What if I can't do this anymore?

Fearing loss and limitations

What are you most afraid of losing the ability to do?

Every time I go on vacation and miss a Sunday, upon return, at some point I have this moment of panic that my mind will no longer memorize sermons. When the rhythm and practice of doing this every week is broken up, even by one Sunday off, it feels as if I’ve atrophied that part of my brain. I ask myself, “What if I can’t do this anymore?” I go through my normal steps, deliver the sermon, and all goes fine. But the fear is still there every single time I have a week off.

The same thing happens with running. Every time I sign up for a race, and step out onto the street for the first few miles, I ask myself, “What if I can’t do this anymore?” “What if I’ve run my last marathon?” And then, I just keep going and my body remembers ever so slowly that this is possible.

The same thing happens with a book. Yes, I’ve written and published two books. But there is a third open right now on my computer. It needs to be written. And I’m sitting here (procrastinating by writing this) and thinking, “What if I can’t do this anymore?”

I am sure that later today or tomorrow or next week I’ll start putting words down on the page, and the book will begin to take shape. My confidence will return. And the book will be written.

The struggle exists because in all three cases, I know that someday I won’t be able to do these things. There will come a time when I run my last marathon, preach my last sermon, write my last book. As human beings we have limitations. Our minds fade. Our bodies deteriorate. We don’t live forever on this earth, and often our final years look very different from the rest.

Approaching such limitations is scary for people. We don’t like giving up something we’ve done for years and years. It’s hard to hear, “You can’t climb on ladders anymore,” or “You really shouldn’t be driving anymore,” or “You really shouldn’t be living on your anymore. You need help.”

We love being self-sufficient, or at least having the appearance of being self-sufficient. When we face limitations, we feel like failures.

But I think we need to call a thing what it is. When we are no longer able to do something we’ve always done, we experience grief. And if we can avoid that grief by pretending the limitation doesn’t exist, we will…and we do.

It’s no surprise that elite athletes like Michael Jordan, Tom Brady, or Simone Biles have struggled with retirement decisions.

Others like Mariano Rivera, Kobe Bryant, or currently John Cena have embarked on farewell tours as a way to savor the final moments. This is often described as leaving “on your own terms.” Having control over the limitation and choosing to step away before you are forced to do so.

I suppose I could do this for final marathon or book or even sermon. But I have no idea when those things will be. Honestly, I hope all of those finals are 20 or 30 years away.

Perhaps it is easier to handle the limitation when we control it with a farewell tour, but that is often not in our power. But sometimes injury has other plans. I remember when Kirby Puckett had his final at bat and was hit in the head by a pitch. He never played again. And he had at least five more years in him.

Sometimes injury prevents such farewells and control. But there is no farewell tour for the last time you climb a ladder or drive a car.

So, how do we handle the limitation when it comes at us and we are not ready for it?

I think two things are important for this.

One, holding everything lightly. Let us not over-invest our identity in anything that won’t last forever. Career, hobby, independence. These are all things that can come to an end.

Two, being grateful for every opportunity. Take a moment to thank God the next time you do something that seems mundane. There will be a last time you mow the lawn or walk the dog. There will be a last time you grill hamburgers or go to the grocery store.

Don’t take the little things for granted. It might help with the big things.

What are you most afraid of losing the ability to do?

Andy