Okay, folks . . . it's that time again. I'm down to two suits, one sports coat, and only a couple of pants that I can squeeze into. No more excuses. I'm tired of good intentions, secret promises to myself . . .
Okay, folks . . . it's that time again. I'm down to two suits, one sports coat, and only a couple of pants that I can squeeze into. No more excuses. I'm tired of good intentions, secret promises to myself, groans and grunts as I roll out of bed in the morning, and especially those well-meaning comments from first-time visitors at our church: "You look . . . uh . . . different than I expected." I suppose that's better than "You look . . . uh . . . fat."
Funny thing about being overweight . . . it's impossible to hide it. So the alternatives are (a) ignore it and lie to yourself by saying nobody notices, (b) make jokes about it, (c) try to solve the problem overnight—which is tempting but dumb, or (d) face the music and get underway with a long-range plan that works.
For me, it's an intelligent diet (ugh!) mixed with a program of regular exercise and a do-or-die mind-set that is determined to see it through, followed by a from-now-on game plan that is realistic, workable, and consistent.
Personally, I don't need a shrink to shrink. But what I do need is discipline with a big D. (It might also help me a lot to think of rewards other than a strawberry sundae.) You know what I'm getting at, don't you? If I intend to avoid great widths, I need to go to great lengths to make that happen. And if you are put together somewhat like I am, you do too.
So why am I telling you all this? It would be much easier and certainly less embarrassing for me to say nothing, eat little, exercise in obscurity, and start to shrink. I did that once before and it worked. Problem was, when I got down to my desired weight, a rumor spread that I had cancer. Cynthia even got a sympathy card or two. So . . . none of that.
I'm mentioning it because I need to be accountable and we need to be reminded of the importance of our physical appearance. While there is an overemphasis on this in the secular world, for some strange reason, we Christians tend to underestimate its importance. Yet our bodies are indeed the "temple of the Holy Spirit" and we are to "glorify God" in those bodies (1 Cor. 6:19-20).
So, let's get serious about something we've ignored or excused or joked about long enough. As for me, I've got about forty pounds to go. How about you?
Have you looked in the mirror lately? Could the Spirit's temple stand a little attention to get it back where it ought to be?