Transforming Lives: When Resistance Becomes Refinement

Yesterday, I spent about thirty minutes doing something that might seem rather insignificant: I trained my hands. After approximately forty-five years of lifting weights, exercise is certainly nothing new to me, but lately I have become increasingly interested in maintaining and improving my grip strength. My hands have always been strong, and as I get older, I would like to keep them that way.

Part of yesterday's workout involved holding 35-pound blocks that were rough enough that I eventually put on a pair of workout gloves. By the time I finished, my hands and forearms were exhausted, my hands had swollen considerably, and removing those gloves became something of a workout itself. As I looked at them afterward, however, I began thinking about why having strong hands has always mattered so much to me. The answer reaches much further back than yesterday's workout.

I began lifting weights as a young man, and what started decades ago was about far more than building muscle. I grew up with a father who was a violent alcoholic. In an environment where violence could become a reality, physical strength represented something important to me: safety. I wanted to be strong enough to protect myself, and eventually I wanted to know that I was strong enough to protect others. Somewhere along the way, strength became intertwined with security in my mind.

Forty-five years later, I am still lifting.

But I am learning that there is more than one way for a man to be strong.

When Strength Becomes Aggression

Anyone who knows me particularly well knows that I am not naturally soft-spoken. I have a booming voice, a strong personality, and a tone that sometimes arrives before I realize I packed it for the trip. 🤣 Several years ago, I asked my mother a simple question: "Mom, if you had to describe me in one word, what would it be?"

She didn't hesitate.

"Aggressive."

Thanks, Mom.

Unfortunately, she wasn't wrong.

Aggression itself is not always inappropriate. There are circumstances in which a man should be willing to confront danger, defend someone who cannot defend himself, speak forcefully against wrongdoing, or refuse to retreat simply because doing what is right has become uncomfortable. Scripture is filled with men who demonstrated tremendous courage when circumstances demanded it.

The problem comes when we begin treating every circumstance as though it demands the same response.

Solomon wrote:

“He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.” (Proverbs 16:32, KJV)

That verse presents a definition of strength that is considerably more difficult to measure in a gym. A man may possess the physical strength to overpower another person and still lack the strength necessary to control himself. He may be capable of winning an argument while destroying a relationship. He may intimidate everyone in the room while remaining completely unable to govern the anger inside of him.

According to Solomon, the greater demonstration of strength is not merely possessing power. It is possessing power under control.

For someone like me, that lesson has taken a while.

When the Old Instincts Return

Recently, I found myself in an environment where tensions began rising. Another person's frustration and aggression started affecting the atmosphere around us. Interestingly, none of it was directed toward me, but as the tension continued escalating, I could feel my own response beginning to change.

There is an instinct buried deeply inside of me that I understand much better today than I did years ago. When an environment begins feeling threatening or volatile, something starts telling me that there are two choices: fight or flee. And if you have read this far, you probably don't need three guesses to determine which option has historically been my preference.

I spoke up. My own aggression began surfacing, and for a moment I was prepared to meet escalating aggression with even greater aggression. Fortunately, the situation was addressed before either of us had an opportunity to make it worse. The temperature came down, cooler heads prevailed, and what happened afterward became far more important to me than what happened during those few tense moments.

Later, I had an opportunity to speak privately with the other person. There was no shouting. There was no competition to determine who could dominate the conversation. Instead, two men talked about what had happened, how the atmosphere had affected the people around us, and what we could learn from it.

Something that could have ended in confrontation ended in connection.

I walked away from that conversation thinking about the man I was several years ago. I cannot say with certainty exactly what he would have done in the same situation, but I know him well enough to recognize that there is a good possibility the ending would have been different.

That realization matters to me because transformation is difficult to see while it is happening.

Transformation Is Usually Incremental

Two weeks ago, we began examining the philosophy behind Relentless Coaching & Consulting:

Teaching Truth. Igniting Purpose. Transforming Lives.

We started with a mirror and the realization that God's Word must be allowed to correct whatever we believe about ourselves that is not true. Last week, we considered what happens next: truth was never intended merely to correct our thinking. God's truth should change the direction of our lives. We discovered that truth renews the way we think, renewed thinking changes the way we understand our purpose, and purpose begins directing our actions.

Paul described that process:

“And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.” (Romans 12:2, KJV)

We have returned to this verse throughout this series for a reason. Paul connects transformation to renewal. God changes the way we think, and as our thinking is brought increasingly into agreement with His truth, the effects eventually begin appearing in the way we live.

