I have a torn labrum. A few months ago, I didn’t know what a labrum was. I don’t even know how I tore it. I like to imagine it’s an old injury from my glory days on the varsity baseball team, but it’s probably the pedestrian result of an almost fifty-year-old guy having done something under the misguided belief that he’s still nineteen.
Regardless, it’s not inclined to heal on its own, and since I’d like to avoid surgery in my painting arm, physical therapy was prescribed. The game plan has been to strengthen the other shoulder muscles to stabilize the area, putting less strain on the labrum.
The physical therapist has prescribed some familiar exercises and others that feel foreign and are hard to master. He often incorporates everyday items – a rubber ball, a towel, a door frame – into the exercises. I am surprised at how fatiguing some of the simple ones can be. None are especially comfortable. I tell myself that’s how I know they are working.
Although the techniques occasionally surprise me, I don’t feel the need to question, accuse, or complain to the therapist. I just do what I’m told. I know the discomfort is temporary, leading to a greater good, and besides, I asked for this. I came to the expert, told him what I wanted (a pain-free shoulder), he assured me he could help, and so here I am, stretching a green band across my body, feeling the burn. I trust he’s pinpointed exercises to achieve the goal.
I’m feeling progress. And with it, I’ve learned a lesson that applies to my spiritual life.
I wouldn’t say I have a torn soul, but it’s not as healthy as it could be. Too much vice. A time came not long ago when I decided to take things to a new level. “I’d like to grow in virtue,” I prayed. “I actually think I’d like to become a saint.”
And the Holy Spirit replied, “I can help with that.”
It took my time working with a physical therapist to realize that the Holy Spirit, the Great Healer, has been working as my spiritual therapist.
Or at least trying to. You see, my attitude is nowhere near the same, and I’ve been far less obedient. Any time the Holy Spirit gives me an exercise to strengthen a specific virtue, I balk. I complain, I whine, I lament, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
These virtue-building exercises are uncomfortable, fatiguing, and sometimes a little painful. Just like the exercises from my physical therapist. It should be a sign to me that they are working.
For some reason, I’ve been under the delusion that growing in virtue should be painless, magical, and immediate. Physical therapy doesn’t work that way, but apparently, I believe the Holy Spirit will wave a magic wand to get the job done without any effort on my part. I act surprised when my spiritual therapist uses everyday situations as exercises to help me get stronger.
Like the other day, when my printer stopped working. I had a lot to print, and some of the nozzles were clogged. The head cleaning function proved fruitless. Slowly, I felt the familiar frustration boil up…”C’mon, God! Why can’t I ever catch a break? This printer is driving me crazy! Why can’t things just work?! I guess my hope of sneaking in this project this morning before we go to the beach was too much to ask…”
Then came the still, small whisper, a slow realization that I had enlisted the Holy Spirit as a spiritual therapist, but I was acting differently than I do with my physical therapist. In that moment, I was given the grace to see the truth.
I calmly determined that this little “exercise” was given to me to help me grow in at least two virtues: faith and patience. I needed to claim the faith that God was with me in this trial and would help me resolve it, and I needed to practice patience with the process.
Just as my physical therapist gives me instructions for maintaining good form to do each exercise well and gain the most benefit, the Lord has also given me instructions for maintaining good form in these spiritual exercises: be patient and sing praise. Further, habits like daily prayer, fasting, going to Mass, and receiving the sacraments help me get the most benefit in these times of trial.
Some exercises the Holy Spirit sends are new and unusual (like dealing with an unexpected diagnosis), and sometimes they are familiar challenges (there’s that dang printer again!). They’re all helping me grow in virtue toward sainthood (which is what I asked for).
With this new insight, I thanked Him for this exercise. I focused on the task at hand, calmly troubleshooting one thing at a time: cleaning the print head again, replacing some cartridges, consulting the manufacturer’s online documentation, etc. Each attempt that didn’t resolve the issue gave me a chance to practice patience, and while I was waiting for certain steps to reveal their result, I used the time to work on another task while praising Him for his help.
Both my physical and spiritual therapists have my best interests in mind. They each know my current level and what I can handle. At the start of my physical therapy, one exercise involved a small dumbbell I used until I graduated to a slightly heavier one. God works that way, too, slowly building up the difficulty of the “weights” He gives me. He won’t give me something that will permanently injure me, even if it might hurt and leave me sore for quite some time. When I’m discouraged, it’s helpful to be reminded of my progress and how the weights He gives me these days would have crushed my younger self.
In the end, I resolved my printer issue, not by magic, but with faith and patience. I may have been able to solve the problem without them, but the “good form” I used helped me receive the most benefit from the exercise the Holy Spirit gave me that day.
Pope Benedict XVI said, “You were not made for comfort, but for greatness.”
Striving for greatness can be difficult and uncomfortable, but if we cooperate with the Holy Spirit and maintain good form on the reps He gives us, we’ll end up feeling better and stronger.
Who knows? When He’s done with us, we may even end up as saints.
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