I’ve recently started taking Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. For the most part, it’s incredibly enjoyable. In fact, I’m really surprised by how much I’ve grown to like it. The people are especially inclusive, respectful, and warm. It’s been a beautifully welcoming place filled with different people from all different walks of life. What I’ve come to discover however, is that the process of learning such an art is a slow one, and some days, more difficult than anything else. As I tend to do, I began seeing parallels between Jiu Jitsu and our lives with Christ.

Just a few minutes ago I found myself being repeatedly and continuously pretzled onto the mat of the dojo, either having my ribs crushed, or thinking my hamstrings were going to be snapped from their intended placement. I have also never been a creature filled with grace or ease of movement, so these impediments were probably compounded by this fact. Needless to say, despite these deterrents the process of slowly learning how to get out of these tricky situations is very rewarding and exhilarating.

So how does this relate to a life of faith? Well, as I was slowly having the breath crushed out of me, I was contemplating the fact that in our walk, there are often struggles that make us gasp for air and wonder if there’s a way back to greener pastures that are inevitably more pleasant. The fact that I was contemplating all of this whilst being squashed probably didn’t actually help with the fact that I remained in my same predicament without escaping (hindsight). But it did lead me to ponder the fact that in the midst of being crushed, pressed, bruised, we are undoubtedly made stronger, and growing stronger is generally the outcome of pain. So as we are facing seasons of discomfort, sorrow or overall hardship, perhaps the lens that we tend to look through in those seasons can be modified. It’s all too easy during those times of suffering to become bogged down by grief, believing that the situation is insurmountable. And though that proves to be true at times, this sport has given me the clarity to see that there is always the opportunity to get back up and persist. Your attempts may not be perfect, and you may still be wounded from the last go-round life has thrown at you, but because of God’s promise to never give up and always remain faithful to His children, our efforts for Him are not futile.

Another element that I’ve grown to love about this sport is the fact that you learn how to look like a complete fool alongside others. The objective of learning together is not to come across as perfect or as someone who knows everything. In fact, if you do try to come across that way, it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll find yourself humbled, and quickly, by those with greater capabilities than yourself. The willingness of these friends to include, love, and instruct have taught me the beauty of loving each person, not for what they may or may not have to offer, but as the person that

God has made them to be. And part of loving is in helping one another cultivate and discover who God has purposed them to become. It’s a long, and sometimes jarring process. You may end up with a few bumps and bruises along the way, but with the help of strong communities and God, we can discover that the tumult may just be worth rejoicing over.