Grief is like a very heavy barbell - How carrying lifelong grief and progressive overload are similar
I started this post back in the beginning of the year. My son with Autism had another birthday, which for me is always a time of reflection on how many years I have experienced the blessing of having him, but also the grief of his sudden regression and diagnosis.
Since his birthday, more has happened. Not specifically to me, but to those I love. Death, sickness, amputation...The world is broken and no one is left unscarred.
Hardship is sometimes fleeting, but for most of us, at some point, grief comes into our life and doesn't leave us again until we depart from this life. Some people get away with not having much permanent grief for a very long time. They have the hardships, perhaps the financial ones that tend to ease over time. The sickness they long have recovered from, although possibly attached to new fears they now must overcome, and eventually do. Maybe it's just the exhaustion of being overworked for a time, or a broken friendship or courtship where life goes on and the sadness of which eases with time.
Then there is grief that comes that will forever change you. You are no longer the person you were before "it" happened. You never will be again. The bright naivety of your past was ripped away, and you were left to survive with......."this". Till the day you die! It is your heavy backpack to carry.
It's like being handed a 315lb loaded barbell and being told to carry it. Well, some of us get a barbell, some a heavy sandbag. Some get a log bar. Some of us need to squat it, others overhead press, and others deadlift the weight. Our experiences are unique, but the reality is, it's all ultra heavy.
I personally picked 315lbs because I remember a time where 315 seemed like an impossible number. Today lifting 315 is still heavy, but most days doable. There are days where exhaustion is higher, and it's not manageable, and other days it's doable. Some days it's much easier than the weeks before or after, but it's always heavy, and it never gets lighter. 315lbs will always be 315lbs. I just got better at lifting it.
PROGRESSIVE OVERLOAD
Progressive overload is a strength training principle where you gradually increase the weight, frequency, or number of repetitions in your routine. This method challenges your body and promotes muscle and strength growth by continuously adding stress to the musculoskeletal system. It's essential for muscle and strength growth, and to avoid plateaus. It's hard work, but it ensures continuous progress forward.
With heavy grief, generally no one hands you a lighter weight to start with. Instead, most times you're brought into the training arena of life and handed the heavy barbell and told you must now lift this. Carry it. Till you die!
It seems impossible!
You look at this daunting task and wonder how you'll ever move this barbell into tomorrow, let alone from now on.
Not only are you given this barbell to carry, often well meaning, but naive people will add on more weight plates with unhelpful comments. Making it heavier and heavier.
For me, this was comments like calling my son "A little handicapped boy", or people telling me I should see everything with thankfulness when I was barely hanging on, or those who have NO experience with disability telling me I was parenting wrong, or that he didn't have Autism I was just spoiling him, and the list goes on...
I was left alone with my grief. No one noticed (or even believed me) when my child regressed. No one saw my tears, my worry, or the dysregulation, pain, and stress of my child. No one saw us hold him down in the shower while he screamed in pain from the sensation of water on him, or how he suddenly didn't eat his favorite foods and instead would gag on them, or how he went from a happy alert child to one who didn't recognize his own name anymore...
There were no hospital stays, there was no funerals, there was nothing to show the new grief and burden I carried, and therefore only loneliness.
It was me and this massive barbell of responsibility, loss , and grief and the added weight plates with each silly comment.
In those 1st days of your new normal, you wake up each day exhausted, sick to your stomach. Again and again, the next day, and the next. But soon, you begin to surrender yourself to it, and you realize it will always be there. Your forever companion.
I wake up everyday to my beautiful son, but I also wake up every day to his diagnosis and lifelong struggles, without any choice but to move forward. I love him wholly as he is, but I hate watching him struggle.
Those first days, I could only roll my barbell a short distance.
As time began to pass, in an effort to make it easier, I pulled off each plate and broke it down, and carried each part piece by piece. One day at a time. One task at a time.
Slowly I could maybe carry 2 plates at a time. Multitask. But there's a lot of plates , including some of those added plates on top of the 315.......and it's exhausting.
In time, you realize you can't carry your barbell AND those extra plates, and at some point realize in order to do your task well, you must forgive and remove those extra plates. You also learn to preserve your energy and don't allow anyone to add more to the barbell. Your friend list gets smaller, but you find a few good ones. You create boundaries with those that don't understand, etc.
Your original barbell is STILL 315lbs, but now you don't have the extra b.s. and you can again work on carrying your load.
Day by day, step by step, you begin to be able to lift it. First it may only be pulling the slack out of the bar, then later getting it lifted only to your knees, but finally, slowly, and at a slow grind of many days and years, you hit full lockout at the top.
It's exhausting, but each passing day you are more able to carry your barbell. Some days are more tiring, some days you may even need to de-load and pull the plates off again to carry it, and some days it may feel much lighter. BUT ALL DAYS, THAT BARBELL HASN'T GOTTEN LIGHTER. IT IS STILL 315LBS!!
And so it is with grief, It doesn't get lighter, you just get better at carrying it.
