Advent

We know the story, but we love it. Two thousand years ago, God made an unexpected trip. Because we were unable to get to Him, He came to us. God left Heaven's hall for Bethlehem's stall. He then climbed out of his crib and onto the cross for your sins and mine. Imagine, God with us. Say that out loud and emphasize a few words with me. 

God with us.
God with us.
God with us.

Amazing, isn't it? The distance He traveled for you and me. I love Christmas time. The traditions, old and new. But something about Christmas will never change, and that's the story of our Savior. 

So Jesus, we know the story, but tell us again.

Show us the faith in Joseph's eyes.
Reveal the awe on a shepherd's face.
Convey the courage of Mary.

We know the story, but take us back. Remind us that your birth began a rescue mission. We know the story, but please Jesus, we love it. Be born again.

 --Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: Now and again over the next few weeks, we'll take a look at Christmas and some of the incredible themes we can apply to our health and our suffering.

Only Jesus

“Get undressed and put this robe on. Leave it open in the back. The doctor will be in shortly.”

I know how it works, I snarl to myself. This nurse doesn’t know me. I think she’s new. Or, at least, she wasn’t here the last time I paid a visit or for any of my many visits. But she’s just doing her valuable job. With a closed-mouth half smile, I nod in respect of her instructions. But I know how it works. I know this room. Like a freshman coming home for his first break from college, everything is exactly the way I left it. Just replace a few vintage sports posters with doctorates and diplomas, and maybe a New York Yankees comforter instead of disposable bed paper, and this place is like the back of my hand.

The window is completely frosted. The indistinguishable cars in the parking lot come and go with rhythmic regularity. In the magazine rack, Good Housekeeping has Oprah promising weight loss and in a magazine bearing her own name, she’s listing her favorite recipes and must-see television. I opt for the Sports Illustrated tucked tightly behind at least six years’ worth of National Geographic. On most days, I’d go straight to “Laughter, The Best Medicine” from any of the dozen Reader’s Digests, but not today. Not here. The Sports Illustrated will have to do. The pages are brittle from humidity and time – as if the magazine had gone from a steam room to a dry sauna and preserved for a decade under a heat lamp. Heat and time. (Say that in your best Morgan Freeman.)

Anyway, either for the person who will come after me or for the many who have come before me, I seem to be respectfully turning the delicate pages as to not tear a one. Meanwhile the shadows under the doorway go back and forth. At any minute the door will open. I know how it works. I know this room.

It seems the same layer of dust from the memory of this doctor’s office lays atop my keyboard. I hope you don’t mind if I blow it off, crack my knuckles and take it for a spin before the doctor gets here. Over these few months, I didn’t see any roadblocks nor did I hear of any search parties out to find me, so I suppose the world is still on its axis. Although, I did see a couple of email flares of wonder go up and I appreciate all three of you for those.  But for a number of reasons – spiritual, physical and mental – I needed a few months off from writing.

WHERE IN THE WORLD?
After the PrayFit 5K a few months ago – about the same time I went into the cave I’m peeking out of today – we transitioned PrayFit out of our office at the church. We will be dedicating a portion of our proceeds to the special needs ministry from the next race, but we just won’t be running PrayFit from inside the church facility.

But during my hiatus, I put down my pen and paper. I say that as if I’ve stalled the progress of the 5th gospel; as if my words are inspired; as if each paragraph left blank will leave a gaping black hole somewhere in the universe. But the crickets I heard as I paused PrayFit was a welcome and sobering serenade.

So the skinny is, I’ve been seeking His heart, working out mine, reading new books and re-reading old ones, renewing my mind, recalibrating and rededicating my life, reminding myself that Jesus’ rightful place is on the throne of my heart. I’ve asked PrayFit in clear and present terms to do more than scoot over, but to bow out, to step down, to hush up. Tragic how ministry can become more important than its Majesty.

PrayFit has been dethroned.

IN THE MEANTIME
In the meantime, I’ve been consulting. Most of you may not know that many moons ago, long before the magazines and books, the ministry and charity work, I was an executive in fitness and spa operations. Seems that hat still fits. On one hand, I’ve enjoyed putting on my suit, pouring myself into the hearts and minds of individuals to create excellence, to anticipate needs, to exceed expectations, to “wow” people. But while I serve the discerning and blessed guest, my mind is constantly on the marginalized, the poor, the homeless. While I roll out the red carpet for those with unique funds, my heart still pounds for those with special needs.

By grace, I find myself talking to the Lord more often, in more ways, in deeper ways, more meaningful, raw and imperfect ways. Wait, did I mention that this gig has me away from home? Yeah, I talk to God more often than ever because I don’t get much face-to-face with my wife. Not that this will surprise you, but I’m a wimp on my own. If I’m not careful, I’ll droop my shoulders and sulk. I'll sing the blues. Where's a harmonica when I need one? I’m the most excellent host of my own pity party.

But this time of travel has allowed me to cherish my wife. In more painful ways than how PrayFit exited the throne, Loretta willingly removed herself from top spot. She knows she’s not my Savior, but in my weakness and pride I put that kind of pressure on her. So, being on the road has done wonders for my ego. It's killing it.

