Saturday, January 8, 2011

started this one with a thought, and then it exploded on me

This year, I resolve to press into God in prayer, to listen to what He tells me, to do what He shows me, to press on and run the race, to not give up until...until...

...until I love my body.
What was I thinking?!

I can't love my body.  
I don't know how to do that. 
I've never done that.  
I can't even wrap my head around that!

It's so abstract.  How will I know when I've gotten there?  There are no numbers to measure!

When I feel the way He cherishes it as a feeling me...that's an accomplished goal.

When I treat it like the gift it is...that's success.

When I can agree with Him for real that it is glorious (and not complain within myself about the way He decided to make it)...well, all I can say is that would be a miracle.
Oh yeah.  Uh.  I guess that's kind of a definition.

Number one difficulty here:  I am accustomed to making a plan and working it.  This would feel less Utterly Impossible if I wrote out a list of stuff to do.  You know, to try and get it under control.

Cuz I'm so very proven in the "getting it under control" department, on this one.

*Insert face palm here*

The part of me that so desperately wants a checklist right now is the ME, ME, ME part.  Karen Who Can Do Anything.  Karen, Queen of Head Knowledge.  

Karen Who Is Bigger Than God.  She's my favorite imaginary friend.  We've spent TONS of time hanging out.  

Meanwhile, there is the business of working it out.  I think I understand that Philippians 2:12 "fear and trembling" bit differently just now than I have before.  I would like a clear road map, and an unhindered view of what's ahead.  But I think this is going to be a "one day at a time" proposition. 

I fell asleep last night knowing what was the next thing He was telling me to do:  fast today.  

I woke up this morning pretending to myself that I didn't know for sure whether it was Him or me who said so.  It takes a special kind of arrogance to pretend like that, eh?  

At my parents' church over the holidays, their pastor talked about the fasting (there is a lot of that going on in their church just now.)  He talked about how the body is not supposed to be in charge.  How it talks so very loudly about what it wants, always stating it as an urgent and undeniable need.  How it needs to be brought into obedience.  

Ever spent a lot of time around a child who has never been brought into obedience...or even worse, and adult who was that child?  Not fun.  Not interesting.  Not pleasing.  Not a blessing.  NOT.  The loving thing to do with a child is teach him how to yield, to obey, to that the world won't shrink away when they see him coming.  So that he can enjoy healthy relationships.  So that he won't push everyone away with his obnoxious demands for what he wants (which of course he thinks he needs, never having learned otherwise).  

Umm.  Wow.  I started writing and this thing is just sort of opening up to me as I do so.  

IT IS NOT UNLOVING to bring my body into obedience. 

My body will be more fun, more interesting, more pleasing, more of a blessing in that state.  

Crap.  That's true!  I never saw it like that before.  

Brought under obedience, it can be healthy.  

Saying goodbye to its obnoxious demands...uh...I COULD GET EXCITED considering that.  

Its current overfed and under-exercised state definitely makes demands.  

Don't walk so fast.  You may not run or jump, or the knees will scream bloody murder.
Avoid the stairs, or I'll make you breathe so hard your throat will get sore.
Don't push your range of movement, or I'll play the clumsy card and make you pay.

Uh.  I've turned my body into an obnoxious, annoying spoiled brat.  

Reversing that project won't be fun at first.  Ever said "no" to someone who isn't accustomed to hearing it?  PLUG. YOUR. EARS.  

But then again, this is also true:  kids without boundaries only lose their minds for a little while when they bump up against someone who consistently enforces boundaries.  Sure, they pitch fits and feel hatred toward the enforcer.  For a bit.  

And then they find comfort in the unexpected place of boundaries.

And next thing you know, the enforcer is one of their favorite people.  Why?  Because they feel the safety and even the love therein, even if they can't understand why or articulate what has happened in them.  

Is it really possible that my body will stop being my enemy if I'll bring it under obedience? 

I'm pretty sure God just gave me definition one of loving my body.  

Color me amazed.

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