JESUS IS MY CARBOHYDRATE SOUCE
I might lose you here, I hope you'll stay though.
I can't continue this post without covering nutrition. Physical and Spiritual.
Lifting heavy things, building muscle and strength, is a very glucose dependent activity. I'm hard pressed to find a good powerlifter (strength athlete) who doesn't eat their fair share of carbs to fuel themselves.
I've seen a few genetically elite bodybuilders ( which is an aesthetic sport only) manage to build nice looking muscles, to a degree, on a low carb diet, BUT that's simply an aesthetic sport, not one that requires maximum strength. I'd be hard pressed to find a powerlifter or any other strength athlete worth their salt who is skipping the carbs.
Bodybuilders are not necessarily strong, they just look good. They have lots of muscle tissue but a lot of times, it's surface layer stuff.
Much like a bodybuilder who doesn't eat carbs (and most of them do, thankfully) and only protein and fat, they may have the building blocks, but they don't have the same power of glucose for their lifts.
Much like the gospel (protein) without the Holy Spirit and dependance on the work of Jesus, You might KNOW the Bible, own a Bible, even go to church, but do you KNOW the God who wrote it? Do you know how He fuels you?
Carbs = power. Carbs make you strong. You body NEEDS carbs for those big lifts. Some might think they don't, and live their whole life eating keto and missing out on the true strength they could have.
Just like progressive overload, carbs = strength.
Jesus is my carbs, my glucose. He gives me the strength. His promises to spiritually fuel me for my daily lifting. When I skip my carbs (prayers and devotions) , I get weaker...I think I can do it on my own, yet I end up exhausted and broken.
The beautiful thing about knowing the finished work of Salvation and hope of a new life with Jesus is this, My 315lb barbell is only for this life. He promises to hold my tears in a bottle (Ps 56:8) and he remembers them. He also promises to right all that is broken in this world, and that I will not have to carry my 315lbs into the next. I do not have the added stress of hopelessness, or the need to earn my salvation. I CAN NOT carry those extra weight plates. He carries those for me, and he fuels me to carry my 315lbs in this life.
Not only is He my strength for today, and my hope, but He is the only true Bread of life to all. Jesus is my carbohydrate. The thing that keeps me fueled and going forward. You could try lifting without, but why?
My dear reader. You may have been recently been given a very heavy barbell to carry. It may seen impossible, and maybe no one is there to physically carry it with you. Day by day, progressive overload will help you carry it better. It will always be the same weight, but you will get stronger. I promise you that!
But also, look to the bread of life, Jesus Christ, for hope, and fuel. I promise, He answers those who seek him.
JOHN 6
Since his birthday, more has happened. Not specifically to me, but to those I love. Death, sickness, amputation...The world is broken and no one is left unscarred.
Hardship is sometimes fleeting, but for most of us, at some point, grief comes into our life and doesn't leave us again until we depart from this life. Some people get away with not having much permanent grief for a very long time. They have the hardships, perhaps the financial ones that tend to ease over time. The sickness they long have recovered from, although possibly attached to new fears they now must overcome, and eventually do. Maybe it's just the exhaustion of being overworked for a time, or a broken friendship or courtship where life goes on and the sadness of which eases with time.
Then there is grief that comes that will forever change you. You are no longer the person you were before "it" happened. You never will be again. The bright naivety of your past was ripped away, and you were left to survive with......."this". Till the day you die! It is your heavy backpack to carry.
It's like being handed a 315lb loaded barbell and being told to carry it. Well, some of us get a barbell, some a heavy sandbag. Some get a log bar. Some of us need to squat it, others overhead press, and others deadlift the weight. Our experiences are unique, but the reality is, it's all ultra heavy.
I personally picked 315lbs because I remember a time where 315 seemed like an impossible number. Today lifting 315 is still heavy, but most days doable. There are days where exhaustion is higher, and it's not manageable, and other days it's doable. Some days it's much easier than the weeks before or after, but it's always heavy, and it never gets lighter. 315lbs will always be 315lbs. I just got better at lifting it.
PROGRESSIVE OVERLOAD
Progressive overload is a strength training principle where you gradually increase the weight, frequency, or number of repetitions in your routine. This method challenges your body and promotes muscle and strength growth by continuously adding stress to the musculoskeletal system. It's essential for muscle and strength growth, and to avoid plateaus. It's hard work, but it ensures continuous progress forward.
With heavy grief, generally no one hands you a lighter weight to start with. Instead, most times you're brought into the training arena of life and handed the heavy barbell and told you must now lift this. Carry it. Till you die!
It seems impossible!
You look at this daunting task and wonder how you'll ever move this barbell into tomorrow, let alone from now on.
Not only are you given this barbell to carry, often well meaning, but naive people will add on more weight plates with unhelpful comments. Making it heavier and heavier.
For me, this was comments like calling my son "A little handicapped boy", or people telling me I should see everything with thankfulness when I was barely hanging on, or those who have NO experience with disability telling me I was parenting wrong, or that he didn't have Autism I was just spoiling him, and the list goes on...
