I'm nervous, writing about this. It's hard to talk about because I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid I'll be proud and strong and able and willing and then it will crumble and I'll just be me. But I've been hearing the call for so long...and I hope my words can encourage another.
It was easy to revel in intellectual pursuit, geeky fun, music and games... and it still is. But being athletic? Being "strong?" That seemed impossible. Like some weird pipe dream. But in the midst of reinventing myself into the image of God I became weary of pretending I didn't care about this vessel. I was tired. Tired of being tired. Tired of feeling like I was losing the fight. Tired of thinking there was no way to win.
It took me awhile to see what God sees: this body is part of the total package. What I eat, how I treat myself, can affect who I am. He gave me the verse (1 Corinthians 6:19-20) when I was pregnant with my eldest daughter and it has lived on my dresser for seven years and through 3 moves (and 3 dressers). How could I have missed it? This body is mine on loan. It's a reminder of what I will have in eternity and how I care for myself now just might have an impact on who I become. For eternity.
Girl-chosen-last-on-the-kickball-team just lost 30 pounds. Truth. And she goes to the gym 3 days a week to tear it up next to the best of them. Strong, powerful and beautiful. And she loves it.