"Fill in the blank. 'If God really loved me, he would ______________.'"
My reply?
"If God really loved me he would fix my body."
I can't believe that God would ask me to write about this now since I am not even close to being "there" yet with this issue. But I felt in my heart that He said to begin to write about this and since this blog is called "Becoming" and it's not called "I'm already there and have it all together and know everything", I will go ahead and be obedient to the Lord and at least start with what I know so far. Oh, but where to begin?! It's such a long and personal and painful story. I suppose I can start with a question that has popped into my mind lately.
That question is: Is there a fundamental difference between people who need to lose "just a few pounds", say 20 or so, compared to those who are facing 60, 70, even a hundred-plus pounds that need to be shed?"
My hypothesis is (and remember hypotheses by definition retain the right to eventually be found wrong!) that yes, there is a very big difference between the two. But wherein lies the difference? Is it physiology? Genetics? Destiny? Did God call this decision long before we were born? Or is it our own attitude? Choice? Sin? Some self-fulfilling prophecy in belief or expectation? Or is it some odd and frustrating combination of all of the above?
How is it that there can be naturally thin people who can seemingly eat annnnything they want and not gain any weight and then there are some who struggle all their lives over weight issues?
Ever see a fat Greyhound?
Me either.
And it just doesn't seem fair to all the Labs of the world.
I have two Labs and I am convinced that if I slit open a 40 lb. bag of kibble and put it on the kitchen floor, those two dogs would consume the entire bag until they were laying belly up like swollen ticks. A well-read dog trainer I shared this with wholeheartedly agreed and told me that in one dog food study she'd read, they decided to take Labrador Retrievers OUT of the experiment because they seemed to posses insatiable and indiscriminate appetites! They could eat anything, anywhere, anytime. I could identify.
I know. We're not dogs. I get that. It's just something I've noticed. And honestly, part of me wonders if God really cares how fat I am or not. I know I am more than a number on a scale. I know that in the grand scheme of things, when we enter into God's glory and the pages of History are closed, that my weight is going to matter very little, even to me. And I know that there are wonderful people in my life right now who see the REAL me and not my struggle with "fatness". In the small group meeting where I'd filled in that blank above about God fixing my body, the response from my friends was overwhelmingly loving and good. In fact, I believe it was in the face of that love that I was able to decide to begin a lasting journey towards greater health, both inside and out. Good things came from that exposing that vulnerability and pain. I guess I am looking for more of that both for myself and for those who read this--to find the good things.
Years ago, my husband and I were teaching a 5 year old boys' Sunday School class. Well, you know how unedited children can be sometimes. . .One boy pointed to my body and said, "My parents say that people should exercise so that THAT doesn't happen to you!"
Deep breath.
A heartbeat.
Then my son, who was a member of the class, chimed in, "Well, maybe everybody else is just too skinny!"
My hero.
He didn't see "fat". He saw Mamma.
And I was grateful.
This child was delivered into the world at the hands of a very gifted and cautious and vigilant doctor who I believe saved his life at his birth. Hers were the first hands that ever touched his body and without her wisdom and swift action, I shudder to wonder if he would not have survived that day. His birth was traumatic and terrifying and as even the doctor herself described some years later, "a blur". Six years later, she delivered our daughter as well, which was a much less stressful event. The most difficult thing was getting the I.V.. My doctor even held my hands when the anesthesiologist did the spinal block. And I recovered beautifully after the delivery and I credit my doctor for so many blessings in these times. She was aces when it came to bringing my babies into the world.
And when the time of baby-making in my life came to a close, things shifted. It seemed to me that to my doctor, I was no longer a woman, I was my weight. It all revolved around my fatness. And no matter what good efforts of my own I had to report they were, in her exact words, "not good enough".
"I'm doing Weight Watchers online."
"Well, that's okay, but it's not good enough. You really should be eating a Mediterranean diet with whole grains, lean proteins....."
"I'm walking four days a week."
"Well, in order to lose weight you really need to be exercising for at least an hour a day, six days a week."
"Really? Because this walking four days a week has been the most I have committed to in my whole life and it fits into my schedule."
"Well, can you work out in the mornings before work?"
"I don't think so. I'm up at six and out the door with my son by seven and have him to daycare by 7:15 and then I have to drive over to the next town and be ready to clock in and work by 7:45. We open at 8 and have to be ready to go."
"Well, can't your boss let you start work a little late so you can work out?"
