LIFT— What Is Your Strength For? | 080926

For most of my life, strength had a number attached to it.

135.

225.

315.

345.

Every milestone under the bar felt like proof that I was becoming stronger.

In many ways, it was.

But looking back now, I realize I wasn't just adding weight to a bar.

I was also adding years, responsibilities, and perspective.

The barbell never changed.

I did.

The Sound of Steel

There’s something I've always loved about barbells.

It has nothing to do with the weight.

It's the sound.

The loud clang when another 45-pound plate slides onto the sleeve.

The gentle rattle as the plates settle before a lift.

The solid bang when the bar finds the J-hooks again.

To most people, it's just noise.

To me, it's always sounded like opportunity.

Another chance to become a little stronger.

Another chance to become a little better.

I hope I never stop loving that sound.

One Plate

The first time I benched 135 pounds, I felt like I'd crossed into a new world.

One full-sized 45-pound plate on each side.

If you've spent any time lifting, you know the feeling.

It isn't just another weight.

It looks different.

It feels different.

As a freshman who'd never trained seriously before high school, it felt like "man weight."

Funny how we remember those milestones.

I don't remember 185.

I don't remember 205.

But I remember one plate.

Then two.

Then three.

Some milestones stay with us because they represent more than numbers.

They remind us who we were becoming.

Chasing 405

Several years ago, after dealing with shoulder injuries that kept me from testing myself for a long time, I felt healthy again.

315 moved easier than I expected.

That one workout gave birth to a new goal.

405. 

My programming changed.

Everything revolved around getting stronger.

Heavy doubles.

Heavy triples.

Week after week.

335 came.

Then 345.

I even had the privilege of hitting that lifetime PR with my son Damian spotting beside me.

The first lift wasn't recorded because my phone fell over.

So I rested, set it back up, and did it again.

Looking back, I don't laugh because I had to repeat the lift.

I laugh because I got to celebrate that moment with my son.

That memory has become far more valuable than the number itself.

The Morning After

The next morning my shoulder woke me before my alarm did.

For weeks I struggled to sleep.

Simple things became difficult.

Taking my shirt off.

Rolling over in bed.

Lifting my arm.

Months of rehab gave me something I wasn't expecting.

Perspective.

The goal hadn't been wrong.

It had simply become incomplete.

There was a season when chasing bigger numbers taught me discipline, consistency, confidence, and resilience.

I don't regret that season.

But life eventually began asking me a different question.

Not:

"How much can you lift?"

But:

"What is your strength for?"

Strength for Service

I still love strength training.

I still bench.

I still smile every time another 45 slides onto the bar.

Some things never change.

But my purpose has.

These days I train so I can coach well.

So I can help my wife carry something heavy.

So I can throw a football with my boys.

So I can stay healthy enough to one day pick up my grandchildren.

Strength isn't something I pursue just to possess.

It's something I pursue so I can give it away.

A Different Kind of Stewardship

The Apostle Paul writes,

"Everything is permissible for me—but not everything is beneficial." -1 Corinthians 6:12

That verse has taken on new meaning for me over the years.

There was a time when chasing another plate was beneficial.

It taught me lessons I genuinely needed to learn.

But wisdom isn't just knowing what you're capable of.

It's knowing what best serves your calling in the season you're in.

Paul also reminds us:

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit... Therefore honor God with your bodies." -1 Corinthians 6:19–20

For years I thought honoring God with my body meant making it stronger.

Now I believe it also means making it available.

Available to serve.

Available to lead.

Available to kneel in prayer.

Available to keep showing up for the people He's entrusted to me.

Reflection

Ask yourself:

• What is your strength for?

• Has your definition of success changed over the years?

• Are you training only for achievement—or also for stewardship?

• What season are you in right now?

• How can your strength better serve the people God has entrusted to you?

Prayer

Lord,

Thank You for every season of strength You've allowed me to experience.

Teach me to pursue excellence without letting achievement become my identity.

Help me steward this body You've entrusted to me so I can continue serving my family, my community, and Your Kingdom with joy.

May every workout remind me that strength is never the destination.

It is preparation for the work You've called me to do.

Amen.

Closing Challenge

This week, don't ask yourself...

"How much can I lift?"

Ask yourself...

"What is my strength preparing me to do?"