Blood, Sweat and Tears

Yesterday I did spin class, and as I huffed and puffed away, my sweat started dripping onto the bike, one big drop after another. Some sweat also fell on the floor in front of the bike.photo (21)

The first time I did the Rwenzori Boot Camp, I watched my sweat drip onto the pavement and create dark blotches as I tried my best to do press ups.

Every time I do Cheza, I watch my sweat splatter on the floor in front of me.

I used to feel very uncomfortable with my sweat and I would constantly wipe it off my brow during exercise, until the Cheza instructor advised me to learn to get used to my sweat, he told me to let it be, to let it run down my face. He told me to leave it alone.

I am not yet there, but I have learnt to appreciate my sweat. I have learnt to appreciate that sweat means I am exerting effort. Sweat means my body is functioning well. Each sweat session brings me closer to my goal, and so I embrace my sweat.

I once read somewhere that sweat is a sign of my fat crying. I read it and smiled. I smile as with each workout session I cause my fat to cry.

My thoughts turned to another whose sweat was written about – Jesus Christ. On the Mount of Olives, while contemplating his ‘cup of suffering’ – the betrayal of man and the crucifixion, Luke 22:44 says “And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly and his sweat was like drops of blood.” As his sweat turned into blood, you and I were on his mind, He loved us enough to die for us.

Next time you sweat as you exert yourself for your goal, embrace your sweat. And remember Jesus, whose sweat turned into blood, because he loved you more than life itself. He holds you as you sweat. He knows sweat. He understands sweat. He understands you.

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