Wrasslin' with the flesh and the devil

So..... 
Life goes like the seasons. Or the tide. Progress, regress, working, resting, happy, sad, good, bad, it swells then it dries up. But not nearly that regulated. You just can't predict what is going to happen. There is that principle of sowing and reaping, but then again there are tsunamis that throw everything off (or a double crop).

This morning I was doing my Bible study and it was talking in the Scriptures about a list of sins.... pretty serious sins.... and how that those who commit those sins will not inherit the kingdom of God. Kinda scary, if you think about it. Then the hope comes, telling that "and such were some of you" along with the promise that it is Christ who washes us, saves us, redeems us. It is not our own work, but His goodness and perfection that God looks upon. I became a believer at a young age and have walked with the Lord my whole life since. But I sin daily, if not hourly. My thoughts and inclinations lean to sin. My heart resists those thoughts and inclinations, because the Holy Spirit resides there and lives through me. How do I know it is He? Because I also still can see and feel my natural nature that resides in this body. I think I know the beast that would have been my lot had it not been for Christ. I am keenly aware that I am one of those chief sinners that He had to rescue early, to save me and others from what I was capable of.

I am wrestling with the devil and my flesh every day right now, choosing to eat the things that I should eat in order to put my body back into balance. Heck, it's been out of balance so long I don't even know what that means. Years ago, my doctor told me, "Rose, you need to quit trying to do this alone. You need as much help and support as you can get." I tried a couple of things, in particular a clinic that had me taking hormone shots every day and eating 500 calories a day. Sure, I lost weight. Who wouldn't? There was no instruction except a sheet with foods on it and a package of shots they sent me home with every week. People always say, "well, we all know what we need to do to lose weight." But I do not agree with that. It becomes such a muddle of brain vs. heart vs. body, so confusing and so disheartening that most of us give up. Why torture yourself, when the rest of the planet doesn't seem to be doing anything about it either? And it's so easy and quick to just live and eat whatever is there...

During this clinic phase, my left ovary blew up into the size of a cantaloupe (from ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, caused from the hormones). I was having incredible pain and had to stop the program. Thank you Jesus. That whole plan was only a quick fix that taught me nothing.  I had a brief window of relief from some of my fat symptoms, but then of course it began to creep back.

Fat symptoms? Yes, those are myriad, and people who are 20-30 pounds overweight don't really know about those. I'm talking about for those of us who are truly obese.... we have things going on that nobody wants to talk about. Like, if I run out of baby powder I am in really big trouble from all the chafing. Or -- when I bend over to paint baseboards and cut in low places on walls, my ribs hurt and I suffer for a week after a big job, just from the ribs (not to mention all the other places that are constantly sore). I don't have a lap for my grandbabies. They just slide forward when I'm trying to hold them.  I often think I am having a heart attack, because in the evenings I get acid reflux. I have pain down my left arm, in my neck and in my chest, just like a heart attack. I have been thoroughly roto-rootered by the doctors and they assure me all that pain is caused from gastric issues. I have this gigantic tummy and apron, that started with my four gargantuan 11-pound babies and then was added to by cheesecake and loss of my core muscles. Do you think that is fun? No, it is the bane of my life. I am long and tall, so there are no shirts long enough or big enough to deal with that. I'm constantly neck-deep in paint, so I just have to not care about what I'm exposing people to. I work very hard, but getting up and moving is a giant chore. Once everything gets warmed up and in motion, somehow I can work like a Trojan, but then when I stop, or when I go to sleep, I sometimes think I'm not going to live much longer because everything sets up like cement. And there are so many more things that I can't tell here.... I am disclosing too much already.

I have no right to feel sorry for myself. I brought this on, all by myself. It didn't happen overnight or even in just a year or two. There have been plenty of decades of health warnings, meaningful interventions and tears, not to mention the many whispers from that still, small voice that lives inside my heart. It didn't just creep up on me. So, with all that, all those horrid symptoms that I live with every day, all that love from others, all those warnings, why would I continue to ignore them? Well, isn't that just a conundrum? And isn't that the 150,000,000 dollar question? Because if somebody could bottle or patent the answer to that, they'd be richer than Warren Buffet. Buffet. Now isn't that ironic?

The answer can't be bottled or patented. It is so complex, very few ever figure it out and work it out. Particularly in our grab-it-right-now society, it's just too much hard work to muster it out. Because it's individual, it's heart issues, it's physical issues. There is no one-size-fits-all answer. The weird thing is, we are so obsessed with what is on the outside, yet we are getting fatter and fatter. The models are getting thinner and thinner, the "ideal" is impossible to meet, most young girls feel completely inadequate and ugly, and the creekbed is getting more shallow by the day. The things that truly matter in life -- things like love, joy, peace -- are being left behind for a fragile shell that is not even based in reality. 

Meanwhile, I am shackled by my body, by the excesses that I have enjoyed. I am 53 years old, for heaven's sake. I have no delusions of getting back that 20-year old body I used to have -- that would be silly. I have never let my fat body keep me from jumping in the ocean or wearing a bathing suit.... but there are many things that I simply can't do because I am shackled.  There are many things I have missed because I was too tired to do them. I believe God gives us a certain amount of days. What we do with them matters. I could be hit over the head with a tree this afternoon, or I could live to be 93 and be fat the whole time....but with many physical sorrows if I don't whup the fat beast now. The Word says that we are either a slave to sin or a slave to righteousness. How true that is. How many times have I thought to myself, over a piece of cake or a whopping bowl of ice cream, "well, I am free to do this." Yup, free. You tell yourself that, and then you freely imbibe, but then you chain yourself to your fat hips. You chain yourself to the voice that says you are free. Then when you tell yourself "no" -- it's virtually like beating off a nest of hornets. It was in one of these moments last weekend that I realized how strong that beast is. I had eaten moderately all day, and was at a baby shower where there were a bowl of chocolate-covered almonds right by my seat, within finger's reach. I told myself I could have two of them, which rightly was moderate and allowable. So I ate the two, savored them meltingly in my mouth. Yum. So good. My hand reached for a third. I pulled back. I took my left hand and held my right hand down. My brain told me it was okay to eat more. Right there, in the middle of chatty and laughing ladies, I was quietly having a duel-to-the-death with myself. I wanted to eat those things until I was satiated with them. I wanted to eat the whole bowl. I told myself I would just have a blow-it day that day...and would start up again tomorrow. I told myself I was being legalistic. I told myself that this was all silly and I was being ridiculous about a few more bites. Who would care? I was going to fail at this anyway. Somehow, somewhere in there I breathed deeply and surrendered to the Holy Spirit. I won. He won. I was chained to Him, not my flesh. For that minute and that day.

Pray for me. I am down 20 pounds and have 100 more to go. Deeper than that, I have many more battles to fight and lots of chocolate to overcome.