This goes out to all of my squad mates who have gained a few pounds over the past 11 months.
I know the feeling of defeat all too well. Looking down at my body in disappointment. How could I let it come to this? In college I struggled with body image more than I’d like to admit. The outcome was thinking about food 24-7, which led to a cycle of binging and purging through laxatives. It’s a dark, lonely place.
Coming on the Race, I knew that there would be a lot of factors playing into what my body looks like that I couldn’t control, and some that I could. But I promised myself that I would not let the enemy have any territory over this part of my mind. And any time he tried to creep in, I have learned to take these thoughts captive.
This year, there have been months that I have indulged, months that I have been hungry, months that I have eaten straight carbs in abundance and was forced to keep eating them to not offend a host. There have been months that I have sweat my booty off doing manual labor for 7 hours a day, and months that I had to walk 6 miles there and back to get to ministry. There have been months that I haven’t hardly left the building that I was living and teaching English in (except for a morning run). But that is the Race. You really never know what your month will hold.
Don’t get me wrong when I say that you have zero control over what your body looks like, because in many situations you do, but I have found that for me it is ultimately a battle of the mind. One that I have found VICTORY in through Jesus.
This is where I found that victory: I know my body is a gift. I am choosing to see it for what it is: Strong. Functional. Unique. Beautiful. A dwelling place. A creative work of art.
I am blessed to have a body that could carry me through 11 months of life (and many before that) seeing and experiencing things that I am amazed by. I have tasted foods that are good for my soul. I have sat down with strangers over a 4 hour meal and by the end called them family. My body is full of life. It has picked up little babies and swung them around taking in every sound of their giggling voices. It has danced for countless hours embracing goofiness and joy to connect with others despite language barriers. It has hiked up steep mountains to be misted by waterfalls that took my breath away. It has consistently run 3 or 4 miles each morning as the sun rose over whatever dirt path or city street I was clearing my mind on. It has carried a years worth of belongings on its back around the world to experience rich culture and serve the Lord.
I have not weighed myself on a scale in 11 months. I honestly couldn’t tell you if I’ve gained 5 pounds or 15, but that doesn’t really matter. Because either way – my body is worth celebrating. It is one of billions of masterpieces crafted by my Creator and I’m sick of telling myself anything different.
This celebration is not an act of worshiping my body. Rather, it’s an act of worshipping God for this gift of a full life that He has allowed me to live in my body.
If I lose weight when I come home going back to normal eating/exercise habits, cool. But if not, that’s okay too. I know that I am healthy and I want to respect my body and mind in this transitional season. So that is what I’m going to do. I need accountability though, and would be honored to invite every person into this. If I fall into objectifying myself in any way, shape, or form, remind me of all that my body has accomplished and what it is capable of. Remind me of the soul that it houses. Remind me that it is a dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. Let’s remind each other of truth.
Thanks God for giving me this gift – a unique home to do life in. Help me to take care of it, to fuel it with yummy, nutritious foods, to exercise and move because it feels good (not to change what it looks like). And help me not beat my body up with my mind. Lord, help me to see myself the way that you see me.
