Finding Freedom While Working Out

The trainer on today's exercise video said something profound. "It isn't just about the outside."

Now, I don't know her views on faith or the soul, but, hearing these words at the close of an intense workout, I took note.

Have you ever noticed that when you lose control in a particular area of your life, if you stop and look, you will notice little bits of compromises in a host of other areas?

Let's just say, as a hypothetical example, that a person loses control in the area of weight, food, and body image. Look around. I bet you can find similar compromises elsewhere: shortcuts at work, skimping on personal devotions, rote prayers, perfunctory interactions with others, procrastination in chores . . . the list could (hypothetically) go on for a long time.

What's wrong? Is the issue really weight gain?

I'm betting not.

I once read a book which talked about addiction as a "disordered worship." Anything which consumes our thoughts, our emotions, our waking hours, our energies, our resources, may easily morph into an addiction.

Addictions are serious business for anyone. We have a lot of centers in this country where a person can spend a lot of money to get rid of one. How do they do this?

Well, really, they don't. They just redirect that addiction toward a more culturally-acceptable end. You see, they've found that a void will never cure an addict. You can't just take away the substance; you have to replace it.

I believe strongly that Christians are poised to understand addictions more clearly than any secularist ever will. What is it about a person that allows them to "go off the deep end" about anything and prohibits them from ever finding a conservative center?

Worship.

Addiction is a disorder of worship.

God made us to worship Him, to revel in a relationship with Him that fills and satisfies as nothing else ever could. Do you get pleasure in food? Good. Thank Him for it, and realize it is only an hors d'oeuvre of the pleasure found in God. Do you find joy in exercise? Good. Revel in it and allow it to remind you of the abilities He has given you to mirror Him.

This is, I believe, why a loss of self-control in one area ricochets around a person's whole life. When we lose sight of the "why" and the "for" (both of which are found in our Lord), everything gets out of balance.

Which brings me back to the words of the trainer: "It isn't just about the outside."

Yes, I want to feel better by being in shape. But it isn't just the crunch or the sore muscles or the ability to reduce my waistline by a notch in my belt. It's about taking myself and my desires back in hand and offering them once again to the One who gave them.

I could swing from worshiping food to worshiping exercise. I could switch allegiances from eating what sounds good to eating only what will make me slim. But if I do, I'm not actually gaining anything. I'm just moving from one idol to another, and it would only be a matter of time before the second rings as false as the first.

Galatians reminds us, "It is for freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."

Slavery can take many forms, folks.

It can be a slavery to the appetite (whether that appetite is of the gut, of the eyes, of the flesh, etc.); it can also be a slavery to control.

I've had to learn that I don't have to live under a yoke of slavery to the appetite. Really. I don't have to. (Have you ever thought of a fast as an exercise of freedom?)

But, on the other hand, I have to remember that I haven't been set free from my appetites in order to be bound to a life of self-flagellation. God made food, and He made it good! If I forget that and get so caught up in my weight-loss goal that it gets in the way of the joy of God and of life and of others, I haven't actually gained anything but another false master.

Of course, there's the danger that I take my freedom flippantly and distort it into permission to do whatever I want. Galatians talks about that too. The thing is, that isn't really freedom. That's running back into the arms of my appetites and calling them freedom. It doesn't matter what I call them; they will still be my master. Where there is a master, there must be a slave.

So, what to do?

Realize that the only master who will not enslave us is the One who calls us his sons and daughters.

Then, I can fast or feast, and it will all be for the purpose of His joy living in me.

Now that's freedom, folks.

Real and Determined

I am several weeks into a new determination.

I am going to lose 26 lbs by April.

There was a point in my life that I didn't think I would ever have any difficulty with my weight or body image. If I noticed a couple extra pounds on the scale during the winter, I knew that I would have them worked off easily by mid-summer, with a tan on the side.

Then I hit college and all bets were off. I hit the Freshmen Ten (which I was grateful hadn't been the Freshman Fifteen in my case).

