Faith Over Chaos

Well, this one might show my age — although, let’s be real, the grown children and grandchildren references probably gave that away long before today. A few weeks ago I got injured and fell off the treadmill routine. Today I finally climbed back on.

And let me tell you: Mr. Treadmill had zero grace for my return.

My hips complained. My knees protested. My foot even threw in a dramatic cramp just to make sure I knew who was in charge. I pushed through anyway, determined to finish my little “meet‑cute” with Mr. Treadmill… but it was nothing like the level I was at before. My body was not ready to pick up where we left off.

Mr. Treadmill didn’t care. No adjustment. No easing in. No “Hey girl, welcome back.” He wanted it all. He wanted to remind me of every day I didn’t show up, every moment I could’ve returned but didn’t, every excuse I made because I was scared to face him again. And honestly? I swear he whispered lies at me.

“You’re not strong enough.”

“You’ll just get injured again.”

Scripture tells us exactly where lies like that come from — the enemy, who Jesus calls “the father of lies”.

…for he is a liar and the father of lies. John 8:44 NIV

But I didn’t let it stop me. I pressed on. I fought through every ache. Defeat tried to creep in, but I refused to give it a seat on the treadmill with me. Mr. Treadmill did not win today. He tried — oh, he tried — but I walked off that thing victorious… even if it was a victory without grace or mercy.

And Then There’s God

Here’s the part that hits a little deeper:

I’ve left God before. I’ve paused my walk. I’ve wandered like the prodigal son — honestly, more than once, like I was trying to earn some kind of Prodigal of the Year crown. (BTW, it doesn’t exist. Don’t waste your time. Freebie of the day. You’re welcome.)

I didn’t wander because I was injured. I wandered because I thought I knew better. Because I thought maybe this wasn’t for me. Because sometimes the Word hits hard soil and bounces right off.

But then… I came back. I sought the Lord again. And unlike Mr. Treadmill, He welcomed me with open arms.

And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 ESV

He didn’t give me pain for returning. He didn’t lecture me about leaving. He didn’t hand me a list of all the ways I’d failed. Let’s be honest — we do that to ourselves far better than He ever would. The only ache I felt was the ache I carried from being away from Him.

This type of grace is just not how we act to each other and certainly not how Mr. Treadmill was to me today. But we know that His ways are not our ways.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8–9 ESV

When I returned, He didn’t ask why. He didn’t demand a report of what I learned while wandering. He didn’t remind me of the distance I’d created.

He only gave me grace.

Grace to remember what He’d already taught me. Grace to pick up where we left off. Grace to realize that everything I thought I’d forgotten came flooding back because He had been holding it for me the whole time — every note, every moment, every seed planted in our garden together.

And yes, He was waiting there. In the garden I abandoned. Arms open.

Grace immeasurable. Ready not to start over, but to start again.

And He’ll Do the Same for You

If you’ve wandered, paused, or sprinted in the opposite direction… He’s still ready. He still has grace.

He still has your garden waiting — the place where you and He meet, breathe, and begin again.

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. James 4:8 ESV

Helping you find peace in the garden again— because God doesn’t make you warm up first.

If you’ve been dodging your own Mr. Treadmill, spiritually or otherwise… maybe it’s time to ask what lies you’ve been listening to.

1. What lies have you been listening to lately — and who do they sound like? (If they’re shaming, accusing, or discouraging… they’re not from your Father.)
2. Where have you been trying to “earn your way back” instead of just returning?
3. What part of your walk with God feels hardest to restart — and what small, gentle step could you take today?
4. Have you confused God’s welcome with the world’s judgment?
5. What would it look like to pick up where you left off — without shame, without warm‑up, without earning it?