Use It or Lose It (and Maybe Laugh While You Cry About It)

“Use it or lose it.”

That phrase haunted me in the weight room like a sweaty ghost. Coaches would shout it while we bench-pressed our body weight and tried not to pass out. Language professors muttered it like a curse as we butchered ancient Greek. My piano teacher said it with a smile that somehow felt like a threat. And you know what? They were all right. Use it… or wave it goodbye as it packs its bags and heads for the hills.

I haven’t used it. And friends, I’ve nearly lost it.

These days, I write notes to folks in the congregation. Some are invitations to church events. Others are little “thinking of you” cards. And then there’s my favorite category: “I know where you sit, and I haven’t seen you sitting there lately.” I wrote a whole stack of those this week. If you want to dodge your preacher’s attendance radar, just switch pews every Sunday like a liturgical ninja. I’ll be baffled for weeks.

But here’s the kicker—my handwriting has gone full toddler. For every note I finished, I tossed two in the trash because they looked like ransom letters written by a raccoon. My cursive has officially filed for retirement.

Back in the day, learning cursive in third grade was a rite of passage. It was like joining a secret society. Suddenly, you could decode the mysterious adult scribbles on birthday cards and grocery lists. We spent hours crafting those elegant loops and swirls like we were training to be 18th-century poets.

Now? Third graders are learning to type before they can tie their shoes. Cursive is going the way of the floppy disk and dial-up internet. Kids today might never know the thrill of writing a capital “Q” that looks like a fancy number 2.

Tragic.

I’m guilty of abandoning pen and paper. My cursive is now somewhere between “ancient ruins” and “doctor’s prescription.” I tried writing “blessings” and ended up with something that looked like “blessingshzz.” I don’t even know what language that is.

So where in your life has “use it or lose it” come back to bite you?

There are skills that need daily reps. And there are disciplines that need daily practice. Love, for example, isn’t just a feeling—it’s a full-contact sport. If you think you’ve “fallen out of love,” good news: you can fall back in. Just wear a helmet.

Patience? Practice it. Compassion? Flex it. Forgiveness? Stretch it out like you’re warming up for emotional yoga. These things don’t just happen—they’re spiritual muscle groups, and if you don’t work them out, they get flabby.

Even your faith needs practice. So find a church on Sunday. We’ll all be there, spiritually bench-pressing our doubts and doing cardio with our convictions. And if your handwriting’s as bad as mine, don’t worry—we’ve got printed bulletins and grace in abundance.