Louie and the Wolf

Riding the indoor trainer is a last resort.  When running or cycling outside is unusually impractical, I'll spend an hour sweating it out on the exercise bike.  I'm not sure that these contraptions weren't present in the Gulags or Japanese prison camps - they are torture to the mind (and body) if you have the fortitude to make it so.

My diversion in the past has been a sort of documentary I found on Hulu, Battlefront, a series of 30 minute episodes chronologically portraying the phases and battles of WWII using veterans' interviews and a bunch of old black and white footage.  I found it to be interesting, as did Ella, to the chagrin of my wife.  As the GI's charge across the Solomon Islands, I pour sweat too, following along on my bicycle. Bombs crash, airplane engines drone overhead, and the cranks of the trainer creak as I push the resistance up one more level to keep up.

But they seem to have pulled the series from Hulu.  Last time I rode the trainer I settled for a series of documentaries on how they record various outdoor extreme sports such as Heli-skiing, Downhill Mountain biking, etc.  Interesting enough, but for this morning, Sunday morning, I needed something more likely to prepare me for worship.

I've seen Louie Giglio's presentations in the past on YouTube, and his being the only name coming readily to mind, I started searching for a presentation that was about an hour long.  51:22 for one titled Symphony (I Lift My Hands) seemed good enough, so I started spinning and hit play.  Louie Giglio is an accomplished communicator and is doing a great job connecting with today's youth, but he also managed to communicate with me.  If you've been connected to the internet for much time at all you've likely come across his presentation of the stars, whales, and Chris Tomlin singing How Great is Our God together.  It's spine tingling and likely to cause one of those goofy grins that you realize too late, but only because you see everyone else wearing the same expression.

That same presentation was integrated into this video, and so I nearly stopped it and looked for something new and different - but I had to let him finish the song.  I'm glad I did because the remainder was a challenge to live a life of worship.  I won't spoil the video since I think you should watch it for yourself.

But why am I pushing a YouTube video?  Because it was just what I needed.  Friday, we spoke via conference call to the mother of a little boy - yet to be born.  Her life and ours seem to have been chosen by God to meet for that fireside chat Bec wrote about last time.  The tiny, developing baby boy that she carries now, will - God willing - someday be our son.  We've started signing papers and making lists. The blizzard seems to have lifted momentarily - just as long as we don't think about it too much.

If we carry the blizzard analogy forward, there is now another element.  A black shadow now darts in and out among the trees as we plunge ahead.  Why didn't I see him sooner?  This malignant wolf obviously has my scent.  I know his name.  Anxiety.  We've met before.

Over 4 years ago he shredded me as I tripped along the path toward the delivery of our 2nd daughter.  The loss of our son Ezekiel, and the passing of a friend's wife at the delivery of her baby put the beast on my scent from the instant Bec showed me the positive test.  Anxiety nearly ate me alive then, and has been nearby ever since.

I needed that video.  The wolf is padding through the shadows again, and I could really use some ammunition.  Why didn't I see him sooner?  Because the blizzard was too much, and all I could do is look for the right path.  Now the path is more clear...and so are a lot of other things.  The mother of our son has a name.  She has needs.  We have a due date.  We have needs.  The pitfalls ahead are innumerable, and that hound has begun pointing them all out in an effort to get us off the path.

I could really use some ammunition.  I got it this morning.  Worship.

BLAM!

I hit him this morning with the biggest shell at my disposal.  Anxiety stumbled and plowed a furrow in a drift before howling off into the woods.  It felt good to shoot back.  Worship packs a punch.  But I'll be out of ammunition soon, I realize, and will need to get more.  In another video?  No, I didn't get that ammunition from the video - I got it from God's Word.  Yes, Louie let me borrow some of his ammo, shared with me through a video, but there is an endless supply right now within arm's reach.

Supplied with ample shells found neatly arranged between the brown leather covers of an ancient book, I intend to blast that old enemy again and again.  I've known that I have the upper hand on Anxiety and can conquer it at any time by tapping into God's infinite supply of peace and strength.  Yet, a simple message was necessary to remind me of what I already know.  I hope you can benefit from it too.