When the Hits Keep Coming

I've always loved inspirational sports movies. Of this love, I stand completely unashamed. One of my favorites (it's a classic really) is the Rocky franchise...primarily Rocky 1-4 but we can talk about that another day.

Among the many falsehoods I learned from these movies (and the genre more broadly) is that the only limitation on the number of hits you can take is your willpower. Surely you know what I mean. Rocky routinely goes 12 rounds with almost no defense taking hooks and crosses and jabs to the face with shocking resilience. Here's the lie: there's no limit to the number of hits you can take if you want it bad enough.

Of a handful (only a handful) of truly miserable experiences in my life was the requisite boxing class I had to take in my Freshman year at West Point. I dreaded that class. I'm not the most coordinated - pretty average when it comes to agility and footwork. At the time, I managed to just sneak in to the heaviest weight group in our class (you never want to be at the bottom of the weight class fighting only people much bigger than you). To make a long story much shorter, I learned that my face didn't care how strong my willpower was...it didn't matter how much I wanted it. A face can only take so many hits.

Hopefully you don't need to experience a pummeling to realize this truth. For what is true in boxing (or sports more generally) is also true in life. You can only take so many hits. At a certain point, it doesn't matter how strong your will, if you get hit hard enough and consistent enough, you will go down.

Just the other morning, I was reading and made a connection I hadn't before. At the end of Matthew 13, we read about Jesus' return to his hometown of Nazareth. Things didn't go well there. He was ridiculed and mocked. No one believed in him. The town "took offense at him." And we are told, "he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith"(Matthew 13:58). I can't imagine that Jesus wanted to not do many miracles. I can't believe that he hoped he'd be rejected by folks he'd known his whole life. Rejection never feels good.

Then, we hear the story of John the Baptist's death - a seemingly senseless execution fulfilling the whims of a self-centered royal family. After John's headless corpse was placed in a grave, some of his disciples found Jesus to convey the news. John - Jesus' cousin and the one who baptized him in the Jordan; John - a model of commitment and real devotion and love; John - the greatest of those born from a woman (which is...everybody?). After the rejection of Nazareth, the death of John - the one man who really seemed to get it - must have hurt - a lot.

So what does Jesus do? Does he tough it out? Stay in the ring? Keep taking hits? Say, "It'll get better; I just need to have more faith."

No... "When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. ” (Matthew 14:13, NIV)

He needed to get a boat and get alone. And sometimes, when the hits keep coming, so do you. It's not selfish and it's not irresponsible. In fact, I'd argue it's selfish and irresponsible not to take the time you need to recover. The people around you will feel the consequences when you don't.

Ironically, these events set the stage for some miraculous moments - perhaps revealing an important truth: when we are at our weakest, God's power is evidently most visible. He is met by a crowd looking for more from him. So, with "compassion" he healed their sick and fed thousands. But when they were done, what did Jesus do? When the immediate need was met: “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.” (Matthew 14:22–23, NIV)

You will have moments in life (maybe you have quite recently) when the hits keep coming. Don't just stand in there with your hands at your side taking the shots. You will need to, at some point, get quiet and get alone and allow yourself to be restored. The greatest gift you have to offer your family, your employees, your co-workers, your classmates, is a healthy and restored you.

It won't just happen. You'll have to plan for it. It probably won't look like a full blown vacation either. Instead, it might mean a couple hours of sanctuary in the midst of the chaos. In our world, that can be hard to do sometimes. But trust me on this: it will be harder for you and everyone around you if you don't.