SENTIMENTAL ME
But I have to confess, I’ve missed writing. I’ve missed this arena. I’ve missed the call on my life to call us to humble, Biblical bodily stewardship. I’ve just missed you. Sentimental me is still exactly that. (And maybe a touch more these days.) But I will tell you what I haven’t missed. I haven’t missed social media, nor the unspoken, self-imposed pressure to be witty, clever, liked, or even “influential.” Saying that puts such a strange taste in my mouth. I don't need to be witty, I need to be willing. No need for likes, but I'm called to live and love. And who am I to be influential? The prodigal in pig slop doesn't preach, he pleads. He doesn't describe the mud, he kicks up dirt and goes home. 

I think the doctor is about to come in, but in my nightly go-to book (Every Season Prayers), Scotty Smith writes, “Dear Heavenly Father, by your grace, Paul was so over himself. These verses (1 Cor. 2:1-4 NLT) are indicting because they expose the performer and perfectionist in me. I still get sucked into trying to gain and maintain people’s approval by what I do.” Amen to that. And no more of that, please Jesus. I think that's why this road I'm on, which includes the exam room I'm in, is exactly where I need to be.

In my new favorite song, “Only Jesus” by Casting Crowns, they sing, “I don’t want to leave a legacy. I don’t care if they remember me. Only Jesus.” And that’s where I’m settling my mind these days.

Wouldn't you know it? I think I hear a cricket in this room.

- Jimmy Peña

to be continued...

Love Me Tender

“There are none so tender
as those who have been skinned themselves.”

— C.H. SPURGEON

The genius use of the word tender in the quote above isn't lost on me; showing compassion because you're sensitive to the pain. And there in lies the meaning of our week.

It's well-documented that in his bedroom Charles Spurgeon had a plaque on the wall with Isaiah 48:10 on it that read: "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." He once wrote, "Men will never become great in divinity until they become great in suffering. 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. Do not believe that any man will become a physician unless he walks the hospital; and no one will become a comforter unless he lies in it, and has to suffer himself.” (Christian George, The Spurgeon Center.)

Cancer survivor and medical director, Dr. Eric D. Manheimer, of the Bellevue Hospital Center, said in the New York Times, "No amount of doctoring can prepare you for being a patient. If anything, it’s that recognition of vulnerability as well as expertise that makes me a better doctor today." Something tells me Dr. Manheimer would agree with Spurgeon.

So here we are. The end of a week where we looked at sickness and suffering through the eyes of a man that Carl Henry called “one of Christianity’s immortals.” I take a deep breath and shake my head slightly at the irony of that as I type, because when it came to embracing his mortality, few had a better grasp. After all, it was his illness, not his fitness, that assured him of God's grip on him and God's love for him.

"I, the preacher of this hour, beg to bear my witness that the worst days I have ever had have turned out to be my best. When God has seemed most cruel to me, he has been most kind. If there is anything in this world for which I would bless him more than for anything else, it is for pain and affliction. I am sure that in these things the richest, tenderest love has been manifested to me. Love letters from heaven are often sent in black-edged envelopes." 

Wow. Right? Spurgeon saw his disability as divine, his gout as godly and his suffering as safety. His greatest blessing wasn't wellness or strength or grit or ability or victory, but it was sickness, sorrow and loss. Why? Because of the arms to which they made him run. The dirt where his face sank was an altar. He worshipped where he wept. He saw it as guided, directed affection. First to him and then from him.

His tender pain was a love note that he would read and send back.

Now, I don't mean to put words into his mouth, but this old song comes to mind. As a modern-day psalm to his God, I think for Spurgeon it would be just about perfect...

Love me tender,
love me long,
take me to Your heart.
For it's there that I belong,
and we'll never part.

- Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: May that be the same for us. Guys, we have so many things going on in this entry, and this week, that it's impossible to summarize. If you missed "The Black Velvet" or "Resignation," I hope you find a moment. And if you're suffering, I'll stay and sing with you. I know it by heart.

Resignation

Weirdest thing just happened. I sat down in my corner where I love to write to all of you and I turned on my music to an old album called, "The Story." Filled with amazing songs that walk us through the entire Bible, The Story has a song about the Old Testament's suffering Job; exactly who I wanted to think about tonight and for this series. But I'll come back to that.

Spurgeon, as we learned on Monday, had his share of deep, painful physical needs. So painful in fact that in 1886 he said, “When I am suffering very greatly from gout, if anybody walks heavily and noisily across the room, it gives me pain." In his autobiography he wrote, “I thought a cobra had bitten me and filled my veins with poison. I think it would have been less painful to have been burned alive at the stake than to have passed through those horrors and depressions of spirit.” (The Spurgeon Center)

It's no wonder Spurgeon was able to connect with his audience. He understood. It's no wonder he said, "The greatest earthly blessing that God can give to any of us is health, with the exception of sickness." More than ever, I get it. If a once-able weightlifter can be so bold to say, only someone who has suffered thinks to check himself at the door of pride, remove his shoes, and while he may have plenty of head room, knows to stoop.