My sophomore year, I was prepping for black belt testing and a 5k with a friend, and I dare say that was the most in-shape I have ever been. I looked back at my freshman year as a near miss, calling it - not so affectionately - my "chubby year."

Well, my black belt and the 5k were under my belt (pardon the expression), and I found myself adrift. Without specific goals in mind, it was easy to miss the addition of a pound here and a pound there. I knew I needed to keep working out, but that starting falling down the priority list as other events came charging into my life.

I worked a year, then went back to school to finish my bachelor of arts and entered the craziest time in my life.

I was in a new place, undergoing the stress of getting to know new people (but I'll save the travails of a transfer student for another post perhaps), studying like never before, and holding down three jobs. A best friend lost her father. Another best friend got married.

But the next year was crazier. Thankfully, I was down to two jobs for a full senior year. I tackled my senior project and a field experience. I got engaged. Then there was graduation. Four weeks of working at summer camp. Going back to work. Planning a wedding. Moving home. Getting married.

All of which lands me right here. I finally had a chance to let my self-awareness catch up with myself, and I found that I am the heaviest I have ever been.

Now, at this point, any readers who know me personally are probably manifesting one of two reactions:

1. Some will roll their eyes and wonder why a little person like me is making such a fuss.
    Thankfully, I carry it well, I guess. I was shocked myself when I realized how out of hand this has gotten. In fact, it wasn't even a year ago that my then father-in-law-to-be told me to go eat five pounds of potatoes! I am small in stature and shoe size, but it is time to stop thickening. I am in general in good health, but my endurance and overall physical ability have suffered a lot in the past few years, and I speak from experience when I say that they both could be much, much better.

2. Some will say, "What is she talking about?!? She doesn't have 26 lbs to lose!"
    Don't worry; I'm not about to develop an eating disorder. (Besides, if I was going to, it would have happened a long time ago already.) Frankly, I believe I am currently in the healthiest frame of mind I have ever been in regard to all this. It took me a long time to get here. I used to spiral into bouts of despair and self-loathing (and I don't use those terms lightly) every time a family member would make a comment or a favorite skirt would no longer zip. I was immobilized by a deep hatred of what my body had become and I felt trapped into my life habits.
    But God gently revealed to me that I was despising His own creation when I looked in the mirror with scorn. He gave me a husband who refuses to see me as anything but exquisitely created. And He has given me a new grit, a new hope, a new perspective.

So why am I bringing all this up now?

Personally, I have had my fill of uber-skinny, ultra-ripped people saying, "I used to be chubby. Now look at me! You can look like this, too." It may be true, but it always leaves me wondering about all the people who tried to look like them and didn't get to make a DVD but instead ended up heavier than they began. (That's my critical-thinking, scientific-method frame of mind coming out! My psych profs would be so proud!)

So, let's be real. You've read my goal. I might make it. I might not.

If I don't, you'll probably be reading a post in three months about handling unmet goals and resetting for a new goal.

If I succeed, well, I don't know. I guess I'll still need another goal. After all, maintenance is the hardest part. But what I don't want is another message of "I could do it; why can't you?". I guess this is an invitation to walk beside me in this. Encouraging words are appreciated, especially if you honestly do notice a difference. But more than that, I hope you're encouraged, because we can all stop kidding ourselves and each other about being perfect. We've got a ways to go: physically, yes, but also spiritually, personally, professionally, academically, and a host of other ways. I am working on doing myself a favor and letting down the pretense. (It's awfully hard to look perfect and to work on improving myself at the same time.) I guess what I'm trying to encourage anyone reading this to do is to pay someone the ultimate compliment of being a real person with them. If they're a friend worth having, they'll recognize the sacrifice on your part and be so thankful to be let in to the person you actually are. And you might just have freed them enough to pay back the compliment.

