good at being bad, bad at being good, learning all the way

My silence on the blog hasn't meant an end to the pursuit of the mission, which I repeat here to remind myself:

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.

Sometime since I last posted, I ran into a great friend in the hallway.  She was teasing me about something I consistently do, saying, "You're so funny" several times.  I laughed along with her, and then did that icky thing I sometimes do:  I was mean to me...I was the butt of my own joke.  

"I think you mean dumb...like 'You're so dumb!'"  Her eyes grew wide as she was walking away, and I was left wondering...did she hear that I was saying that was about me...or did she think I just called HER dumb?  I was pretty mortified, pondering it. 

She was great (as always) the next time I saw her, so I suppose she heard all of what I said.  We didn't talk about that sentence further.

But OH MY, Holy Spirit had a thing or two to say to me about it!

So, it would be terrible for you to say it about her, but funny to say it about you, really?  How is that?


Why is it important that you treat her with love and respect, while not mattering what you say to/about yourself? 

Do you really believe I sort people out in the same cliquish ways people do...favoritism and all?

Uh.

I have worked past A LOT of those negative internal dialogues that beat me down, but a 5-second conversation in the hall really revealed to me:  baby, I ain't arrived yet.

So I'm back to working on listening to what I say to myself, about myself and pushing it through the "God filter."  

Tonight I learned that there is an exercise class here at my house, 4 nights a week.  Free.  I met the news with great dread and horror.  It seems I STILL don't want to exercise.  


I am reminded that love, in the context of relationships, often means doing what I don't prefer to do, for the higher good.  I go back to the child-raising metaphor:  if I know that good parenting means discipline for the child's own good, and then I choose not to discipline because it's uncomfortable for me or requires too much energy on my part...well, that's not love.


I don't have to "feel" love, in this instance.  I need to SHOW love by doing what is best for this child that is my body, despite my discomfort and general laziness that yells, "NOOOOO!" at the notion of stepping it up a notch.


Will I choose to love my body this week?  


Oh Lord, please help me.