I remember lying in my bath tub. A year removed from my neck replacement surgery and two away from my back reconstruction, I was dealing with something far more severe. Most of you know I had a colon infirmity where a spasm prevented me from being able to function normally, and the 2-year, daily war with pain was nearly unbearable. For months leading up to that risky surgery - in my bathtub with water full of blood and waste - I'd cry, I'd worry, I'd get angry, I'd apologize to my body, I'd question. Until one day, I resigned. Those that have my latest book recall my journal entry:

"I never predicted such weeks like this. If I ever get up...if I ever hope and rise and stand...if I ever smile, truly smile and speak and write and encourage, make no mistake, it won't be because I kept fighting. It won't be because of my inner man, my deep faith or some gut-summoned passion of belief. No, I have none of that. If I ever get better, it will only be by the mercy and unbelievable, inconceivable grace of my dear God."

Spurgeon: "O dear friend, when thy grief presses thee to the very dust, worship there! If that spot has come to be thy Gethsemane, then present there thy ‘strong crying and tears’ unto thy God. Turn the vessel upside down, and let every drop run out; but let it be before the Lord. When you are bowed down beneath a heavy burden of sorrow, then take to worshipping...” (Job’s Resignation)

Notice the sermon title? Job's resignation. If you ever get a chance, google it and read it. Watch what Spurgeon does to describe a suffering Job. And as you do, realize that Spurgeon himself, perhaps the moment he delivered the message was in much agony himself.

You'll forgive the long entry today, but I often stand above that tub and look down. That tub, and the years, and the loss of function, the loss of weight and ability are the reasons I stoop when I enter your lives each day. Today the tub is quiet, it's kept and clean, but it's where I resigned. It will always be the "dust where I worshipped."

Well, anyway, let's bring this to a close. I think I'll end with that song about Job from The Story. The fact that I stumbled upon Spurgeon's sermon about Job's resignation the very minute this song began, well, it was just too good of a moment for me to ignore. Perhaps because I'll never forget it.

If one more person takes my hand and tries to say they understand.
Tells me there's a bigger plan that I'm not meant to see.
If one more person dare suggest that I held something unconfessed
and tries to make the dots connect from righteousness to easy street.
Who else will see my suffering as one more opportunity to educate and help me see all my flawed theology?
If one more well-intentioned friend tries to tie-up my loose ends;
hoping to - with rug and broom - sweep awkward moments from the room...

But who am I to make demands of the God of Abraham?
And God, who are You that You would choose to answer me with mercy new? 
How many more will wander passed to find me here among the ash.
Will you hold me? Will You stay so I can raise this broken praise to You?

But You were the one who filled my cup.
And You were the one who let it spill.
So blessed be Your Holy Name if you never fill it up again.
If this is where my story ends, just give me one more breath to say, "Hallelujah."  

- Jimmy Peña

The Black Velvet

Standing outside church this "Serve Day Weekend," I happened to glance to my left to see a lady with her seeing eye dog walking toward the building. A rather large outdoor entryway, there's plenty of room to meet friends, grab a coffee, catch up and, as it turns out, to get a bit turned around.

Well, for whatever reason, I happened to look to my left and saw this Labrador retriever leading a red-headed blind believer toward the main entrance. But they were a bit off course. As they passed, I wondered if perhaps they were headed toward a small group of people gathered outside the building, but no. They walked right on by them. And then, having traveled a bit too far, they stopped. I knew something was wrong.

Walking up behind them, I asked if they were ok. She said, "We can't seem to find the door." She humorously blamed her sweet dog, who by the way looked a lot like Josey. I introduced myself, offered my assistance and helped them to the door. She said thanks. I nodded and winked at the sweet pup. He looked at me as if to let me know that he could take it from there.

(To think, I thought I was the one helping them...)

Anyway, if you've arrived at our tiny corner of the internet, we've taken a few days off since our PrayFit 5K event benefitting kids with special needs, but I'm so glad you're here. If you happen to be new, give me a shout in the comments section. Introduce yourself. You'll quickly find that PrayFit is a place where we love to forget our "self."

So, where was I? Oh, yes. The Black Velvet. Well, reading Spurgeon last week, I happened upon a wonderful quote of his. He said, "Our infirmities become the black velvet on which the diamond of God’s love glitters all the more brightly." Pause it. Close your eyes. Sit there for a second. The need for context is blinding, I would imagine.

Well, Spurgeon suffered from a myriad of mental and physical hardships; kidney inflammation, gout and depression just to name a few of his struggles. "You must go through the fire if you would have sympathy with others who tread the glowing coals," he later wrote. (Feel free to read that sentence again for its amazing imagery.) Meaning simply that if you've made it to the end of any distance of difficulty, you know what others are going through as they suffer in step, and your heart hurts along their way.

This week, we'll take a look at a few of Spurgeon's thoughts on the subject of illness and health and how the two paths convene and diverge along the road to Calvary. But to a "faith & fitness" industry - filled with its meadow maidens striking a pose under the guise of faith while verse-splattered tank tops with their easily-devised metaphors fill your social media feed - Spurgeon has plenty to teach us. Some of you reading this sentence could likely add to its content, I'm sure, because your feet still throb from the coals of suffering.

