Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Weight . . . no Wait

Weight.  What an UGLY word for those of us who struggle day in and day out to maintain or in my case, achieve, an acceptable BMI. 

Picture this. . . three or four days a week of "30 Day Shred" - killer! Two or three days of recumbent bike - boring!  Counting and tracking Weight Watchers points until my pencil is worn down to a nub - relentless agony!  What's worse?  Committed exercise and diet changes since mid-November has earned me a 4 pound gain.  You heard that right - GAIN!  Now, to be honest I did have a 3 week excessively indulgent period over Christmas.  But you would think days upon days of Jillian Michels would balance that out.

As you can guess, there is more going on here than just exercise and diet changes.  For me, food has always been a coping mechanism, a prop.  I was one of those tween girls that had to shop in the Pretty Plus department where designers somehow forgot to make things cute.  You know, gingham and bows instead of Andy Gibb T-shirts and Dallas Cowboy cheerleader skirts.  Didn't they know this "plus" girl was NOT cut out for pilgrim collars and seer sucker?  I wanted parachute pants!

Years go by and I develop into a svelte teenager mainly due to the hours upon hours on the basketball court and volleyball floor.  Even with the mounds of late-night Taco Bell and Slurpee's I was able to wear the same size as my tiny older sister.  Success!  Can you see the writing on the wall though?  School ends, sports involvement ends, Tiny Me ends.  Food is still my prop and best friend and it starts to show.

By now, using food or my control of it has become a habit.  I no longer NEED it to comfort me or turn to it for celebration or even mourning.  Now it is just plain ol' sin.  I hold onto that control of food.  I cherish it and covet it.  I keep it on a pretty little pedestal inside a secret closet.  It even has a name plate:

"Niki's Unwillingness to Surrender ALL to GOD"

So, I exercise and count my points.  I moan and groan about the lack of physical changes.  I tell all my friends and my husband how pitiful my generous backside really is.

But you know what I DON'T do? 

I don't give to the Lord.  I don't seek repentance for my ugly desire to control that part of my life.  I don't crawl on my face and hand the All-Forgiving God my cherished sin on a golden plate.
 
I don't.  I don't. I don't.

So do you know what the Holy Spirit is revealing to me? 

I'll WAIT.  I'll WAIT.  I'll WAIT.

I feel as if He is telling me through my frustrating lack of physical changes that He will WAIT to change my WEIGHT until I give it all up.  Everything.  He wants me to hand over the golden key to my secret closet where my disgusting control sits upon a nasty, dog-eared sofa. He demands it of me.

And, Praise Him above ALL things, He is so much more than my pitiful attempt at control.  I praise Him for who He is, what He has done, and what He will do.

No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.  Matthew 6:24