I was left alone with my grief. No one noticed (or even believed me) when my child regressed. No one saw my tears, my worry, or the dysregulation, pain, and stress of my child. No one saw us hold him down in the shower while he screamed in pain from the sensation of water on him, or how he suddenly didn't eat his favorite foods and instead would gag on them, or how he went from a happy alert child to one who didn't recognize his own name anymore...
There were no hospital stays, there was no funerals, there was nothing to show the new grief and burden I carried, and therefore only loneliness.
It was me and this massive barbell of responsibility, loss , and grief and the added weight plates with each silly comment.
In those 1st days of your new normal, you wake up each day exhausted, sick to your stomach. Again and again, the next day, and the next. But soon, you begin to surrender yourself to it, and you realize it will always be there. Your forever companion.
I wake up everyday to my beautiful son, but I also wake up every day to his diagnosis and lifelong struggles, without any choice but to move forward. I love him wholly as he is, but I hate watching him struggle.
Those first days, I could only roll my barbell a short distance.
As time began to pass, in an effort to make it easier, I pulled off each plate and broke it down, and carried each part piece by piece. One day at a time. One task at a time.
Slowly I could maybe carry 2 plates at a time. Multitask. But there's a lot of plates , including some of those added plates on top of the 315.......and it's exhausting.
In time, you realize you can't carry your barbell AND those extra plates, and at some point realize in order to do your task well, you must forgive and remove those extra plates. You also learn to preserve your energy and don't allow anyone to add more to the barbell. Your friend list gets smaller, but you find a few good ones. You create boundaries with those that don't understand, etc.
Your original barbell is STILL 315lbs, but now you don't have the extra b.s. and you can again work on carrying your load.
Day by day, step by step, you begin to be able to lift it. First it may only be pulling the slack out of the bar, then later getting it lifted only to your knees, but finally, slowly, and at a slow grind of many days and years, you hit full lockout at the top.
It's exhausting, but each passing day you are more able to carry your barbell. Some days are more tiring, some days you may even need to de-load and pull the plates off again to carry it, and some days it may feel much lighter. BUT ALL DAYS, THAT BARBELL HASN'T GOTTEN LIGHTER. IT IS STILL 315LBS!!
And so it is with grief, It doesn't get lighter, you just get better at carrying it.
JESUS IS MY CARBOHYDRATE SOUCE
I might lose you here, I hope you'll stay though.
I can't continue this post without covering nutrition. Physical and Spiritual.
Lifting heavy things, building muscle and strength, is a very glucose dependent activity. I'm hard pressed to find a good powerlifter (strength athlete) who doesn't eat their fair share of carbs to fuel themselves.
I've seen a few genetically elite bodybuilders ( which is an aesthetic sport only) manage to build nice looking muscles, to a degree, on a low carb diet, BUT that's simply an aesthetic sport, not one that requires maximum strength. I'd be hard pressed to find a powerlifter or any other strength athlete worth their salt who is skipping the carbs.
Bodybuilders are not necessarily strong, they just look good. They have lots of muscle tissue but a lot of times, it's surface layer stuff.
Much like a bodybuilder who doesn't eat carbs (and most of them do, thankfully) and only protein and fat, they may have the building blocks, but they don't have the same power of glucose for their lifts.
Much like the gospel (protein) without the Holy Spirit and dependance on the work of Jesus, You might KNOW the Bible, own a Bible, even go to church, but do you KNOW the God who wrote it? Do you know how He fuels you?
Carbs = power. Carbs make you strong. You body NEEDS carbs for those big lifts. Some might think they don't, and live their whole life eating keto and missing out on the true strength they could have.
Just like progressive overload, carbs = strength.
Jesus is my carbs, my glucose. He gives me the strength. His promises to spiritually fuel me for my daily lifting. When I skip my carbs (prayers and devotions) , I get weaker...I think I can do it on my own, yet I end up exhausted and broken.
The beautiful thing about knowing the finished work of Salvation and hope of a new life with Jesus is this, My 315lb barbell is only for this life. He promises to hold my tears in a bottle (Ps 56:8) and he remembers them. He also promises to right all that is broken in this world, and that I will not have to carry my 315lbs into the next. I do not have the added stress of hopelessness, or the need to earn my salvation. I CAN NOT carry those extra weight plates. He carries those for me, and he fuels me to carry my 315lbs in this life.
Not only is He my strength for today, and my hope, but He is the only true Bread of life to all. Jesus is my carbohydrate. The thing that keeps me fueled and going forward. You could try lifting without, but why?
My dear reader. You may have been recently been given a very heavy barbell to carry. It may seen impossible, and maybe no one is there to physically carry it with you. Day by day, progressive overload will help you carry it better. It will always be the same weight, but you will get stronger. I promise you that!
But also, look to the bread of life, Jesus Christ, for hope, and fuel. I promise, He answers those who seek him.
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