Consumed, Not Obsessed

My obsession manifested presently in calorie counting (which I justified as gaining information) and weight lifting (research purposes) and spiraled into every aspect of life. 

I was striving striving striving to take control of myself.  

To attempt a summit of the mountain before me. 

Sometimes I was fairly decent at it.  My calories were on track and so was my workout regime.  But who was controlling whom?  I did not feel in control of my heart at all.  This THING had control.  It had become the reason I got up in the morning (to go to the gym). The reason I took every bite (calorie counting).  Every decision was based around this (hit that goal weight).  I was being controlled, not in control. 

When the Lord broke in He said:
The fruit of the Spirit is... SELF CONTROL.

...shame
...condemnation

wait. wait. 


It hit me: self-control was sourced in the Spirit of God.  So if I am connected to His Spirit, the natural outflow is self-control.  Natural.  Orange trees don't strive to make oranges.  Self-control does not mean striving? Where was this striving coming from?  

My obsessive behavior had taken control of me.  It may have appeared to be self-control, but it felt the opposite.  Doing this in my own strength was working out to be lame.  The path I had taken did not lead to any mountain at all, but to a wasteland of self-hatred, self-judgement and disappointment. 

My relationship with the Lord hadn't been the greatest in the last few months.  (Who has time for a quiet time when there are calorie counting numbers to crunch?) My desperation was not for Jesus and I was not fulfilled.  

So I made a decision.

I decided to be consumed with Him.  

I kinda said, "I might as well try Jesus, because this route isn't working out."

Pretty holy of me, right? 

And that's when He started to change things. My desperation for Him grew.  I felt light.  My perspective wasn't so harsh.  As I choose Jesus I could see myself differently.  
I felt... pretty.

Oh, I forgot to mention, I had made a goal for myself that when I reached the goal (the specific weight) (the top of the mountain) I would cut my hair and dye it red.  I didn't tell anyone what these were my plans, it was just some secret motivation tucked away.  

I'm not sure where the idea came from.  I needed a change in a big way, and in my mind red heads are self confident and fun.  They are fun to be around. They are not reserved and they are not afraid.  I wanted that. To have freedom.  But to achieve all that I had to weigh a specific number. Right?

WRONG.

So I dyed my hair.  Actually I got a groupon and had the nice lady at the salon do that.  She also cut it for me. (Which was really scary.  Do you know that the dye goes from pasty white to bright orange before it turns red-ish? I sure didn't. )

(The picture doesn't even give justice to the sunkist glow orange I witnessed appear on my head.)

I was rejecting my expectation for myself.  My hair became a tangible way of agreeing with the idea that I can embrace life right now. Right here on the plateau. 

Maybe the mountain is not a # on a scale.  
Maybe the mountain is BEAUTY.  

One day as a Health and Wellness Consultant I want to come against one of the biggest lies on woman.  The slander of our self-image.  The debeautification of focusing on our physical bodies only.  I want to speak from a place of victory with a voice of authority that WE ARE BEAUTIFUL.  I need to know that for me first.  

I'm not there yet.  I have days that I walk in truth and rock my red hair, and I still have days that I question if I am fooling myself.  But I'm not giving up.  I'm going to keep walking toward that mountain.  I'm going to keep pursuing Jesus.  The images I see daily of "perfect bodies" are difficult for me to process.  The only effective weapon I have found for the visual assault has been choosing Jesus.  There is a hope in His calling.  Hope, riches and greatness of power (Eph 1).  Being consumed isn't quite coming naturally.  I'm having to fight for it.  And in the midst I am seeing a little fruit budding.  My hunch is that it is self-contol. 

Your eyes will see the King in His beauty.