One final thing: I know what I said about new year resolutions, and how I don't like them, and I know that this new goal of mine is suspiciously close to a recent changing of the year, but really, I'm no fool. Who wants to start watching calories over Thanksgiving and Christmas???

A Blogger's Reflections

My Muse must be on a long vacation.

I knew this point would come. Maybe that's why I initially resisted the idea of blogging. Because, at some point in time, I knew, I would come to the realization that I probably don't have anything worth saying that hasn't already been said.

Someone very wise once wrote, "I rarely have an original thought." (I wish I could remember who thought of that, but I can't. How ironic!)

Think of it: in this world today, there are, quite literally, thousands upon thousands of people clamoring to be heard. They blog, vlog, tweet, facebook, and youtube their opinions on any subject you could imagine.

Then there are the good writers who actually say something through their chosen media venue, and some of these get published in journals, magazines, books, webzines, and on and on.

I don't claim to write only original thoughts. I don't even think I write mostly original thoughts. Most of my thoughts are the result of hours of reading, listening, and conversation. If I'm lucky, I might have an unique slant on them.

But do I want to be another voice in the din that already encompasses our planet? I might have a couple good things to say, but are they worth adding to the noise?

Because, if I'm only making more noise, it isn't worthwhile.

Marriage

Girls, (well, ok, guys too!) if you have any say in the matter, marry your best friend.

I highly recommend it.

A New Year

Why is December 31 the last day of the year?

I figured that there was some sort of celestial occurrence which made the ancients deem it right and proper to divide the old year of today from the new year of tomorrow. Well, according to my brief research on Wikipedia, there isn't. We celebrate a new year on January 1 because that is when the Gregorian calendar chose to have us celebrate it.

Which leads into my next question: why is this a big deal?

I understand that it's an opportunity for new beginnings, a chance to leave last year's troubles and foibles behind, blah blah blah. But we all know that our resolutions aren't likely to last past March, and that the new year may have just as many troubles as the last one (and maybe more).

It is good for one thing though. No matter how randomly it may have been plopped into our calendar, the turning of the year inspires a reflective spirit, one that often gets trampled in the usual hustle of life.

For example, the calendar says that another year of my life has passed; have I grown spiritually as well as chronologically? Am I another year more mature, or have I squandered every opportunity for growth this past year? Did I do anything this year that will matter in the next year or the one after that or the one after that? Am I looking more like Christ than I did at this time last year? And more importantly, what am I currently doing that will create greater maturity and growth in me by this time next year?

May the coming year hold great things for you, pleasures as well as opportunities for growth. May you fully enjoy the sweet times and rise to meet the challenging ones. May you find yourself another year wiser as well as another year older.

Not a Good Christian Girl Anymore

When I first considered starting a blog (in the spring of 2012), that's what I thought I would name it. Not as a jab at my Christian heritage or a rebellion against the Christian faith but as a chronicle of my struggle to leave behind acting like a Christian and start being like Christ.

"Many of us don't want to be led by the Holy Spirit. . . . Many of us don't want to be led by anyone other than ourselves." "If you say you want the Holy Spirit, you must first honestly ask yourself if you want to do His will" (from Forgotten God, by Francis Chan, pp. 50, 51).

I ask God for His wisdom. I beg for it. I need it now and in the life to which He is calling me.

I ask Him to move in me, that His Holy Spirit would fill me and take hold of me.

Then I turn around and do it all myself.

After all, I know what the church expects. I know what modern, American Christianity expects. If I let Him do it, He might do it wrong! It might look weird when He gets finished with it, and that would be embarrassing.

I slap God's hands away from my life and my affairs, say, "I'll handle this," and bustle off with a nod of my head.

Then it falls apart and I run back, dump it in His lap, and ask Him through my groans and tears to make it all work.

But, oh, when will I learn? If I would leave it with Him from the first, it wouldn't be broken . . . and if it looked broken in His hands (and I left it there still), I could trust Him to make it all right.

