Do you even lift, bruh?

My family needs an outlet. We’re finding lots of creative ways, but I have had my eyes set on getting a weightlifting bench and Olympic bar ever since the YMCA sent out a notice that they would have to remain closed for the duration of the COVID pandemic. But I am clearly not the only person who had this thought. Amazon is back-ordered, is back-ordered, you can buy one from Gold’s Gym, but it will arrive sometime in May. No thank you. Sorry, family. Push-ups, sit-ups, and planks will have to be our weightlifting. You want to lift? Lift your body weight.

But then I stumbled upon Offer Up, an app similar to Craigslist or other person-to-person sales. People can list something they have that they’re not using so that someone else can buy it. And just like that, we are the proud owners of a weight bench and an Olympic weightlifting bar. I’ve got all sorts of plans for my daily weightlifting routine and all of the plates and dumbells I’m going to buy to accompany our new acquisition. I haven’t lifted these kinds of free weights since I played softball in college, but all of a sudden, I think I’m basically a professional athlete.

I’ve also got some active dry yeast ready to go for my sourdough starter that I plan to get rolling on in the next couple of days. I started making biscuits from scratch on Sunday mornings. Today I rode a skateboard for the first time in about 20 years. I also brought my New Testament Greek and Biblical Hebrew textbooks home so I could get back into studying them.

I’ve seen this kind of thing going around and being applauded. I even saw this tweet:
If you don’t come out of this quarantine with either: 1.) a new skill 2.) starting what you’ve been putting off like a new business 3.) more knowledge You didn’t ever lack the time, you lacked the discipline.

That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve ever read. Because, as I named all the things that I’m doing, it’s clear to me—this does not show that I have everything under control, it shows that I flailing. I don’t know what to do so I’m doing everything. It’s like when a person first begins their journey in Alcoholics Anonymous. They may not be drinking, but they’re probably doing something else—drinking Dr. Pepper, smoking cigarettes, eating at Denny’s, drinking coffee. It’s not a bad thing. It’s certainly better than the alternative. But it’s also not a sign that the alcoholic has everything under control. In fact, the first step for AA is:
We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.

I keep picking things up because I’m trying to assert my power over this moment. Because I’m terrified of my powerlessness. But the truth is, I am powerless over this pandemic. I am powerless over the chaos of my household and the anxiety of this day.

I intend to go forward in this time remembering that I am not the one in control.

In Community,