Destroying Aphrodite.

"Something is safe for us to maintain in our lives

only if it has really stopped being an idol.

That can happen only if we are

truly willing to live without it,

when we truly say from the heart, '

Because I have God, I can live without you.'

Sometimes, God seems to be killing us when he's actually saving us."

- Counterfeit gods by Timothy Keller

Most, if not all girls take some pride in their appearance. Conventionally pretty or not, females were made with the desire to be beautiful. Vanity becomes a problem when beauty and pride become central. Eating disorders, shopping addictions and insecurities manifest.

It was not until today that I realised, God was not only asking me to let go of my sport, but my security in fleshly things too- things I never thought were wrong. After all, which human being doesn't take some pride in his appearance?

I was at my church bookstore buying the last copy of Counterfeit Gods when at the counter, a parent of one of my sunday school kids came up to tell me, in a perfectly matter-of-fact manner, "Oh, you've put on weight, yea?" And I looked at her, momentarily stunned, and wondered if that tone of voice would have been more appropriate at commenting on the weather. I smiled. "Yes I have... I fractured something lately so have been unable to train." I said it after hesitating a little, not too defensively, yet, as if I had to have explanation for how I am now.

In the female world, commenting on somebody else's weight has many implications- there are typically undercurrents suggesting one's lack of control and one's inability to manage oneself. It is not a topic to bring up unless it goes in one direction-downwards. Yes, the female species is complex, indeed.

As I made my purchase of the book at the counter with this lady in front of me, I knew, God was testing me. What was my counterfeit god? Triathlon, my bike, and... Aphrodite.

It wasn't until then that I realised, I have always taken a lot of pride in how I projected myself. Aphrodite, is an earthen goddess- horses are sacred to her; Beauty, is my a false idol- my bike is paramount to me-for more reasons than meet the eye.

Just very recently, I finally found the physiotherapist I had been praying for. Out of so many contacts I had been given and I had spoken with, she is the only one who clearly understands this particular injury of mine. When she heard of my case through a friend's friend, she buzzed me and said, "How old are you?"

"23."

"Are you a runner and a biker?"

"Yes."

"Are you vegetarian?"

It was then that I knew she understood. The fracture of the inferior ramus at the site of insertion of the adductor magnus is a very rare sports injury, common only in a specific subgroup of athletes- the young female athlete with a past history of a poor diet, eating disorder, amenorrhea or all of the above. My history was classic.

"Oh, you must be surprised," she said. "That's because my research project was based on adductor tears and these type of fractures. Sure, I'd love to help."

Most physiotherapists have hardly even heard of this injury, much less encountered it. AL was the first one who knew what she was talking about, who understood with such depth the intricate relations of all the muscles, tendons and bones involved in this painfully slow-healing injury. She predicted my sites of pain even before I told her, understood exactly why I was hurting in both my legs even though I had hurt only one. She spent a long time with me. I had never seen anyone so meticulous before.

Our first session was not easy. A lot of my strength had left me. I had put on weight. I was tired of exercising in any way, because of the pain. Doing core exercises and pilates looked slow and effortless but was in fact, very tiring. As we went through rehab exercise after rehab exercise, I suddenly understood the humour in the whole thing: God had given me exactly what I had prayed for months ago, when I asked Him to teach me what it meant to work from a posture of rest. I wasn't moving from my spot, but it sure was a lot of hard work.

All this while, I realised, my appearance had been my counterfeit god, my source of security, something I knew the world could see. My training in triathlon was my counterfeit god, because it helped me control my weight, maintain my tan, and was a great conversation topic to boost my self-esteem. I never did core exercises because I didn't see the value of strengthening myself from the inside, since no one would see the results anyway. Running, swimming and biking and being constantly on the adrenalish rush-go was far more exciting. I didn't realise till today, how superficial my mindset has been, all this while, all these years.

Do you sometimes, in some ways, live for others too? For just, a brief moment of their applause?

In the same way, running around being involved in projects and ministries and being busy was also a false god in itself. I knew it was something the world could see. Like cardiovascular exercise, the spiritual endorphins made me feel good about myself. But I neglected my spiritual core, not taking enough time to study the bible in depth. After all, doing things has always been far more glamorous, a much easier way to gain praise and honour from men.

Who enjoys sitting in one place doing painful core exercises? Who likes to sit in one place studying the bible? Boring, isn't it, compared to being on stage performing an acrobatic act. I didn't realise, that I had always made myself my own god.

"Wai Jia, you know, one's cardiovascular activity must be matched with one's core strength. This was like a time-bomb inside of you. With your history, diet, weak core muscles, and scoliosis, this would have happened, sooner or later. It was a ticking time bomb. "

I know. My activity should have been matched with taking time to strengthen my spiritual core, too. And the time bomb blew because I had allowed training and Aphrodite to rival God's place in my life. That day, I compromised on my work ethic. The junior doctor said it was a public holiday and a sunday, hence I needn't show up at the hospital for my shift. But I knew, deep down, that I ought to have showed up. Why should I base my actions on other people's standards? I compromised on my work ethic that day because something else, something counterfeit, took priority that day. I wanted one last training session before my race. I relied on my own strength. I wanted to burn more calories. And I adjusted my bike seat higher than it should have been because someone said I would go faster.

Idolatry, insecurity, self-sufficiency. Foolishness. That's when the time bomb blew.

Hence, I got injured, spiritually and physically. It would have been sooner or later. I never knew I had scoliosis.

In the bible, there's a story about a man whose central prayer in his life was to have a son. When God finally did bless him with a son named Isaac and promised that he would have many descendants, He told him to kill Isaac. God told him to bring Isaac, the son he so dearly loved, up the mountain to kill him. And the man obeyed, because he trusted God. Just at the moment of slaughter, God intervened and Isaac was spared.

How can God be so masochistic. On the outside, it seems like He was being cruel. But really, He was dealing with the destructive idols in the man's life and teaching him to put his value and security in God alone, rather than in his son. Nothing on earth belongs to us, nothing.

A friend had jokingly asked me a week ago whether his wife could ride my bike since I was now injured. I laughed out loud, because surely he knew it was an almost $3000 gift, and almost brandnew. Days later, I wrote to him saying he could come anytime, because God was teaching me to cling loose, to let go.

As I walked out from my phyiotherapist's home, a tree with sinewy roots caught my eye. It reminded me of a dream and vision I had years ago, and served to remind me not to make physiotherapy, pilates or anything else for that matter, my new god.

I am learning, that it's time for me to go up the mountain and lay my Isaac down. I've to let triathlon go, have to accept there could be a possibility of me never biking with my biking buddies again or taking part in another race. I have to accept that I will inevitably gain some weight during this process and learn to have more compassion for myself and others. And I must realise, that I could possibly gain the weight and never lose it again. Would I be okay with that?

The pain at the fracture site lingers still. "Be patient Wai Jia, this sort of fracture takes a really long time to heal because it's very hard to immobilise that muscle. I understand it's painful."

My publisher says my next book, A Taste of Rainbow should be out by October, that's also when my self-imposed 100-day bike fast ends. May that healing (spiritual, physical and emotional) be wholly complete by then.

Meanwhile, I'm going up the mountain with my Isaacs. Aphrodite must be destroyed.

"We need to find a way to keep from clutching them too tightly,

of being enslaved to them...

As many have learned and later taught,

you don't realise God is all you need

until God is all you have."

-Timothy Keller

"I also want women to dress modestly,

with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes,

but with good deeds,

appropriate for women who profess to worship God. "

-1 Tim 2:9