And for those wondering if Spurgeon honored God with his ailing body (never mind the millions and millions of current readers) he baptized almost 15,000 members, maintained a weekly attendance of 6,000 people, and spawned 66 para-church ministries, including two orphanages and a theological college. By 1892, Spurgeon had published more words in the English language than any other Christian in history. Without the aid of television, radio, or the Internet, Spurgeon proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ to an estimated 10 million people in his lifetime (The Spurgeon Center).

So, as chief curtain holder at PrayFit, allow me to pull back the curtain on this week's theme; a theme that doesn't forget the forgotten canvas; that ignored territory that was trod most frequently by Jesus Himself on His road to Calvary. The fit and fiddle mock it. The strong and independent vilify it. But the blind, the lame, the beggars, the sick, the suffering and the souls with their soles upon the coals, they kiss it. Because according to Spurgeon, those whose "grief presses them down to the very dust to worship” it's home. 

Pulling Curtain:
"Health is set before us as if it were the great thing to be desired above all other things. It is so? I would venture to say that the greatest blessing that God can give to any of us is health, with the exception of sickness. Sickness has frequently been of more use to the saints of God than health has. If some men, that I know of, could only be favored with a month of rheumatism, it would, by God’s grace, mellow them marvelously.”

Imagine. To be favored with illness. What would that do to our industry? Well, for this little corner of it, may the curtain we pull back this week be a source of perspective; a reservoir of comfort; a reminder that faith doesn't mean fitness. (It's almost absurd to clarify it, I know.) But may the curtain we pull back be the black velvet where God's love glitters. After all, like me, someone you know needs help finding the the door.

- Jimmy Peña

Opening Day

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." --Romans 8:1

Yep, I'm too predictable, aren't I? As I do each year, I'm celebrating the beginning of the Major League Baseball season. Many of you know we're thrilled that the Boys of Summer have taken the field. In fact, I'm not kidding when I say I've been whistling "Take me out to the ballgame" a lot lately. (And maybe now so are you.)

But as I watch my beloved Yankees take the field in their home opener today, it occurs to me that Opening Day can teach us a lot about grace. Reason being, right before player step into the batter's box, each person's average on the screen will be .000 -- a clean slate. Scotty Smith says, "Jesus didn't just die to give us a clean slate, but to give us His righteousness." Take a swing at that for a second.

Each morning you and I step up to the plate ready to swing away at whatever the day throws at us. Thankfully, no matter how many strikeouts we had yesterday, God's mercy is new with each plate appearance. And with the Resurrection celebration yesterday, it feels so appropriate, no? Jesus conquered death so we can have life; an abundant life with no record of wrongs. When Jesus rose from the grave, He gave us every reason we need to look alive. 

You know, I'm now whistling a medley. "Take me out to the ballgame"...because I know "He Lives".

--Jimmy Peña

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There's a new race In town: We are less than two weeks away from the PrayFit 5K & 1-Mile Walk-N-Roll. Are you registered? If you're not in Los Angeles, you have a couple more days to reserve your VIRTUAL spot. You can walk, jog or run with us from your own treadmill or neighborhood. I'll send you an official race bib you can hang on your wall, a t-shirt, and an official medal. Of course, 100% of the proceeds are going to kids and families affected by special needs

What Sorry Company He Kept

Charles Spurgeon, in a sermon about the thief on the cross, said, "Carefully note that the crucified thief was our Lord's last companion on earth. What sorry company our Lord selected when he was here! He did not consort with the religious Pharisees or the philosophic Sadducees, but he was known as "the friend of publicans and sinners." How I rejoice at this! It gives me assurance that he will not refuse to associate with me. When the Lord Jesus made a friend of me, he certainly did not make a choice which brought him credit."

We recently reminded ourselves that the passion and elation we have inside us was given to us by God for God. I'm reminded about the countless Biblical examples of people who had physical reactions to Jesus, either to be near Him or because they had just been with Him. We've said it before, but He just moves us! But there was one person who didn't move a muscle, and I think about him every year...

The criminal had just been given Heaven. Every sin of his wasted years had been forgiven, his name had just been written in the Lamb's book of life, and soon the angels would be teaching him to sing. And yet, despite this gift of grace and mercy, He didn't run to embrace Him. He didn't leap for joy, lift his hands in praise or kneel in worship. Why? Well, he couldn't move. See, the nails were too deep, the pain was too great. If he could've climbed down that cross, he probably would've demonstrated physically what his heart had experienced spiritually.

Given to us by God for God. May we marvel at how low Jesus went to meet us; that he rode on a donkey and spent his last minute with sinners. May we make much of any chance we get to do what Christ's last companion couldn't.

-Jimmy Peña

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DISCUSSION - Let's please allow Spurgeon to lead us in our final thought..."Do you think he gained any honor when he made a friend of you? Has he ever gained anything by us? No, my brethren; if Jesus had not stooped very low, he would not have come to me; and if he did not seek the most unworthy, he might not have come to you. Yes, after all, our Lord did make a good choice when he saved you and me; for in us he has found abundant room for his mercy and grace."

What Will We Do With Easter?

Pastor Paul Tripp once asked, "What will you do with Easter?" He related it to issues of life, money, relationships, and troubles.