Oh! the peace of mind I sell for my "right" to have things my way!

But why do I want the Holy Spirit? Am I asking like Simon the Magician, trying to buy Him for myself (p. 84)?

Is this an effort to be "Christian cool," one of those people to whom others look up? Is it some sort of Christian club membership to me? I've always wanted to be part of that elusive inner circle, whatever the context. Is that all this desire has been?

I know that at least part of the desire comes with my life calling. I'm totally unequipped. I feel like I'm play-acting and it's only a matter of time before I'm discovered, like the Holy Spirit is my only chance at "legitimacy."

But, if God has called, isn't that legitimate enough?
When do I stop seeking my nod of approval from the world - even the "Christian" world?
When will God be enough?

Maybe when I'm done following rules and am ready to pursue a whole different way of life.
Maybe when I'm done looking good and am ready to be made good.
Maybe when I'm done focusing on myself and am ready to follow Him.

Maybe when I'm done being a good Christian girl.

Self-Talk

This morning, I was leaning over, looking through my bottom cupboards for a tupperware, when the cereal box on the counter above me tipped over and rained its contents upon my head. I've sat in a waterfall, and now I've been under a cereal-fall, I guess.

But, as Honey Nut Cheerios poured forth upon my head, I realized in a single moment that I had a decision before me:
I could either be angry at the inanimate box for maliciously making a mess for me first thing in the morning,
OR
I could laugh at myself, standing there in my bathrobe with little cereal rounds plinking on the kitchen linoleum.

It reminded me of a time last week when my husband and I were in the midst of a misunderstanding and the options seemed laid before me in a similar manner - a moment when the question crystallized:
Am I going to make myself vulnerable and tell him what I'm thinking and feeling in a bid for reconciliation,
OR
Am I going to play the dramatic, wounded heroine who bears her injuries silently (albeit sullenly)?

It's hard, in a world so me-centered, to consciously push myself to the side. Yet, invariably, it's better, at least in the end.

When the idea for this blog post started to percolate in my mind, I thought it was going to be culture-directed . . . addressing the ills of the self-esteem movement, going after the poor psychology of pop-culture psychology.

But that's not the real issue.

The real issue is that I am desperately wicked.

Not flawed.

Flawed sounds nicer, but it points the finger in the wrong direction.

Think about it: if you buy a product that is flawed, whom do you blame? The manufacturer, of course. You're not going to blame the product for being made in error; you're going to take it back to the store or write the company and ask for a refund (or just complain and not do anything about it, but that's a topic for another time).

If I am flawed, then God gets the blame for making me this way. But I know that everything He makes is good, so His workmanship can't be the problem.

There's another word, not as nice as "flawed," that sheds some light on the issue.

"Sin."

Sin isn't a popular word today. In fact, I may have just gotten branded as part of the radical right for using it. But give me a second; acknowledging sin may be the kindest thing we can do for ourselves and each other.

Consider the current concept of self. We live in a day when teachers are not allowed to reprimand students or use red ink because of the harmful psychological effects it might pose. Spanking is going out of vogue as the idea of shaping and molding children gets pushed to the out-of-date column. We are told to accept people for who they are, to allow the free expression of individuality, and to affirm each person's unique bent rather than to suggest that they might be wrong or in need of change. God made us like this, we are told; appreciate it!

But, what if we are not flawed, and God didn't make us like this? What if we are sinful?

If we are sinful, we can be forgiven.
If we are sinful, we can learn to live differently.
If we are sinful, we can learn how to draw near to a holy God.
If we are sinful, we are not without hope.

I am sinful. I sin. But because I know I sin, I can ask forgiveness.

(Who asks forgiveness for sin they haven't committed?)

The most gracious (in the truest sense of the word, that is, filled with grace), hope-filled, loving thing we can do for ourselves and others is to admit that we sin, that we are in the wrong, but that God has made provision for us through Christ.
And because of all this,
we
can
change.

That's what I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving.