Wednesday, February 16, 2011


Ok. It's time to get real. Again.

Where shall I begin?

I'd better just say it. I have reached the old level of unhealth. Over the last year I have allowed my lack of resolve and apethitic laziness to rein in my evidenced in snug jeans and the gasping and panting that occurs when I exhert myself in anyway.

Brutal. All the fruit of my hard work a few years back. Gone.

This is the part where I begin to rationalize my failure with exaggerated excuses. I say, "I was pregnant for the better part of one year and then I was nursing and sleep deprived for another." After last fall, I was able to add yet another medically documented pitfall to the list. "I didn't move for a month, and now my back hurts when I do too much. My knee goes numb everytime I start to walk."

blah blah blah

A few weeks ago, I started reading "Made to Crave".

It got a little personal in terms of admitting my weaknesses, so I was happy to be distracted by Priscilla Shirer's "Jonah". The first couple pages really set the tone for "receiving God's interruptions" as divine appointments and opportunities for obedience. Immediately, I began to wonder if I would get anything out of this study. "Well, I certainly don't struggle with rebellion and disobedience." I soothed myself with oblivious pride.

I asked the Lord. "Do I? I don't really, do I?"

long pause.

I asked the Lord, "I don't want to be prideful. Show me where I'm rebelling."

long pause.

two-word whisper: "Your health."

Rebellion? Um. I prefer words like: struggle, weakness, failure, will-power, discipline, emotions, determination. I am a victim here. Not a rebel.

The Lord patiently and gently guided my thoughts.

I know what the Lord desires for my "temple" or "vessel". I have read scripture and books and taken classes and watched videos and been in support groups.

I can do this. On a couple occasions, I have lost substantial weight and felt great in so many ways. Last month, I had two really good weeks of walking and eating sensibly and one morning, I just said, "No. I don't want to do this," and then I ate a big bowl of cereal and sat on my rear.

If I know the right and good thing to do and do not do it...I have rebellion in my heart.

Not good. Not good at all.

Dang it.

It is so much easier to be a victim. Or even just a sinner who struggles with gluttony or slothfulness. But to refer to my behavior as rebellion against God somehow takes it to a painfully new level.

So that "Father - daughter" conversation happened a week or so ago. I tried to pray and fast. That lasted about 5 hours. I knew I should repent and tell my family and perhaps a couple friends, but I did not want to. I did not want to. What is that? My new favorite sentence??

Yesterday's weather was warm and muggy. I faced the frightening notion that I will soon be unable to hide in a hoodie. As I thumbed through my calendar, I realized that I am scheduled to turn 40 in exactly 6 months. I wondered, "What will get my attention?" "What will motivate me?" (I'm searching for something other than pleasing the One True and Just God????)

Gee, I'm a loser.

So today, I open my email, and there is a summons by Philip's company for a health screening. They wish to weigh me, measure my body mass, check my blood pressure, and cholesterol, and blood sugar. Then "counsel" me on strategies to improve my health. Fabulous.

Tonight, I confessed my rebellion to my husband. He compassionately agreed that he "needed to get his heart right too". We have enjoyed the benefits of unconditional love and affection. Now it is time to activate a bit of tough love and truthful spurring toward greatness.

And now I've been absolutely honest here in bloggerville. I am stuggling. I need prayer. I am a rebel. I don't want to be anymore. I want to be more. More active. More fit. More energetic. More righteous. More pleasing to my Maker.

The end.

errr....(for like the millionth time) The Beginning.