A man was asked how he lost 75 pounds. He said it was simple but not easy. He “made the better choice.” A walk vs. two cups of coffee with his newspaper. Grilled chicken instead of barbecue ribs.
The better choice, over and over.*
This concept mirrored what I’ve said this last year: Every good choice is a step back on the path to success.**
Here’s where we keep it real, folks. Over the holidays my weight slowly crept up. A pound here and there. At first it was no big deal, but then it was 4 pounds instead of two.
But worse than the slight increase on the scale was the fact that bad choices that came easier and easier. Skip the fresh fruits and veggies. Just one piece of fudge. No, make that two. Another heaping? Just this once.
If it had been a few days of indulgence I would have been okay with that. I believe in times of celebration. It isn’t what you do 10% of the time that is a problem, it’s the 90% that counts.
I didn’t tank for the whole 6 weeks Thanksgiving to New Years. I’d hop back into my healthy lifestyle for a few days, but then . . . well, my son-in-law makes amazing peanut butter fudge . . .
Yesterday I gave God permission to convict me. I had a great day at first. Healthy foods. Just the right amounts. Then four o’clock hit. I’d saved a piece of banana bread for a snack with no calorie herb tea.
The first slice was planned for. The second wasn’t. (And yes I knew I shouldn’t.)
I’m under a writing deadline so we splurged on pizza for supper. I’d planned for that (except for the banana bread splurge). But I had one slice too many, even as I heard my Father’s Voice suggesting I’d had enough.
This morning I wanted to pretend that the Lord didn’t really care about my bad choices. If I admitted He was involved, then I had to admit I’d blown him off.
Then He whispered sweetly, “How is this any different than any other way you blow it? What have I taught you?”
That forgiveness is full and complete. That wallowing in condemnation and shame makes me mess up again sooner. That it’s best to own up, apologize, and get back to living in victory.
So God and I had a talk. I gave him permission to intervene again (though letting Him in on this living healthy thing really ups the stakes).
My hesitation to invite him into my daily health choices goes back how I perceive Him. Do I trust His heart toward me to be good, or do I think He wants to deprive me? Do I believe He allows moments of feasting or think I have to walk a tightrope of perfection, never deviating from a prescribed plan?
Weight loss is like anything else in the Christian walk. It’s not about the rules, it’s about the relationship. It’s about listening to the Spirit’s whisper and responding.
It’s about believing what He has for me is good.
This morning I really wanted all of that heavy granola and blueberry pancake topped with pecans that my husband made, despite the fact that he apologized for making it bigger than he meant to and suggested I might want to put part of it away for tomorrow. I didn’t like his comment, but I’m glad he said it because part of that yummy pancake is in the refrigerator waiting to bless me tomorrow.
It’s back to real life after the holidays. Reasonable calorie counts. Healthier food. Listening to the Voice.
* This story was in a weight loss devotional entitled Faithfully Fit.
**This concept from another devotional, Made to Crave.