The perfect dieting storm has reared its ugly head during this 28-day-challenge.
I haven’t lost another pound since the original 11 I lost when I started. But I haven’t gained. I have lost inches and most importantly, I am free from the belief that there is any failing in my faith walk that changes the feelings that Jesus has for me. I am not losing.
Originally, when I wrote a Fat Girl’s Guide to Knowing Jesus, it was just the revelation that I truly believed that I was separated from Jesus because of my metabolism.
The list of things to do to make Him love me, to set me free from my earthly struggles was immense and intense.
Why do I do this?
What part of scripture do I NOT believe? I am continuing to lament the season in which I took on the belief I would never ever be able to please or appease God.
I will start over on Monday.
Opps… maybe next Monday?
Or the next.
Life always seems to be my greatest barrier to accomplishment.
But then, what’s the point of life?
And life is almost never easy. So I set out with a list of to-do’s that will finally do THE TRICK. This will be different then all the times before.
I used this example in my post yesterday, but today as I drove to another city for two speaking engagements I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Why would the God of the universe use the relationship of parent to convey His feelings for us if He didn’t mean it?
In the last month, I have had a number of trials. My autoimmune disease is in overload. My husband’s aunt died. I have had several trips out of town, which the organization of, in our household, resembles trying to juggle chainsaws… and a feral cat.
If I were to call my earthly father and tell him I was starting an elimination diet to try and clear up my hives, joint pain, and debilitating fatigue… and hopefully, lose weight, I can promise he would ask me questions about the safety and benefits. He wants health and peace for me.
Suppose two days later I called him after leaving a foster care hearing where we learned our long-term placement, a baby girl… will now begin transitioning home. My husband and I knew it was a possibility… but we are hysterical – crushed. We have been in court for nearly 4 hours. We are distraught and starving. We opt for a quick bite at a Mexican Restaurant. I order to the best of my ability, but my stomach and emotions are louder than my commitment to a minimalist diet at that moment.
When I report these things to my dad he offers nothing but compassion.
He is sad for me and with me.
Basically, I assume my dad is kinder and gentler with me than the creator of myself, husband, and foster daughter.
“Pay more attention to what is wanted, and less and less to what is unwanted. Look for the bright spots, there is always light shining somewhere.” Tracy Reidkind The Swing
The scenario above happened. And I counted it among my sins and failures and FULLY believed that our foster daughter’s fate was most likely subject to a wrathful God… because I ate chips and salsa.
Why the Cross?
Why the sacrifice?
I am DAUGHTER!
I am HIS GIRL!
He wants health and peace for me… and He is not mad.
He is not mad.
In the darkest of hours instead of trying to appease Him, why have I not fallen peacefully into His arms? My greatest progress in the pursuit of wellness has been the realization He is FOR ME. When I have slowed down to visit with Him as if on a phone call with my earthly dad, He is comforter encourager and my biggest fan.
When I stopped and asked Him, “Is this beneficial? Is this helpful? Is this something You believe will escalate my progress?”
I have been careful not to share my method this 28-days. The main reason is because I am not promoting a specific workout or eating plan. I am promoting a RELATIONSHIP with the Father.
Your Father, who knows you best.
Your Father, who knows your body, metabolism, and history.
Your Father, who is FOR YOU.
For your children.
For your marriage.
For your wholeness.
When I have gone to Him as Father He is gentle… it’s easy to hear Him. I embrace suggestions. I am easier on myself. I want He wants. He wants me to be well.
The stop, start, start-over relationship isn’t the relationship He intended for He and I. When trials come, which they will, He isn’t to be ignored. Instead of brushing my beliefs aside to have a glass of wine and chocolate after putting the kids to bed, He doesn’t stop championing me.
He has suggestions to sustain me and keep my eyes on Him.
Abba… never more than a breath away, He doesn’t leave me or forsake me. In the midst of a body gone haywire, I heard Him suggest a walk during piano lessons. If I am up before the littles He doesn’t bark at me to drop and give Him 100 penance push-ups… but “Hey love, how about stretching that shoulder and trying 200 kettle-bell swings?” When I go to Him and ask, “What’s up with the hives???” He instantly showed me a plan that I believe will keep me upright, instead of flat on my back where I used to believe His wrath had me to teach me some horrific lesson because I ate Cheetos.
This is not determined by the nonsense that befalls me.
The size of my pants.
My ability to be “perfect.”
He loves me and blesses and cares for me… because He is my Father.
Fall into His arms friends.
He has set us free… and we are free indeed.
May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami
1 Corinthians 10:23 Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial.
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