SPAIN

A year ago, some friends offered to pay for a subscription to an online workout library. We accepted—it was the kind of encouragement I needed to begin incorporating regular, intentional exercise into my routine. Physically, I don’t notice a difference. Even energy-wise I wouldn’t say I feel better. But … I’m showing up.

That’s a win.

Three weeks ago, I started a program and I have consistently followed through with my intentions. A win.

This week, I increased the weight I’ve used for most of the exercises. A win.

Okay, so what’s the point? While out with our friends Tristen and Jackie last week, they talked about celebrating the wins—having one’s spiritual eyes open to see the wins.

For example:

When we moved here five years ago, my neighbour professed to be agnostic. And now, as I share with her about all the transitions in our life, I also share that I am secured to an anchor. Even when the chain connecting the proverbial ship to the anchor is long and the boat is tossed around by the waves and wind, it is secure. When I pause for a moment, she responds, while pointing up, that my anchor is God.

That’s a win.

A friend who is an atheist asks me to pray for her. That’s a win.

A friend whom Rich casually knows through paddleball wants to meet up for drinks in the evening and is doing what he can to convince a different friend of his to rent us his house in Guzmán because he wants us to stay here. A win.

Tomorrow we will celebrate our fourth annual thanksgiving with friends from town who do not profess to have a relationship with Jesus. But as part of our celebration, their kids always volunteer to read Scripture and give thanks to God. A win.

Keeping these things in mind, we are reminded that it is not our job to save anyone. Only to be salt and light, using every opportunity the Spirit prompts us to engage in, to invite others to know him too.