Do You Even Lift? Training Your Body Without Worshiping It

A follow-up to the previously published article: “Athletes and Body Dysmorphia”

There is a big difference between taking care of your body and turning it into a personal shrine. In the world of athletics, it is easy for that line to get blurry. One day you are training with discipline and balance. The next, your sense of peace depends entirely on whether you hit your macros or closed your rings.

In a previously published article, I wrote about body dysmorphia (Jan. 2024) and how the pressure to perform can distort how athletes see themselves. This article is not about dysmorphia in the clinical sense. It is about the more common and often overlooked temptation to worship your body without realizing it. You may not hate what you see in the mirror. You may even like it a lot. That does not mean your heart is in a healthy place.

When your routine becomes rigid, when your rest feels sinful, and when your identity depends on your reflection or performance, it is no longer just about training. It is about control. It is about image. And sometimes, it becomes about glory—but not the kind that belongs to God.

Why You Train Matters

If your motivation for training is rooted in stewardship, competitive goals, or a desire to stay strong and healthy, that is a good thing. But if you are constantly chasing a version of yourself that you will finally approve of, then something is off. If your body must always be better, leaner, faster, or stronger in order for you to feel okay, then you have placed a moving target where your peace should be.

It is not wrong to care about your physique or want to perform at your best. What matters is whether those goals are tools or idols. Are they serving your calling? Or are they defining your worth?

Training Can Be Worship, But Your Body Is Not Your God

Scripture reminds us in 1 Corinthians 6:19 that our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. But even temples were never meant to be worshiped. They were created to host the presence of God. When you treat your body like a trophy that earns you value, you shift the focus away from the Giver and onto the gift.

In Romans 12:1, Paul urges believers to offer their bodies as living sacrifices. That means you use your strength, your training, and your discipline for a greater purpose. It does not mean your body becomes your identity. And it certainly does not mean your worth rises and falls with your body fat percentage or vertical jump.

Signs That Something Needs to Shift

When a missed workout ruins your entire day, something is off. When you plan your life around your gym schedule but cannot find time for rest, reflection, or worship, something is off. When you feel more anxious than peaceful about food, progress, or performance, something is off.

You were never meant to be your own god. You were not designed to carry the pressure of perfection. That weight will crush you eventually, even if it makes you look impressive in the meantime.

Keeping God at the Center of Your Discipline

There is absolutely room for high-level training in a faith-filled life. You can lift. You can track. You can chase PRs. But you must keep asking the harder questions.

Are you training for excellence or for control? Are you stewarding your body or obsessing over it? Are you giving God the glory or hoping people give it to you?

Every workout can be an offering. Every meal can be a moment of gratitude. Every season of growth can become a testimony—not of your willpower, but of God’s grace and provision.

Final Thoughts

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be strong. There is nothing wrong with enjoying the process of training, competing, or transforming your body. But there is something deeply wrong with letting those things define you. God created your body. He sees it as good. But He never asked you to idolize it.

So yes, go lift. Go train. Go compete. Go pursue excellence. But do it from a place of peace, not pressure. Do it with a spirit of surrender, not self-obsession. Do it knowing your value does not change based on your shape, size, or stat line.

You were never called to be perfect. You were called to be faithful.