As I shared my excitement over a new
diet plan ahem lifestyle change I was reading about, a friend asked if I wanted encouragement or her honest opinion. I chose option B, and she proceeded to remind me of things I already know.
God created this body of mine and purposed it for service, not vanity.
My darling love thinks I’m beautiful and isn’t concerned about a little extra chunk I’ve gained.
The root of my problem isn’t my thighs or the extra slice of pizza, but rather the way my brain processes what it sees in the mirror.
My birthday week celebration started on Saturday and carried on through last night. My friends and family wanted to celebrate having me in their lives. From hot dogs to steak dinners to bologna sandwiches to chips and salsa, the celebrations varied as much as the relationships.
The common thread amongst each of these gatherings was love for me. Okay, okay. Food was a key piece to these celebrations. Food is a predominant character in the story of my life, and I’m not even sad about it.
The day before my birthday, Jay surprised me with the birthday gift he’d made for me. He’d shut the bedroom door but moved my reading lamp just inside to spotlight his hard work.
Up until the first of the year, I had my race medals on display at work. When I moved across the hall to a shared office, I boxed them up and brought them home. Instead of hiding my light under a basket, my darling wants me to be able to see and celebrate my accomplishments every day.
A lot of what I’ve been reading lately seems to be matching up in the too-perfect-to-be-coincidence kinda way. I am a child of God. I am a jar of clay for His service. The overall impression I’m getting is that I’m being called to a revolutionary way of approaching diet and exercise.
Eat healthy, without concern for weight gain or loss.
For a woman who’s spent the past decade on the yo-yo of dieting, this is some extreme stuff. Simple, but oh so difficult.
One of the verses Jay chose for my medal holder is the familiar Philippians 4:13
13 For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.
The verses prior speak to the contentment Paul found in his Savior. I want that contentment. I want to be so comfortable in my own skin I treat myself well, which includes loving my body as it is and also filling it with healthy fuels.
I’m too old to pursue the vanity of weight loss.
I’m too old to eat crap and expect my body to run properly.
I’m too young to believe that nothing will change.
I feel like I’ve just walked out on a ledge here people. Only 2 days into age 36 and I’ve already encountered some obstacles. I can’t do this on my own. I have to rely on God to refocus my brain and guide my paths.
Admittedly, I’m a bit nervous but also excited to proceed, but isn’t that how every great adventure starts?