Private Progress

At my gym, there are always personal trainers working with clients.

Yesterday was no different, except this one trainer I had never seen before was offering instruction in a relatively loud voice.

I was listening to a podcast with headphones in, but I could still hear them.

I immediately thought, “If I were new to working out and hired a personal trainer, I would not want to attract attention to me in any way, so they would basically have to whisper instructions to me.”

The mental image cracked me up.

Picture a trainer cupping a hand around my ear between sets, leaning in like we are sharing state secrets.

That would be bizarre, right?

That very audible training session got me thinking.

Instead of the gentle nudging and instruction we all regularly receive from God, imagine if He shone a giant spotlight on us and spoke in a booming God voice so everyone could hear how He was dealing with us.

Yikes!

I mean, nobody is perfect, so we would all be in the same proverbial boat, but I still would not want the world to hear how He has had to manage all my flaws!

Thankfully, He does not shove me to the center of the room and bark orders so everyone can hear.

Instead, He leans in close.

Most of the time, His instruction feels more like the whisper I crave.

A nudge in my conscience.

A line in Scripture that will not let go.

A quiet thought that circles back until I finally pay attention.

Sometimes, He whispers so softly that I miss it.

Sometimes I miss it again.

And again.

Yet He keeps working.

Never giving up on me.

In my mind, I picture Him and me in a quiet studio, with Him chiseling away like a sculptor.

He carves and sands, trims and smooths.

There are little cuts and taps of the hammer, yes, but it is not a show.

Just the skill of the Master at work.

It must be tedious for Him.

It often feels molecular to me.

And it is very private.

The inside job no one sees.

The small yes, the quiet forgiveness, the unseen surrender.

Yet the results are never meant to stay hidden forever.

Sooner or later, what He does in secret starts to show on the outside.

A little more patience where there used to be an audible huff.

A thoughtful answer where there used to be sarcasm.

Anger transformed into a peace that makes no sense on paper.

Contemplative silence where there once was endless distraction.

I often pray, “Lord, help me grow. Change me. Make me stronger,” and in the same breath, my heart quietly adds, “and please, if possible, do not let anyone see me wobble while You work.”

I keep asking to grow, while also hoping He keeps most of my growing private.

He is kind enough to begin at His perfect time.

In the places where it is just Him and me.

And I accept that some of His work will eventually be visible.

Not as a performance, but as fruit.

Back to my workout.

There I stood.

In the gym. Headphones in. Barbell in my hands.

Thinking about everything other than my next rep.

Unlike the trainer with her new client, I trust that God is completely unbothered by my sometimes imperfect form, yet utterly committed to my becoming stronger, one quiet instruction at a time.

And I will take that every day of the week.