"Um...no. It doesn't work that way."
And so it went.
My relationship with my doctor began to feel like she was eagerly waiting, even expecting me to fail. To die. She actually seemed disappointed when I got good results on tests...."Well, you are not diabetic....yet." I would leave her office feeling doomed and hopeless. If the best I'd ever done so far was "not good enough", then why bother? Why even try? I honestly would rather die because she wasn't giving me much hope.
I chose to no longer live under that condemnation. I'd played host to hopelessness long enough. I found a new doctor.
Struggling with weight issues has made me look at some pretty tough things in my life. I always wondered why I have this battle in the first place. Despite all the good and wise things that I do, I have uttered the classic, "Why me?". And honestly, I had to admit that part of me was very angry at God. In preparing to write about this, I sat with Psalm 139 open and in my rawest moment I saw that it has the nerve to say, "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." And I thought, "REALLY?! This is YOUR idea, God?! I know you are a good God. I know you love me. I know you redeem our pain and logically I understand that you do not "cause" pain, but in my heart, I am just really really angry at you!"
And I'm tired. Will I have to fight this battle my whole time on earth? Will this always be so hard?
And I'm scared. What if I never make it? What if I never ever get there? What if I give up? What then? What if I fail?
I know I have a choice. I know I chose to try. I know I chose to eat. I know I chose to exercise. But why is the choice so incredibly difficult? Why me?
Why so many of us?
Please understand that I expose my anger at God in this way only because I truly do know that He is big enough and good enough to handle it. He will take this pain and redeem it. I know He will.
"O LORD, I say to you, 'You are my God." Hear, O LORD my cry for mercy. O Sovereign LORD, my strong deliverer, who shields my head in the day of battle--"
Psalm 140: 6-7 (NIV)
Hear my cry for mercy, oh God! I don't understand this pain and I wish God would just deliver me from this, but I'm going to hold on until He makes it all clear. Romans 12:2 says that we are transformed by the renewing of our minds. I ask for that today. A radical transformation.
I would like to think I am ready to make that transformation.
Here's something shocking: I have come to the realization that even before I ever lost a single pound and even if I never lose another pound, I am already, as-is, right this moment, GOOD ENOUGH.
The truth is that being fat stinks.
It is uncomfortable and and unhealthy and unhappy.
But it is NOT the most important thing about me.
There is a lot of good going on and a lot to celebrate. Miracles are happening and the soil is being turned over for great things to be planted and reaped. To date, I have shed 52 lbs. This is a good thing. At the same time, what I fear the most is that if I focus on that too much, I will lose the harvest of the greater work that is going on inside. I have witnessed a food idol be replaced by a fitness idol in someone's life and I don't want that to be me. I believe that God can use the past destruction of my life--even the destruction that I brought on myself--and cause good to come of it.
For me, this weight thing has just been an outward manifestation of an inward process of development. The ups and downs have paralleled what's going on deeper inside. Some time ago, a group called Teen Challenge visited our church. They call themselves the SOLUTION to the drug epidemic. All these brave souls came and shared their stories of pain and despair, years lost in the mire of drug and alcohol abuse. Many of them had lost everything including precious family relationships. At one point, they seemed hopeless but each one came to a decision in life to do the hard work of sobriety. And with a lot of discipline and a tremendous amount of connecting to God and his Word, they were in the process of transforming their lives! Instead of their former anger and despair and hopelessness, they were radiant and hopeful and humble. They were grateful to God and eager to learn more every day. Their doom had been dumped in exchange for the joy of redemption and a second chance. I sat there and sobbed as I realized that God was working a similar exchange in my life too. I realized that if God can work the miracles he was working in those brave people, He could do a great work in me as well.
Everybody has something. Some pain. A story. A wound. Some thorn in their side. Something they desperately wish would just go away. A supremely unwanted family legacy of sorts. I am sure you can think of your own thing right away. It might not be food or drugs, but maybe it's something else that has you trapped and feeling hopeless. The beauty is there is an awesome exchange available. The ultimate of upgrades.
"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the
brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the
prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in
Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of
righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.
They will rebuild ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations."
Isaiah 61:1-4 (NIV)
I pray that for you, whatever your "thing" is that you are finally at that place make that ultimate exchange. I pray that you can, maybe for the first time, taste Hope because this same God who has taken care of me will take care of you as well. (Philippians 4:19)
Blessings!
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