Confession

It was time to "go to confession" yesterday, as it were. HIGH time. Not confession like you might be thinking, but a similar idea. I confessed while I walked. Pretty much the whole two miles.

I've read lots of weight-loss "confession" posts through The Sisterhood and they're all good. All people recognizing where they've failed ~ often why they've failed ~ and promising to do better next time. All admitting they've messed up, taking full responsibility for bad moves and destructive eating behaviours. All relying on themselves to fix things.

I had to confess yesterday that I'd been doing the same thing ~ relying on myself.

Physically, yes, I'm the only one who can do anything about changing my bad habits, but I know I can't do it on my own strength. I've proven over and over again that I simply do not have the will-power. I need God's strength, too. Triumph requires MY "try" with the extra "umph" from the Holy Spirit.

And I've been goin' it alone for the last couple of weeks, I realized. Not turning to God for help and, as a result, relaxing the "rules" a little too much. Allowing myself to cave in a little too easily when I'm tempted and tantalized by the very real bag of Creamy Dill chips in the cupboard. (Which, once again, I idiotically allowed myself to buy last week.)

This whole Bible study has been trying to raise awareness of the difference between "soul hunger" and physical hunger, but I'm resistant to the idea that every time I feel like eating, I'm seeking to fill a void, however. I eat for celebratory reasons as easily as for comfort reasons. Maybe I'm in denial, but somehow that doesn't seem like "soul hunger" then, in my mind.

When I discussed this with my friend Alicia, she said it might more appropriately be called "head hunger." When you feel like eating for fun, not because you're craving solace. Like when I'm celebrating because I've got the house to myself or because I'm happy a stressful event is over, etc., all the while knowing full well that I'm not actually physically hungry.

The Psalmists turned to God for any and all reasons. When they were celebrating, they wrote psalms. When they were afraid, they wrote psalms. When they were vengeful, they wrote psalms. When they were depressed.... you get the idea. Me? I eat.

So I confessed. I confessed to not seeking God's help much lately. I confessed to doing this whole weight loss thing simply because I want to look hot. I confessed to shifting my focus from Him back down on me. And rather than promising to do better this week, I begged Him to help me do better. To help me to WANT to do better.

Because as much as I'm looking forward to feeling sexy, this is not about me. It's about being a physical extension of HIM.

When someone comes to me, hurting, I want to emanate HIS peace. When someone comes to me celebrating, I want to emanate HIS joy. When someone comes to me asking for weight loss advice, I want to give HIS wisdom.

I've often heard the phrase "you may be the only Bible someone ever reads" and if that's the case, well, there's little hope for that "someone" when I'm living life focused on myself. MY appearance, MY experience, MY habits...

THIS IS NOT. ABOUT. ME!!!

If I am to be HIM to ANYONE, I need to pursue intimacy with Him; to allow Him to fill me to overflowing; to control my every move.

Including, but in no way limited to, stopping and reversing my path to the chips cupboard.