God and Weight Loss: Get Skinny for Jesus

I love Jesus and I am on a diet for weight loss… constantly.  This is how me and my muffin top roll.

I want to be #skinny4jesus, even though that’s not what He asked of me.

I overheard this conversation between the vandals, my three and five-year-old sons as they ate popsicles on the porch with my nephew, their cousin Riley.

Sam: My mom loves popswickels.

Charlie:  Yeah, herm wuvs dem.

Riley: My mom likes dem, and she’s pretty.

Sam: Not pweety as my mom.

Charlie: Ya, our moms pwettiest and wikes more popswickels because dares two of us brudders, you are just one brudder.

Riley:  Oh. Okay.

The logic of vandals.

The science of pretty and popsicle love.

It’s an exact methodology.  It cannot be formulated.  It cannot be confirmed.

Still, the grass is always greener and the comparative never subsides.

Why?  Why is this our existence?  From one side of my Loreal stained lips I profess my wholeness in Jesus Christ, from the other I denounce my worth, measure myself in inches and pounds and vow to be different.

More different, more complete than the totality bought for me on a rugged cross on Calvary – and when I fail at the impossible, I commit to the impossible once more… starting Monday.  And yes, I am a Rodan and Fields consultant.  My skin has never looked better… but I won’t force you to party with me.  I am addicted to Young Living Essential Oils, if you want some you can ask me, but otherwise, I have nothing to say.

Perhaps I am the world’s worst sales person?

Or perhaps, I can’t bear to be the next person that tells you how to be one way or another, because… I still haven’t found a me I would recommend you try and be.

And I love my kettlebell.

I love my spin bike.

I watch tv, usually a stupid sitcom while I spin in the mornings.  I use marbles to count sets of 10 on my kettle bell swings.  I have a favorite water bottle and a favorite lipstick, mascara, and toothpaste.  And they help me like me a little better, but I will gladly look at what you are using and try it instead.

What is this?  Why is there such discontentment in me, if I truly believe… my identity is in Christ?

Is there a place woman come to where they are finally at peace with themselves because of who He is?

As someone who has been perfectly fit and perfectly fat I propose the answer is no, however that isn’t the end of my answer.

I may not like the size of my butt or the mass of my chin.

Your nose may be big and your eyes may be narrow.

You may be missing a limb or have a weird growth, but I propose you may still have peace.

Here is the place I currently rest; I am grieving the loss of our long-term foster love.

A year ago I would have counted this grief as a lack of faith.  I would have believed I was weak and unworthy because I was in pain.

A year ago I would have been wrong.

Grief is a legitimate emotion and a genuine and appropriate celebration of a loss.  Grief does not negate the power of the Cross.

Grief does not separate me from the love of God, it draws me nearer.

And this is where I believe so many women, including myself, believe they are failing in their walk with Jesus, because of how they look.

I have counted my physical appearance and my lack of peace about it, as a reflection of God’s love for me.  I have made up modern day and Americanized laws in an attempt to manifest fruits of the spirit and impress God so that He would love me.

He loves me.

He thinks I am grand.

As Andrew Farley teaches, an apple tree doesn’t try to produce apples, it just does.

A believer, who takes on the Spirit of Jesus Christ has peace – grief, discomfort, a lack of zealousness for my appearance in a swimsuit, or frustration that my kids are being buttheads doesn’t change the fact that He loves me.

Furthermore, I propose the desire to better oneself; lose weight, change hairstyles, wear Spanx, or improve overall health, are engagements worthy of celebrating our creation.  It is not until I count the actions as part of an atonement or an addition to the work of Cross that they interfere with who He is and how much He loves me.

No, He doesn’t want my health to fail.

Yes, He loves me – no matter what.

It is in a place of believing He is crazy about me that I find this truth and am able to enjoy activities like a walk after dinner or a healthy new recipe because they are good for me… but they do not make me good.

Another scoop of ice cream is permissible, but is it beneficial?

And if I make that choice have I been separated from Him?

No.

The righteousness bought by the Cross is harder to swallow than any of the teachings of Jesus because we are not worthy, but I propose that the guilt and shame I harbor for my appearance do not add to that worthiness.

The blood worked.

To believe that my weight, muscle tone, bra size, lash length, or lip fullness are an addition to that work is a lie from the enemy.  The devil will gladly help me in my belief that I can add to the majesty when I am “perfect” but he is only successful in watering down the impeccable sacrifice and making me a false idol… that continually disappoints myself.

I have not crossed the finish line in my pursuit of wellness.

But I am closer to the Truth of what Jesus says about me than I have ever been.

He loves me.

He adores you.

He thinks we are His gorgeous daughters and He wants the very best for us.

Count calories if you’d like, but don’t count them toward your righteousness.

Freedom is a legitimate emotion and a genuine and appropriate celebration of a life in Jesus Christ.  Freedom does not negate the power of my pant size. I may want to be slimmer, taller, and have flawless cuticles in the process, but those things sure as sheet-cake don’t add to the message of He who loved me unto His death.

Now then, let’s go change the world, I already know what I am going to wear.

May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami

I have told you this so that you will have peace by being united to me. The world will make you suffer. But be brave! I have defeated the world!” John 16:33

You might also like Are you there God its Swimsuit Season and my store!

In search of more freedom? Check out my friend Heather Creekmore’s new book!

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