What a powerful question for us in the fitness industry. What will we do with Easter when the storms of life arise? What will we do with Easter on Monday when we get to the gym, or the studio, or the track?

What will we do when we're tempted to gloat, to boast, to pat ourselves on the back? What will we do?

What will we do when we get sick? Like, really sick. What will we do when our dreams of gains, of glorious pain, of wondrous work, when the welcome pursuit of fitness is denied us? What will we do?

What will we do when the status call on social media stokes our fear of missing out? What will we do with Easter?

What will we do when our loss of muscle, or our gain of bodyfat, our diminishing bone mass, elevated resting heart rate, our unrelenting atrophy, our irreversible disease progression, or our unmistakeable loss of strength testifies to the truth that we are made of dust, not iron. What will we do with Easter?

When we peer into the empty tomb of Easter this weekend, that's the lens through which everything else in life can be seen, even our bodies. And as fitness people, as hard-chargers, as iron-pushers, as mile runners, record-breakers, goal makers, and as broken-down, out-of-the-game lifters like me, the empty tomb is full of grace, and joy, and relief. The thought of His victory eternally exceeds our loss or gains in this vapor-quick life.

What will we do with Easter?

- Jimmy Peña

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Click below to reserve your t-shirt and medal and let's walk and run coast-to-coast for those who can't.

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The Heart I Got

In our recent discipleship class at church, I learned about a man named Bill Wohl. Bill had a new heart. Days after receiving it, he opened a letter from Michael Brady's family. Michael Brady gave Bill his heart after Michael died doing what he loved. His heart was removed and transplanted into the heart of another man, this Bill Wohl. According to the story, when Bill opened the letter from the Brady family, he couldn't believe what he read. But a little about Bill will help lay the reasons why. Bill was a type A, overweight, money-obsessed businessman pursuing a jet-setter lifestyle.

That was Bill with his old heart.

Michael's family wrote Bill and included pictures of Michael and some background information. Michael was a 36-year old, good-looking, super-fit stuntman who died on the job. Bill thought, "Are you kidding me? That's whose heart I got?" Today Bill works part-time, spending most of his new-found energy winning speed and performance medals in swimming, cycling and track.

This is Bill with his new heart.

As we end the week, let's remember that when we accepted Jesus, He gave us a new heart; His. Our response should mirror Bill's. "Are you kidding me? That's whose heart I got?" And then we try and apply it to every aspect of life, including bodily stewardship.

You know, I may not have the tools anymore, but the heart, I got. And as it turns out, it's all I need. Friends, we woke up today with fresh mercy and grace. Grace, of course, is God giving us what we don't deserve and mercy is us not getting what we do. That's why we strive. That's why we set health goals to the glory of God. Try finding more compelling reasons to work at staying healthy than fresh mercy and grace. I assure you, you can't.

The next time someone asks you why you're trying lose weight or why you're making better food choices, just think of Michael and Bill and what they shared. Just tell them you got a new heart.

- jimmy peña

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ONE MONTH AWAY!

We are a few short weeks away from the PrayFit 5K & 1-Mile Walk-N-Roll. Are you registered? If you're not in Los Angeles, please hurry to reserve your VIRTUAL spot. You can walk, jog or run with us from your own treadmill or neighborhood. I'll send you an official race bib you can hang on your wall, a t-shirt, and an official medal. Of course, 100% of the proceeds are going to kids and families affected by special needs. In most cases, you're walking and running for those that can't. And based on today's entry, you know what that takes. 

High Regard

 I recently posted on social media something Max Lucado said in his podcast. You'll forgive the long quote, but it's worth the read. He said, "God has a high regard for your body. Paul calls our body the “temple” of God. Be careful how you feed it, use it, and maintain it. You wouldn’t want anyone trashing your home; God doesn’t want anyone trashing His. After all, it is His, isn’t it?

A little jogging and dieting to the glory of God wouldn’t hurt most of us.

Your body, in some form, will last forever. God will glorify your body. He will remove all weakness and disease. Isn’t that great news? Your pain will not last forever. Is your heart weak? It will be strong in heaven. Has cancer corrupted your system? There is no cancer in heaven. For a season, your soul will be in heaven while your body is in the grave. But the seed buried in the earth will blossom in heaven. And you will be just like Jesus."

(Hurry, Heaven.)

But notice what He said. God will glorify our bodies. That's not our job. Our job is to follow Jesus and encourage others to do the same, and "for the glory of God" we look after ourselves in the process. To think, God cares more about our bodies than we do. He made them, He knows we need them and someday He'll heal them. A little jogging and dieting sounds about right, Max.

- Jimmy Peña

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The PrayFit Podcast
For those that enjoy podcasts, I hope you'll subscribe to mine. This first podcast allowed me to describe the tension and complexity of bodily stewardship. And for those that have never heard the story of how PrayFit began, you may enjoy that section. If you happen to listen and enjoy it, by all means rate it for us and give me feedback. I'd appreciate it so much.

