He used to walk into the gym like it was a stage. Mirrors, flexes, attention — his muscles weren’t just strength, they were identity.
Then God got his attention.
As his faith grew, something unexpected followed: intrusive thoughts. Accusations. Doubts about God that didn’t reflect his heart at all. They arrived uninvited and loud, leaving him confused and ashamed.
One afternoon, mid-workout, he finally said it out loud to another believer. “I love God, but my mind keeps attacking Him. I don’t know why.”
The response reframed everything. “You’re not broken. You’re in a battle. The flesh wars against the spirit. But Scripture says when you resist, the enemy must flee.”
That day, something shifted. His workouts stopped being about appearance. Every rep became resistance. Every push-up a declaration: I belong to Jesus. I resist what doesn’t come from Him.
The thoughts didn’t disappear overnight. But they lost their authority.
His body was no longer a trophy. It became a reminder that strength isn’t about perfection or silence in the mind — it’s about standing firm anyway. Faith wasn’t proven by the absence of attack, but by the decision to keep resisting and trusting God in the middle of it.
That, too, was just doing life.