Exercising Our Faith

From the spot at the pulleys at my physical therapy facility, I watched transfixed as the woman made her way around the walking track. Her white hair was styled in a pixie cut, her face set in sheer determination. But it was her grass-green T-shirt that held my gaze. Across the back, large white block letters announced “Dedicated to Great Results.”

This lady and her spirit of resolve had the 7:00 a.m. slot like me. Easy for her, I’d think. She doesn’t suffer with my awful sciatica. Then one day I overheard some of the other patients talking: “Just look at her. She’s had cancer three times. It’s back real bad, but she keeps on going.”

A guy on the NuStep echoed my sentiments. “Why would you go through all these gyrations if you’re not going to live to reap the benefits?”

A week later, I was the one walking the track. When I passed the lady in green riding a stationary bike, I noticed her eyes sparkled. “You seem so much better today,” I called out.

“My tests came back!” she hollered. “Not one speck of cancer.”

Fellow patients and therapists gathered round, rejoicing at her news and her example. All those mornings she’d been working toward a future she wasn’t certain was hers. Exercising her faith. It was high time I did the same.