But transformation should not be confused with instantaneous perfection.

A transformed man may still feel anger. He may still recognize the old impulse to retaliate. He may still feel fear, pride, lust, bitterness, selfishness, jealousy, or any number of desires that have accompanied him for years. Sanctification does not mean that every old instinct suddenly disappears. It means that through the work of God and the renewing of our minds through His Word, those instincts no longer have to control what happens next.

Transformation doesn't mean the old instincts never speak again. It means they no longer get the final word.

That distinction has become increasingly important to me.

Strength Requires Repetition

There is a reason I have spent forty-five years lifting weights rather than forty-five minutes.

Physical strength develops through resistance. A muscle is placed under a load that challenges its present capacity. The body responds. Given proper recovery, nutrition, and repeated training, it adapts. What was once difficult eventually becomes manageable, and then greater resistance is required if growth is going to continue.

Spiritual transformation is obviously more than an exercise program, but there is something about that process that I find instructive. We often want God to remove every difficult impulse, temptation, weakness, and character defect immediately. Yet many of the moments we would prefer to avoid become opportunities to practice what His Word has been teaching us.

James wrote:

“But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed.” (James 1:22–25, KJV)

There is our mirror again.

The first article focused on looking into that mirror and allowing God's Word to tell us the truth. The second reminded us that James does not stop with hearing. We must become doers of the work. Now we arrive at what happens when that process continues.

We practice the truth.

We fail at times. We repent. We return to the truth. We practice it again. And over time, responses that once seemed impossible begin becoming possible—not because we have suddenly become extraordinary people, but because God is patiently changing ordinary people who continue submitting themselves to His Word.

Transformation is rarely spectacular in the moment. Sometimes it looks like nothing more impressive than a conversation that did not become a fight.

But that conversation matters.

These Hands Still Need Strengthening

So I will continue training my hands.

I want them strong enough to carry the weight that life may require me to carry. I want them strong enough to work, to build, to lift, and to protect. If someone I love ever needs my physical strength, I hope these hands remain capable of providing it.

But those are not the only things I need these hands to be capable of doing.

These hands also need to serve someone who cannot repay me. They need to reach toward people rather than constantly pushing them away. They need to comfort someone who is hurting and help lift someone who has fallen. They need to remain open when forgiveness is harder than retaliation. They need to be gentle enough to hold the people I love without allowing the strength intended to protect them to become something that wounds them instead.

And there will still be moments when these hands need to fight. There are things worth defending, people worth protecting, principles worth standing for, and circumstances in which passivity should never masquerade as gentleness. Wisdom is not the elimination of strength. It is learning when that strength should be exercised and when it should be restrained.

Perhaps that is why Solomon's words strike me differently today:

“He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.” (Proverbs 16:32, KJV)

I have spent most of my life trying to keep my body strong.

At this stage of my life, I am increasingly interested in becoming the kind of man who knows what his strength is for.

Transforming Lives

That brings us to the final words of our philosophy.

Teaching Truth means allowing God's Word to correct what we believe.

Igniting Purpose means allowing that truth to redirect why and how we live.

Transforming Lives is what begins happening when God's truth is repeatedly practiced until the man living it begins to change.

I am not finished. There are still moments when my voice is too loud, my tone is too sharp, my patience is too short, and aggression arrives before wisdom has finished putting on its shoes. There are still old instincts that speak much louder than I would like them to speak.

But they don't have to get the final word.

Yesterday, I looked at a pair of workout gloves that had become difficult to remove because I had spent thirty minutes trying to make my hands stronger. Sitting beside them was my Bible, and together they reminded me that I need more than one kind of strength.

I need hands strong enough to protect, but gentle enough to comfort. Strong enough to confront, but disciplined enough to restrain. Strong enough to hold on when perseverance is required, but wise enough to let go when forgiveness demands it. Strong enough to lift weight from the ground, but compassionate enough to help carry someone else's burden.

And when I cannot determine which kind of strength the moment requires, these same hands need to know how to fold in prayer.

Perhaps transformation is not best measured by how different we claim to be.

Perhaps it is measured in those moments when life applies pressure, the old man responds exactly as we expected him to—and then, because truth has renewed our thinking and purpose has redirected our actions, we choose to do something different.

That is the transformation I want to continue experiencing.

And those are the hands I want to keep strengthening.

Teaching Truth. Igniting Purpose. Transforming Lives.