I think comfortable is the great deceiver. It’s the thing that tells me that I’ve done enough. That the next thing isn’t necessary. That it’s time to “sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor.” Comfortable is a Jezebel that tempts me to take the easier path, the one that takes less effort and commitment, the one that requires less discipline. Comfortable tells me it’s time step aside and watch someone else live.

Comfortable is a lie, because comfortable is limiting, and it’s the beginning of the end.

I’m not ready for comfortable and I don’t plan on ever being ready for comfortable.

I was sick about ten days. I’ve had enough, so I stopped saying I was sick. Ana and I ran two miles yesterday then, later on, we went to the gym. I pushed each set until it burned, then pushed through that discomfort until I couldn’t bear to do one more rep, then I kept going until I couldn’t move the weight with proper form. I rested 30 seconds then did another set the same way. I did that for 25 minutes. We trained legs, the most demanding body part to train. It was anything but comfortable and I felt like a million bucks.

I don’t plan on walking out of any gym on any day without being soaked with sweat and looking like I gave it all. I want the result, but I also want that feeling of accomplishment after every rep, set, and workout. My time is worth too much to waste it doing less than 100%. It’s about self-respect.

I apply that same principle to everything I do, business, love, life. That includes my leisure time, my romantic time, my creative time, and my rest time. I’ve faced certain death many times, and it’s shaped my value of life. Life is far shorter than we think, and it’s fragile.

I want to spend the gift of time I have been given doing good things for myself, my family and others. I want to serve my maker. I want to leave more than a vial of ashes when God calls me home.

I believe that sitting on my ass watching life go by is not living. It’s quitting. Some swear that it’s comfortable like comfortable is a good thing.

But is it?