Thursday, January 3, 2019

Leggings, Spandex, and long flowy shirts

It's the beginning of January and here I go again.  I'm eating like a maniac because I know the moment of truth is here and I have to start cutting back and once again try to maintain some semblance of good health and nutrition.

When I was younger, there were more obvious signs which pointed towards a cut back.  Jeans for one.  Jeans were a daily reminder of how things were going in the food department.  If you had to lay on your back to shimmy yourself into your denims, well, things weren't going so good.  If you secretly unbuttoned that little metal Levi button to help you breath...yeah, you know what I'm talking about.
Those alarms don't exist in today's world.  We have leggings.  We have tunics.  We have what everyone affectionately calls "athletic wear".  What a joke!  The only athlete most of that spandex has seen is our bundled bottom on a well worn track to the refrigerator.  Am I meddling too much?  Sorry, I really am speaking for myself and if you still want to stand by your claim, please, march on.  They are your work out clothes and who am I to say otherwise!

My point is this:  Leggings and all of it's cousins mask what is happening in my body.  They softly embrace my muffin top and give me no reason to feel uncomfortable or alarmed.  Want fries with that?  Go ahead...we got cha covered.  An extra scoop of ice cream?  No problem!  There is room enough to spare here!

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash
I'm afraid that leggings are not the only things that try to cover over and excuse our comfortable,  over indulgent life style.  There is a whole marshmallow cloud of  comfortable settling in on us even as I write. We absolutely love to be comfortable.  Give me an oversized pair of sweat pants, some fluffy socks, and a soft t-shirt and I'm in heaven.  Throw in a Hallmark movie and a cup of hot
chocolate and....well, life is just plain good.

I like it.  Comfort that is.  But, I'm reminded daily that life is not all about my comfort.  It is so easy to think that it is.  If we are honest, most of our day is spent to bring about the feeling of comfort to our tired, achy bodies and perhaps to our even more achy feelings.  Even last night, I put the timer on my Starbucks coffee brew so that it would be ready for the taking when I got dressed.  Ahh,,,,good hot cup of java to begin my day.  It makes me HaPpy! I won't leave home without it.

So how do we get to a point of self denial.  A point where we make a decision to actually say no to self and yes to something that might not be as "comfortable" but actually might be better for us. The only way I know how to do that is to get to know the person who ultimately showed us what it meant to deny Himself...Jesus.  He is the ultimate example of leaving the comfort and safety of his surroundings and marching towards something that would bring about great suffering for him, but ultimately be the cure for the world.

I want to be like Jesus.  Sure, I'm going to have to fight my nature to please myself....but the point is....I'M GOING TO FIGHT.  I'm going to put on athletic wear, and actually run a race....the one He has set before me.  It will require intense training and long days.  It will actually require me to say a big fat NO to the extras that everyone else seems to have.  It will leave me exhausted at the end of each day and I might lose a few hours of sleep.  But, I will fight this culture of over indulgence that tells me I'm worth the extra food and pampering and turn to the one who says I'm worth it, because of who HE is...not because of my own merit.

Comfort?  Meh...it's over rated.  I'm choosing to march toward a goal that will ultimately produce more than a lean body or a pampered life style.  I want to be more like Jesus.  I want it so bad, I'm willing to chisel away all of the trappings that keep me from seeing it clearly.  I'm throwing out the clutter and I'm pressing on to the prize he has set before me.  I'm in this race...no longer a bystander, standing on the sidelines,  pretending to be an athlete.  I'm in.
Photo by Ethan Hoover on Unsplash

Every wound healed.  Every child, a home.

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