Weight is
my enemy. I’m always on the verge of seeing my weight balloon uncontrollably. I
can barely remember when it wasn’t so, when I didn’t have to stretch over to
see my toes in the shower or feel self-conscious about the spare tire I lug
around.
I’ve tried
a lot of different diets. They all work for a while. I lose
weight. I celebrate my discipline. I buy new clothes.
But then it
slowly creeps back. I rue my dietary lapses. I buy new clothes yet again. I feel bad. Irene,
my wife, worries about my yo-yo dieting. “It isn’t healthy,” she says. But
without this dietary tapping of my metabolic brakes, once or twice a year, I’m
afraid I’m in for run away freight-train weight gain.
So I
struggle. This month I’m starting a Herbalife diet. I make tasty milkshakes
twice a day. They are loaded with supplements. I take vitamin pills. I
try to remember to drink more water. And, of course, I try to eat less of
everything else. I hardly dare visit the Tim Horton’s drive through anymore for
fear that a momentary lapse of discipline might led to gobbling down a donut. In fact, yesterday, pathetically, while ordering my “medium black,” I
broke down and also ordered a single Timbit. I felt guilty about it.
The Herbalife diet is only the start. At church I’ve joined an exercise class for over-fifties. So far, I’ve discovered that I’m not limber. I can do the jumping jacks
and lunges but am amazed at how hard the planks and stretches are.
This is in
addition to my three-times weekly (well, at least twice weekly) visits to my
gym, where I put in 45 minutes of elliptical training. It all seems like wasted
time. I could be reading or daydreaming, instead. That would be living.
So why do I
go through all this trouble? Fear. I want to be healthy. I want to see my grandchildren grow
up. I don't want to die young. So, no matter how hard, no matter how inconvenient I try and I try again
to keep this whole weight and health thing on track.
But it also
got me to thinking. Ultimately, this fear isn’t working for me. My weight remains a
problem. I always feel bad about it.
And this is exactly what authentic Christian life should not be like.
The
Christian life—including all of its good deeds such as loving neighbor or
turning the other cheek—is not properly motivated by fear of hell, fear of
being wrong, or fear of community rejection or judgment. Even when it is, you’ll
just feel bad about it.
No, the healthy Christian life
and every good work we do is properly rooted in gratitude.
The bottom
line is that in a cold and dark universe God has blessed each of us with the
spark of life and a sun that rises and sets. Many of us are beloved by parents,
children, and friends. We have skills to hone and days to spend. Life is a
beautiful gift.
The best
response to such life is gratitude, gratitude that permeates every living
moment and shapes our every act.
And perhaps
one day, I’ll even be able fit my dieting and exercise into that picture!
Very good points, John. I gained 20 pounds over the last two years- crummy things happened, I ate to feel better, decided I didn't care. But when I got the heaviest I've ever been, last spring, I was feeling heavy and slow. I realized I did care. I've lost 12 of the pounds. Why? Because I feel much better at a lower weight and can do more of the things I want to do. I don't think fear is part of my motivation. I don't remember you being particularly heavy. Do you remember feeling good when you were at a lower weight? Wishing you well!
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