It’s a couple of days after Christmas; the rich buttery aftertaste of those pressed spritz cookies has settled into a comfortable resting place in my midsection along with the turkey, mashed potatoes, pies, chocolates, ciders and not-so-skinny lattes that have been on rotation since Thanksgiving. Yes, I did “workout” once—walking around the neighborhood with my sister before the tryptophan set in. I crack open my laptop under my covers because it’s around this time of year that I start thinking that maybe I’ll try online dating for the umpteenth time. After all, it’s worked for several of my friends over the last couple of years. However, my “righteous” indignation fires up at all of the profiles I quickly scan of men looking for a woman who “takes care of herself,” “wants to work out with me at the gym,” “cares about health” etc. which I interpret as “please, only contact me if you are cute and/or toned.”
How can Christian men be so shallow and superficial? I murmur to myself, but I immediately regret the extra whipped cream I slathered on my peach cobbler earlier.
Then, I forcefully click the “X” on the entire browser to shut it down and decide instead to contact the guy friend I’ve had a secret crush on, knowing that he is a solid guy, not superficial like these online personas. I see if he wants to meet up, and he, of course, is super enthused, but can he bring along a friend? No! My stomach turns in knots. Of course, his “friend” is a woman he’s been seeing, and side-note: she’s a professional model. I think I’ll just stay in bed. New Year’s Eve arrives, and I reject all the thoughtful blogs on “The true meaning of the new year,” or “The Jonathan Edwards list of life resolutions” which are far more spiritual than my new goal to lose weight—the same goal hundreds across the country are writing down in their new notebooks as they hand over credit cards for gym memberships. If I can’t beat the shallow system, why not play the game?
Let me explain, now, the larger battle taking place in my heart and mind over the course of the last year. As a Christian, I experience these temptations, but I also possess the Holy Spirit who daily trains me in the theological game plan so that I have the wisdom to combat the attacks of the flesh: gluttony, lust, and jealousy. But the practical outworking of the knowledge is hard work. Ephesians says to “Put on the full armor of God so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.” Part of that armor is the sword, the Word of Truth, that gospel of our salvation that I must continually preach to myself to crush these sins.
Attack 1: Gluttony
A New Year’s Resolution to start a healthy lifestyle isn’t a bad thing (and, ladies, men are not necessarily shallow for wanting a woman who takes care of herself.). Right now, I’m in month eight of gradually cutting most of the junk food out of my regular diet, exercising on a daily basis, and adding more difficult strength training elements to my routine. What has changed about my resolution is my motivation. 1 Corinthians 10:31 says, “Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” When I’m on the treadmill, I sometimes smile and just thank God in the moment that He gave me healthy legs and lungs. When I’m tempted to kick that kettleball back in the closet, I think of the Proverbs 31 woman who “girds herself with strength, and makes her arms strong” (17) not so that she can take better pictures, but so that she can serve her family and community more effectively, and thus glorify God in her body. This lifestyle change has not yielded quick results, by any means, and I often get off track, but it reminds me of sanctification. It feels slow and arduous at times, but it is ultimately rewarding and satisfying. By the way, the diet isn’t all that distasteful either. I’m loving my banana soft serve with honey after a delicious spinach feta turkey burger and side of mashed cauliflower. God does not deprive us, but gives us everything to enjoy for His glory.
Attack 2: Lust
The sin I battle goes much deeper than the body, though. 1 Timothy 4:8 says that “bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things.” Even if I practice a healthier lifestyle and discipline my body, my mind and heart can easily slip into patterns of ungodliness if I feed on fleshly lusts. I can so easily become obsessed with the problems of appearance: my weight, misaligned teeth, chipped nails, gray hairs, etc. Then, I spitefully compare myself with other women, who seem to have it all together. What am I craving, I ask myself? Usually it’s approval and affirmation. James reminds us that we “ask and do not receive, because [we] ask with wrong motives, so that [we] may spend it on [our] pleasures.” The next verse is even more hard-hitting upon my conscience. “You adulteresses, do you not know that friendship with the world is hostility toward God?” I play the harlot before God when I prize the world’s approval over His. I must tell myself that I am a loved and chosen child of God. When I desire affirmation or desire the comfort of a man’s arms around me, kissing me and telling me that I’m beautiful, I must remind myself that my longings can only be truly fulfilled in the one true God. Psalm 139 paints a beautiful picture of His care. It says that He has “enclosed me behind and before, and laid [His] hand upon me.” He holds me in His omnipotent protection and love, never letting me go; He sees beauty in me not only because I am His unique creation—“He formed my inward parts”—but also because He sees the righteousness of Christ covering all my sin. Such truths dismantle the pride that engages lust.
Attack 3: Jealousy
That girl—the model? She’s a child of God too. Those women at church who appear as though beauty is effortless? God loves each of them with a special love. They are my sisters. They are hands and feet in the body of Christ; they are human, just like me, and wrestle with their own insecurities. Why would I, as another body part, waste my time comparing myself to any of them? Even now as I type, I see how my wrists help hold my hands steady as my fingers move swiftly across the keys. My elbows go unnoticed, but if I couldn’t bend my arms, my hands would have an extremely uncomfortable job typing. I could go on, but I create a small picture that reminds me that the gospel speaks of a unified body. Christ has redeemed for Himself a people (not a person) for His own possession (1 Peter 2:9). He has wonderfully and graciously made us different. If I believe in a sovereign and good God who is piecing us together for His glory, I will have no reason to compare. Instead, I will eagerly be proclaiming the excellencies of Him who called me out of darkness and into His marvelous light.
Knowledge doesn’t automatically remove my struggles in these areas. But I preach to myself, and the truth does indeed set me free. Yes, I am convinced that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it until the day of Christ.
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