Madness

In his book, "The Explicit Gospel," Matt Chandler writes, "March madness is the greatest sporting event. I say that because it's also the last athletic venue in which David can still beat Goliath. All over the country, fans are nervous. They're nervous in their guts, they want their team to win so badly. They watch the games and yell at their televisions. "No!" Yes!" Kids are crying in fear, wives are running for more nachos - it's chaos. It's madness. With victory comes elation and surfing a thousand websites to read the same article over and over again, and with defeat comes destitution of spirit and days of mourning and moping, angrily arguing on a blog about who really deserved it or an official's botched call. Every bit of those affections, every bit of that emotion, and every bit of that passion was given to us by God for God. It was not given for basketball."

This week marks the beginning of March Madness 2018.

Friends, in a couple of weeks it'll be Palm Sunday; the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem on an obscure donkey - whose job I would have gladly taken - amid the thrill and anticipation of a crowd with Final Four-like fever. The Messiah had arrived to overthrow the Romans. The favorite was entering the forum with no chance of losing. Phones out and selfies about, "LET'S GO, JESUS! Bom, bom, bom-bom-bom! LET'S GO, JESUS!" Any minute and you'd expect to hear "We are the Champions" being played in the background.

In our industry, even during this Holy season, we have an insatiable desire to conquer, to prove them wrong, to beat yesterday, to promote "faith and fitness," but like Chandler said, all of that passion and emotion that you and I feel toward the body - or our "ministry" - was given to us by God for God. As upside-down as it sounds, it wasn't given to us for gym. It wasn't given to us for the progress, or a scoreboard, or a goal, or a crossfit competition, or in my case, an ongoing recovery or continued rehab. All of the stirring of desire that swirls deep within my belly for my most prized objective was given to me by Jesus to be used on Him alone. 

Wait, here He comes. Here He comes down this narrow path on a mule amid chaos. What will I do with my moment near the Messiah?

As we enter March Madness and the holiest of seasons, may we all simply halt the game. Pick up the ball. Stop the momentum. Call a time out. Let the noise of the desperate crowd go silent even as they demand you to, "Shoot!! Shoot!"

Shoot, not this month. And maybe never again. At least not in the same way. Matt Chandler asks, "Where is our elation over the Resurrection?" Well, it's on our social media account. It's on our status. It's on our progress. It's on us.

Madness.

- Jimmy Peña

For Discussion: I'm so ready for a new week. To dig deep into God's Word. To pursue excellence in my marriage, my work and yes, to steward whatever health He allows with 'clear eyes and a full heart.' Does anyone have prayer requests that we can go to the Lord about? We promise to pray for you, and if you'd rather not get specific, simply say, "unspoken" and we'll lift you up by name.

RSVP

Last week around this time you would have seen me polishing my shoes and straightening my tie, as Loretta made some last minute decisions on earrings. We dressed up. Yes sir. Although my bride and I were likely the most unrecognizable pair at the pre-Oscar party, we dressed to the nines. Granted, our names are not in lights or surrounded by a star on Hollywood's Walk of Fame, so I know full well that our presence wasn't because of anything we'd done, but only because of who I know (and who knows me). 

Pastor Shawn Thornton says, "Grace is God giving us what we don't deserve." Like our presence at the party, nothing we've done merits the invitation, but because the Host wants us there, our acceptance is enough.

I'll spare you a dramatic transition, but I like to think that our temporary life and the humble, diligent care of the body He fashioned for it - is in many ways our opportunity to proclaim our RSVP; to say to those around us, "I care for myself because of Who made me and for those around me I can serve with it, all for the glory of His grace." And as we grow in that grace, we become increasingly aware of how much we are not the star of the show. Growing in grace in the fitness industry means realizing that our walk in the gym is sometimes a stride and oftentimes a crawl, but it's not a strut.

Indeed, our perspective about and our quiet care for our health during fit times (and sick times) is a visible RSVP that says we know who the award goes to.

--Jimmy Peña

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40 DAYS! Speaking of RSVP, time is running out. Whether you're here in L.A or anywhere coast-to-coast, please hurry and sign-up for our walk/run. And here's something, use this discount code on the image below. Share it with friends and family. Tell a neighbor. Some churches are forming teams! LET'S GO.

Start Pulling

I'll never forget it. I was nineteen; the newest member of a very small band of brothers. We weren't an official group on the Baylor University campus, by any means, these "Russell Rats." We had no membership roster, no board of directors or rules and regulations to speak of, but we were very exclusive. And although we weren't organized, we did pay our dues -- dues of a different kind that were collected daily. As far as acceptance into the group, well, it just happened. Call it a nonverbal recognition of pure heart. If you had it, you were in. And rather than Greek letters across our chest, we had chalk and sweat across our backs. There was no mistaking our crew.

In the late 80s, a small family of guys came one by one into the best (and only) fitness center on campus, Russell Gymnasium. The gym itself was actually a corner hole-in-the-wall within a bigger auditorium of basketball courts, with a two-tone, green concrete wall separating the outdated Universal equipment and rusty dumbbells from the courts next door.

Well, one sunny Waco afternoon, at a campus-wide celebration called Diadeloso (Day of the Bear), the group decided to enter itself into the annual tug-of-war competition. We wanted nothing more than to show the fraternities what real strength felt like. After a lot of hooplah, we marched -- in slow motion if I recall -- onto the sand. We could hear the audible gasp from the opposition. We nodded to one another with pre-victory smiles. After all, not only were we obviously strong, we had ourselves a plan. We reasoned that because we outweighed the competition, only half the team would pull when the whistle blew. And when one of us gave the signal, the rest of us would begin pulling. Trust me. We had it covered.

