It doesn’t seem fair.
I think I’ve been self-conscious and had to watch what I eat and work out since I was 10 years old. (Not that you would necessarily know that I work out and watch what I eat by looking at me!) I was probably 8 when my mom patiently explained to me that my metabolism would always be different than my younger sister and brother.
I was even younger than that the first time that I stood before the mirror and bawled and bawled, my spirit crying out to God in despair – “Why did you make me this way?”
And I cry now, remembering that time, because I’m broken over the fact that I was just a baby then and already so tormented by those thoughts, and because I still feel the same way so often.
It’s crazy how Kaya has so many of the same features that I do. Not just her smile or hair color, but her legs, her square little feet…all the things that are glaring imperfections on me are so perfect and impossibly precious to me on her. And I pray and hope that she will not have to fight the battles that I have…that I still do.
Some days I call it all out for the demonic lie that it is. That God screwed up…or maybe I screwed up…that my body is a horror…that I should be ashamed. My sweet husband will ask me gently, “Are these thoughts from God?” They never are. And yet sometimes they feel more real than all the Scriptures I’ve memorized to help my mind to rise above.
I’m working out pretty regularly. I eat as healthy as I know how, but not militantly careful. Sometimes I beat myself up for being undisciplined, but I’m not sure that’s really true. Hudson’s almost a year old and I am so far from my goals. It’s not as easy or quick to lose 5 or 10 pounds as it was when I was a few years younger and only had myself to worry about, no children or husband to prioritize. I worry that it will just get harder from here. That I will be chronically overweight. I know that I am healthy, that my family loves me, that God doesn’t condemn me for the way my body looks…and maybe He even created me this way. Maybe I haven’t screwed everything up.
Maybe I’ll fit back into those jeans that taunt me from the back of my closet. Maybe I should just give them away. Maybe I need to try harder? Maybe I should find a way to be content….
I know this is just a vessel of clay (2 Cor. 4), and that true beauty is, by God’s defining, the hidden person of the heart, a gentle and quiet spirit (1 Peter 3). I hope that my inner person is beautiful in his sight…and I know it cannot be at it’s best if all I care about is the external…
…but sometimes it’s so hard. Every day I have to get dressed and push down the thoughts that are always there, threatening to overtake me. And the guilt for a day wasted in self-pity and gloom rather than joyous victory and focus on God is heavier than all the accusations. I’ve cried out so many times that God would just take it all away! But I am sensing that he is allowing this battle for his good purposes, and it is causing me to be more humble, and to rely on Him more.
trying to set my mind on what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, praiseworthy & excellent– on the LORD!
“…but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.”
“Pay careful attention, then, to how you walk – not as unwise, but as wise – making the most of the time, because the days are evil.” (Eph. 5:15-16)