My initial plan would, of course, to keep tabs on my weight by weighing myself once or three times a week. But I know I'd weigh myself three times a day, just to see how my weight changes.
I know I'd obsess over said weight change to the point of, like, scary.
And I know I'd be upset over a victory (weight loss) and rattled over a loss (weight gain).
As it happens, I visited a place recently that not only sported the word "luxury" as one of it's many finer benefits (which lead me to question why? and how? can someone possibly list "luxury", along with "blender" and "boat dock" as an asset? Because to me, luxury describes something, so luxury cannot actually be something. And anyway, if you had seen this "luxury", you would have laughed like I did, because the place had seriously not been updated since 1983. I am no designer, but I do have access to catalogs that prove that we have moved on from a sit-on-the-floor, large-screen, wood-framed, box TV.)
Back to the scale.
Which I discovered, hidden behind a cabinet. Is it weird that I felt a little excitement as I pulled that thing out? Yes. It is. But this is precisely how I felt. Joy at the sight of a scale.
I ain't right.
But I proceeded to weigh myself with gusto, and not just in the morning when you're supposed to so you can feel okay about yourself, but almost every time I went into that cursed bathroom. (Not really, but it was often.) I mean really. How often does a person need to know exactly how much the body they are stuck with happens to weigh at any particular point in the day?
So as it goes with most people, my weight fluctuates, a fact that I found to be a) fascinating and b) disturbing. (Yes, I obviously know that my weight would fluctuate, just not to the degree that it did.) I will not share my precise poundage, but I can tell you that by the last time I met with that scale, I was thoroughly disgusted.
I mean, just ugh. Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh.
And then I caught myself calling myself names.
I wouldn't talk to anybody else that way, at least not to their face (oh, I'm only kidding!-maybe not, I can be mean and I don't even mean to be), but I somehow see myself as a prime target for unashamed bashing.
I've just finished reading a novel written by an English author, and you know what she would call that sort of behavior?
Dodgy, that's what.
Somewhere along the way, I've confused a number with self-worth. Meaning, the number goes down, my self-worth goes up. The number goes up, my self-worth goes doowwwwn.
Somehow, the ups and downs don't equal out, and I always feel a bit more down than up. Even when the scale does read a number that I am not happy with but could be satisfied with.
So if weight equals happiness in my book, when will I ever feel happy? Because weight constantly changes. And so does my happiness. Morning? Yay! Afternoon? Oh. Evening? You suck, scale.
Can I just tell you from personal experience that this is no way to live? Because you start to forget about everything else, like blue skies and boat rides and playing games and having fun, all in the name of trying to be happy based on a number on a scale.
But when you're stuck in a rut, you're just stuck. And my rut is so deep, I can't even see over the sides.
Please don't tell me I need to get over it.
I just told you I can't even see over the sides, so there's no catapulting out of this thing.
I'm gonna need Someone who's capable of just knocking the whole rut down, flattening the thing out, to get me out of this.
But I've got to decide that I believe Him over the lies, and let me tell you, that's some tricky business, deciding you believe God more than yourself and the lies you've fallen for.
But tearing my eyes away from that scale and putting them on Him, even if for just a minute, is putting me in the right direction.
I'm not always headed in the right direction. In fact, I'm often heading in directions that make no sense whatsoever, and I feel lost and adrift. But for that minute my eyes are on Him, I know. I know.
That's the direction I want to be.
I just need a little help getting there.
Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your word.