|Photo by Jarod Carruthers via Flickr|
And there, in the bathroom with that ugly number staring back at me, I got it. That little whisper-voice I've been waiting to hear for weeks. "You need to give this up for Lent."
I know, I'm a few days late. But you see, I've been waiting. Waiting for God to tell me that thing I needed to give up or add on. And nothing seemed quite right.
Chocolate? Sugar? Both good things to give up, but I knew they were wrong for me. Wrong because I couldn't make my heart be right to do it. Wrong because they'd put the focus onto myself and how many pounds I might lose if I gave them up. It would be a diet exercise, not a surrender one.
But this, this is the ultimate surrender for me. Taking the focus off of myself, off of trying, off of believing that I am no more than that number that stares back at me every day. Isn't that the purpose of Lent? To stop focusing on ourselves and turn our focus to God? To die to self? Of all the ways I can think of to die to self, this is probably the most difficult for me.
So I'm stepping off the scale for the next 40 (or so) days. And I'm not putting it away (because I always know where it is) and I'm not asking my husband to hide it (because he's really bad at hiding it). I want it there staring at me every morning as a reminder that when I am focused on myself so intently I lose my focus on God. When all I see are my short-comings and the things that I want to work on in my life I miss seeing the things that God wants to work on in my life. I start to think that what I do for myself is more important than God working in me and through me. I forget that my weight does not determine my worth in God's eyes.
|Photo by Josh DiMauro via Flickr|
Can I admit that right now I'm scared nearly to tears? Can I confess that I'd rather God told me to give up something else? Can I be honest enough to say I want to ignore this whisper as a figment of my imagination?
This is where I'm broken. This is where I need a resurrection.