Well, we found our grip as our competition found theirs. I remember they were a preppy bunch. Handsome. But no doubt mismatched. We did our best not to giggle or point. The referee raised his hand to alert the start of the match and the whistle blew. And?!.....We got crushed. Within 20 seconds, we were pulled across the line. It honestly felt as if the rope was somehow cleverly tied to an F-150. What happened you ask? Well, a couple things actually. First, they had seven guys and we had six. Completely fair because the only limit was total weight, but an extra pair of arms pays off come to find out. But I think we lost miserably because we were overly confident and planned poorly.

Why the long stroll down memory lane? Well, if I learned anything that day as I lay face down, swallowing dirt and pride, it's that we can never underestimate the enemy in life, and we can't wait to start pulling. Plainly said, we have to give it all we have, never saving anything for the second half, the second set, the climb down, or the swim back. We can't wait to share Christ, visit the widow, give to the needy. The fact that you're reading and I'm typing means we're knee deep in sand and it's quick.

Friends, we have to be humble constantly and plan wisely. In every area of life, be it with quiet times, workouts, relationships, school, work...a humble heart and wisdom will please God every time. So hang on tight. And when the sun comes up and you've given God your day, just start pulling.

--Jimmy Peña

P.S. Four years later, I led a team of seven onto the sand. We won every match but the last one; to a team of eight.

For Discussion: Say "Amen" to new grace and mercy this Monday.

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Final Month: This is the final month leading up to our PrayFit 5K. Will you walk with us? You can do so from where ever you live. We're also unveiling one of our newest t-shirt to help celebrate and support the effort. They're available for pre-sell! Hurry and get yours! CLICK HERE!

Whine or Worship

Let's finish this week - a week that began by seeing how our physical suffering can be a sermon - with a prayer from none other than my friend Scotty Smith. (Loretta and I are holding his book and can't get enough of it.) I think prayer is the appropriate response for our condition and posture of pain. After all, like we've said before, it's not a sermon until it gets to Jesus so let's take it to Him together.

"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 the 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? If you don't have this book, order it before the day is up. I promise you it will bless your life. Click here to order yours: 

More Molding Than Sculpting

“The suffering of the apostles is the means by which 
the gospel makes its way.”

— NT Wright

What a powerful quote. I had the honor of listening to NT Wright lecture last year. Genius.

Well, hopefully you've a chance to read the last couple of entries, because they've reminded me of Gungor's hit song, "Beautiful Things." If you haven't heard it, the short chorus goes:

You make beautiful things.
You make beautiful things out of the dust.
You make beautiful things.
You make beautiful things out of us.

I don't always feel beautiful, do you? I mean, I'm capable of some pretty ugly things. Thoughts, actions, tendencies, habits. Put me in charge of something beautiful and I'll make it otherwise. But that's the beauty of salvation. When we accept Jesus into our hearts, He saves us from the penalty of sin. And as we live, He sanctifies us, progressively saving us from the power of sin. And ultimately, He will glorify us; forever saving us from the presence of sin.

What a picture for us in the fitness and nutrition industry. Dirt that gets molded and formed into the likeness of its Creator. Not always painlessly or peacefully, but like NT Wright's wonderful quote, when God's creation suffers, we have the glorious appointment to further the gospel; like the outstretched baton of a runner delirious in his relay. 

Guys, if you're anything like me, you need a makeover every single day; the kind a thousand reps can't produce. Sounds a bit heavenly-minded, but the highest goal of any fitness program is to bring us - and others - closer to Jesus. That's indisputable. Because we're dust. Come hardships, come pain, come suffering, we're dirt that needs more molding than sculpting. Amen?

Grace says I may not be pretty, but I will be beautiful.

- jimmy peña

Nothing Like It

If you missed yesterday's entry about Nick Vujicic - Your Suffering is a Sermon - I hope you're encouraged to read it. The weekend caused me to think back to something Scotty Smith once asked our PrayFit small groups. Enjoy.

Prayer Requests: What can we help you pray about today? If you'd rather not be specific, just say, "Unspoken" and Loretta and I promise to lift your name up in prayer.

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THE FUN IS ON: 
For those keeping score, we're nearly at 30 states and 3 countries represented in the PrayFit 5K happening on April 14.

Leading the way:
#1 - California
#2 - Georgia
#3 - Texas
#4 - Arizona
#5 - Florida

(And here comes Texas)

No matter where you live, please register to walk, jog, run or roll with us to help families affected by disability. Go solo or form a team.

MY BIB

I think Jordan and I will both wear #2.

Your Suffering is a Sermon

This weekend we had the honor of welcoming Nick Vujicic to our church. What an amazing time. Hundreds came to know Christ over the days of his visit. I look forward to sharing a few of his lines that personally touched my heart.

