Standing

Today I was reminded of something.

A couple of years ago, my counselor told me that the word she would use to describe me was ‘survivor’. I immediately hated that. Survivor feels like a passive participant who stumbled upon victory – someone who by luck and chance and wits managed to walk away from the plane crash or cancer. Someone whom life had acted upon; a victim of circumstance, but yet managed to eek her way through.

Without a whole lot of thought, I responded that I’d rather be described as a Warrior. Someone who has been actively pursuing victory. Perhaps the odds weren’t in her favor, but she fought courageously anyway. Fighting against the enemy. Strong, and certainly not a victim.

At that point, as she was a big proponent of yoga, she introduced me to the Warrior Pose. As soon as I saw it, something clicked in my brain, and I knew it was the visual representation of what I wanted my life to be.

I have to begin by saying I know nothing about yoga.

My time spent attempting the Virabhadrasana 1 (Vira=hero, bhadra=friend, asana=pose) position was directed by a variety of YouTube videos and miscellaneous websites and nods of friends. I have no idea if what I was doing was technically correct. But I feel OK about that, because the way I’ve been doing Life is probably not technically correct either.

The first time I did this pose, I was dressing for work in my bedroom. I attempted to recreate what I saw in the photo galleries on my screen, my right knee bent over my right ankle, my left leg extended back with left foot slightly tilted. As I awkwardly extended my arms upward, I became acutely aware of only one feeling. Pain. I hurt, deep within every muscle between my knees and waist.  I had no idea how painful standing still could be.

What I desperately wanted to do in that moment was move. Shift my weight. Pick a different position. But to do this correctly, I couldn’t choose a different position – after all in life, often (maybe not always, but often) circumstances are chosen for you. In this position I was called to stand still.

I observed two things during this attempt and those that followed.

First. The grip between my feet and the surface on which I stood deeply affected my strength and ability to maintain that position. That connection could make or break me. No matter my inner strength, my physical strength, if I stood on a slippery surface in socks, I had no chance of holding my position.

And Second. I could affect the magnitude of the pain for brief moments in time by shifting my focus to my hands. As I considered where my hands were reaching, and concentrated my mind on that location, I noticed that pain occupied less of my attention. That time was short though, because as soon as I made the observation, I thought about pain, and my thoughts went back to my aching muscles, that hurt just as much as before. But because of those brief moments, I had new hope that I could stand longer and stronger than I had previously thought possible. 

As I’ve been reflecting on these things, the pain of standing, the significance of the connection with the surface upon which one stands, and the focus of one’s attention, I’ve thought much about God’s word in Ephesians, “Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power…then after the battle, you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground.”

Grief was the ache I felt deep within during those days years ago. I woke up, and it hit my chest like a brick before I even got out of bed. It was my first emotion of the day. This was not a circumstance I chose for myself. This was thrust upon me. And just like when I attempted the Warrior pose and itched to move to relieve the pain, I had that same desire in life. But that’s not how life works, and I had observed that as my former husband had tried to outrun his pain. He had immersed himself in video games, alcohol, pornography. He ran away, moved out, obsessed about others. And eventually, took his life.

Standing firm, though it sounds deceptively simple, is hard. And it can be painful.

The ability to stand your ground depends greatly on where you are deriving your strength – what you are rooted in – and where you place your hope -- what you focus on. Standing our ground, claiming this space for light and love and reconciliation despite all that seeks to darken and despise and condemn, is what God asks of us. Just as Gandalf reminded the soldiers of Gondor, that “no matter what comes through that Gate, you will stand your ground.” That is His call for us, for you, for me.

And here I sit, remembering that lesson. Though years have passed, and circumstances have changed, standing still in my mess continues to bring new challenges. So I'm grateful for the reminder.

Warrior. hero friend. Whatever the battle brings you today. Don’t run. Don’t charge. Dig your roots in deep. Focus on what matters. And stand your ground.