designed to be. Maybe it's time to go home.

DAD RULES
We had a rule growing up. If my brother and I got in trouble for doing something wrong, we weren't allowed to keep pouting about it. No sir. Once it was done - and my brother got what he deserved - it was over. Finished. Like it never happened. Well okay, we suffered consequences, yes, but it wasn't held over our heads. In fact, if I was pouting about it later on, you guessed it, I got in trouble for pouting. You know what that taught me? Trust. I trusted my parents. I knew what to expect.
Periodically reprimanded, constantly loved.

Our anchor song this week is “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas. Take a listen. And if you’re still with me, check out the lyrics as it relates to our verse and my thoughts:

”Once I rose above the noise and confusion,
Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion,
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high.
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man,
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man,
Masquerading as a man with a reason,
My charade is the event of the season,
And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know.
On a stormy sea of moving emotion,
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean,
I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say…
Carry On My Wayward Son.”

The Bridge
Although he came back with memories of deeds as stinky as his pig-slopped clothes, the prodigal in our verse couldn't stray beyond his father's love. Before he knew it, a robe replaced rags, a ring dressed his hand and a feast filled his belly. And while you and I may not have mud on our shoes, there's not a person reading this sentence who doesn't need that kind of grace from a grace-giving God.

You’ll forgive the long entry, but I’m reading a book by David Brooks called “The Road to Character.” I think in some ways that’s the road the prodigal was on as he made his way back home, agree?

Brooks says, “Occasionally you come across certain people who seem to posses an impressive inner cohesion. They are not leading scattershot lives. They don’t crumble in adversity. They are not blown off course by storms. They are inclined to be useful but don’t need to prove anything to the world; humility, restraint, respect and a soft self-discipline. They radiate a moral joy and perform acts of service with the same modest everyday spirit they would display if they were just getting the groceries. They’re not thinking about their impressive work. They’re not thinking about themselves at all. They are just delighted by the flawed people around them.”

Part of me thinks that describes the wayward son after his road to character. Something tells me he soaked things up when he got home. Something tells me that once he accepted grace, he had soft eyes, a tender heart, a helping hand, and a forgiving spirit. Something tells me he was different. Whether or not he ever looked back down the path that brought him back home, I’m not sure. I suppose we’ll have to wait for the chorus.

— Jimmy Peña

My Wayward Son

Our theme today comes from an unlikely song; Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas. Do you know it? Look up the word 'wayward' in the dictionary and synonyms like stubborn, headstrong, disobedient, impossible, willful and wild make the list. Any wayward sons or daughters reading this today? Well, a wayward son is writing it. I tell you, few lyrics of any song paint as good a picture of grace as this one.

Anyway, I went to the water this weekend. Spent time near the shore, letting the waves bring me thoughts and take some away. I was there for the 5th annual Beach Day for the special needs department at Calvary Community Church in Westlake Village, Ca. Of course, I had my usual spot. Each year, I’m the guy that stands way down at the end of the beach to make sure that nobody wanders off too far; leave it to the least qualified.

But it is something to behold. With rhythmic regularity, the waves swell, lift, crash and reach my feet as I watch the kids in water-resilient wheelchairs dare the surf; children with both visible and invisible disabilities experiencing what is likely a rarity while their parents soak up the sun, catch a nap, read a book. It’s quiet most of the time in my corner, but that’s often where wayward sons do their best work.

Maybe you can relate. Perhaps notes of a personal failure, a failed health, or heartbreak, bad breaks and mistakes make for the lyrics of your most current verse. Well, over the next few days I'm going to try to navigate us through the words of this classic rock song. And hopefully, as I sing to myself - with the water and sand running between my toes - something you read this week will help your sweet spirit and strong soul carry on.

"Carry on my wayward son... 
There'll be peace when you are done...
Lay your weary head to rest...
Don't you cry no more."

- Jimmy Peña

Prayer Requests:
As we begin a new week, does anyone have any prayer requests they’d like to share with me? If you’d rather keep it private, simply say, “Unspoken,” and I promise to lift you up today as you lay your weary head to rest. And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll do the same.

Deep Trials and Deep Grace

“Deep trials bring the deep grace of God.”

— Joni Eareckson Tada

It’s been said that it takes 21 days to create a habit.
Twenty-one days to eat better,
to drink more water,
to read the Bible.
to pray.

Just 21 days.

But for Joni Eareckson Tada, 21 days came and went with the kind of casual fleeting you’d find in a summer vacation or a Christmas break. Left bobbing in the wake of her own making, a diving accident 52 years ago created more than a routine, but rather a cascading grace that - to this day - connects millions of people.

Whether it’s through her retreats for families impacted by special needs, to her curriculum for churches in need of content, Joni has made a habit out of helping people find diamonds in their disability and God’s sovereignty in suffering.

Truth be told and forever bonded, the recipients of the gift of mobility may never meet Joni herself. They may never hear her high-pitched, joy-filled voice. They will likely never see her face-to-face, share a meal or join her in song. But on their respective dusty roads of obscurity, amid languages as diverse as the cultures they represent, they look down and push the wheels of their chairs and somehow they touch her and she feels it.

She says, “In John chapter five, the Lord was at the Pool of Bethesda, and He stopped by a man over a straw mat who had been paralyzed for thirty-eight years, and it says, “When Jesus learned he had been in this condition for a long time.” Now, when I read those words, “a long time,” tears fill my eyes, because if Jesus thinks 38 years of paralysis is a long time, what does He think of fifty-two? I think Jesus probably says it’s a long time, and so do I. Seems that deep trials bring the deep grace of God.”

Feel free to read that paragraph again, but it’s a divine irony. I moved to Los Angeles nearly two decades ago as the most published fitness expert in the nation to work for a man who was the best at building and shaping muscle. Now I serve at the pleasure of a woman who can’t move a one.

Alistair Begg says, “Sow a thought, reap an action. Sow an action, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny.”

That’s all I want to do. I want to reap. In however many days I have remaining, I want to make a habit out of helping.

- Jimmy Peña

My Recent Podcasts with Joni and Friends:
In case you missed either of these, I was blessed to join the podcast at Joni and Friends to talk about chronic pain , insomnia and the crisis of identity. If you suffer, you may be blessed. Or if you have someone in your life that may be in need of encouragement, please pass them along.

Chronic Pain & Insomnia
Identity After Loss of It

Unashamed

“The Word of God is like a lion. You don’t have to defend a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”

— Spurgeon

"I'm a part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power. I've stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure.

I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tame visions, worldly-talking, cheap-giving, and dwarf goals. I no longer need pre-eminence, position, promotion, applause, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience. I am uplifted by prayer and labour in power.

My pace is set. My gait is fast. My goal is Heaven. My road is narrow. My way is rough. My companions are few. My God reliable. My mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of my adversaries, negotiate at the table of my enemy, or ponder at the pool of popularity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I've stayed up, stored up, prayed up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus Christ."

- Worth Dying For, Infiltrate

For Discussion: I was feeling this poem today, because I’m a little fired-up this week. LIKE this post if you are too, and an "amen" in the comment section would be a nice battle cry. We cleared a hurdle this weekend in the relaunch and site upgrade. Time in the edit bay is a glorious unfolding. Thanks for sticking with me, guys.