You know, for years we've said that our health is a means of praise and that our fitness can be a witness, and it's the truth. But if you look through the gospels, you won't find Jesus with the fit and fiddle. You won't find him around the strong, talking about able muscles, clear lungs or stable legs. And He certainly never wanted us to boast or show any of those things off. No. Where do we constantly find our Savior? With the sick. The ill. The needy, hurting, ailing, failing, and wailing. The "fitness is my witness" cliché?  Sure.  But like Max Lucado says, "It's your suffering that's a sermon."

Over the next few days, we'll look back at a few times the Lord allowed me to confess it. And at the same time, I'll ask you to share your life, your pain, your strain and the stories of those you love. Reminds me that when Nick was young he used to pray for a miracle. He used to say, "God, imagine what I could do with just one arm."

Friends, our God is at much at work during our illness as He is during our mountain-top moments. How we handle our pain-free abilities and gifts of good health can serve a mighty purpose - we can't downplay it - but where we go in times of pain and sickness says more to others about the God we serve than all of that combined.  

- Jimmy Peña

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Breathless

Read Luke 7

Back in graduate school, we had our share of underwater weighing assignments. Underwater weighing is regarded as the most valuable tool at determining body composition. However, in order for the subject to be seen accurately, it takes an extreme amount of effort and courage on the part of the person being tested. See, as you're lowered into the water, you have to empty your lungs, breathing out every drop of air possible.

The woman in Luke 7 defied ridicule and disregarded the rules to do one thing: pour everything she had at His feet. Broken, she just had to break free and nothing was going to stop her from seeing her Lord. After her tears cleaned His feet and her hair dried them, she courageously emptied her alabaster bottle of valuable perfume for Jesus to breathe in.

Friends, don't miss it today. When we're empty, we allow Him to see us. When we breathe it all out, He breathes it all in. Grace doesn't flex. It stoops. If only for today, let's pour our health at His feet like perfume and tears. Lord, here is all our praise, expressed from the top of our lungs.

- jimmy peña
 

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For Those That Can't: Are you signed up to walk, jog, run or roll in the PrayFit 5K? I hope so. There's still time to reserve your medal and t-shirt. Nearly 30 states and 3 countries are representing. If you want to know if your state is on the list, register! :-) 100% of the proceeds go to kids affected by disability and families affected by special needs.

1918-2018

With baseball season approaching, we thought we'd warm everyone up for our favorite time of year by talking about...the closer. For those who don't know, the closer is someone who specializes in sealing the deal. See, in baseball you play until the game is over. Not the case in other sports. Take basketball for instance. There's a minute left, you're up five points and rather than drive to the basket, you run out the clock. In football, you take a knee. Soccer, hockey -- you name it. Most major sports have a way to play it safe.

I think we all have the tendency to play it safe on occasion. As Christians, we can get into a mindset of "I'm saved, I can coast, I think I'll run out the clock today." But days can turn into weeks and weeks, years. Which reminds me, in baseball, there is no clock. You don't know how long a life -- I mean -- a game can last. Thus, the need for a closer. Someone who takes the hill and does his best work at the end.

We lost a closer yesterday. A hero of the faith. Although he would never refer to himself as such. But if anyone loved Jesus, it was Billy Graham. And if anyone wanted you and me to know Jesus, it was Billy Graham.

"End your journey well," he said. "Don’t waste your life, and don’t be satisfied with anything less than God’s plan." 

Thank you, Billy Graham. You took the hill your entire life to talk about Jesus. And now you're with Him. 

What a way to close.

photo design: Roger Coles

I'm Giving Up

As you'll soon see, we love this time of year. Longer days, better weather, and of course, baseball, all help put a spring in my step. Maybe you're the same? It's just a good time of the year for fresh starts and new beginnings. Which always reminds me of what Louie Giglio once said, "For Lent, I'm giving up."

Naturally, we think there's something missing from his sentence. Um, Louie? You forgot something buddy. When in truth, "period" is exactly what should come next. As we begin the Lenten season, let's remember that it's all about Jesus and what He did for us; not about what we can do, give up, commit to, or accomplish. (Or about our failure to succeed at any of that.) Nothing to prove, nothing to lose, nothing to hide.

I just finished ready the book, "The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness" by Tim Keller. What an incredible, powerful read. The message of the book has been playing a big part in my life lately in that - like Paul - we can have a low opinion of the opinion of others about us, but we can also have a low opinion of our opinion of us. I'll distill the book down to this: Paul didn't let other people judge him and he didn't even judge himself. He didn't connect his sins to himself, but he didn't connect his accomplishments to himself either. He was free. I want that kind of self-forgetfulness. That's what I want for Lent.

- Jimmy Peña

Discussion: The pressure isn't just off - it's non-existent. How does that help you prepare your heart for the Easter season? If part of your heart's preparation is indeed physical, as part of obedience and humble stewardship, will your commitments to healthier choices take on new meaning? Will it help shape not only the goals you set, but how you prepare and execute them? Or forgetting the physical changes, maybe you're just ready to give up trying to always be seen or applauded? Maybe you're ready to give up striving, competing, comparing, being noticed? If so, there's freedom when you do. Just remember. Lent is a heart issue, because when Jesus said, "It is finished," it was and still is. Aren't we glad we don't have to measure up? (And that actually makes me want to work harder in all areas of life. Isn't that incredible?)