Weighty Issues

I’m not an avid Oprah watcher. I’ve got my reasons – she’s just not my cup of tea anymore, yet here I am on a Monday afternoon fixated while I feed Lyla her umpteenth bottle for the day. (One a side note, my girl has a serious appetite, and I’m lovin’ it.)

Oprah’s sitting, talking to the camera alone. She says, “I cannot believe I am here still talking about my weight. I cannot believe it.” Yeah, I get that. I feel that way too. She talks about her anger with herself, her embarrassment, her excuses . . . I sigh. Yeah, I feel her there too. She talks about abusing food, something I am ALL too familiar with and about overeating often meaning that you are hungry for something else. She says she’s hungry for balance. It got me thinking. What am I hungry for?

For one, I am hungry for more balance too. My life feels so fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants lately. Yeah, yeah I just had a baby . . . no, I had a baby 3 months ago. Yes, we’ve had some issues with her eating which was quite stressful, but. . . BUT – it’s an excuse. I just don’t want to excuse my lack of motivation to exercise my tired, out of shape self. I know what to do; I just don’t seem to have the energy to do it.

I’m going to be in my baby sister’s wedding in January. She emailed me a picture of the dress, and I wanted to crawl under a rock. It’s not fat girl friendly. All the other bridesmaids including my other younger sister are thin. They’ll look great, and then there will be me. I just don’t know that I’ll be there by January. Lord, help me!

Which brings me to what I think . . . no, what I know I’m hungry for if I’m being real. I’m hungry for a more satisfying relationship with God, the sustainer, the all sufficient One. It’s not His fault things are the way they are between us. I know it’s mine. I want more than just Sunday mornings where my heart seems to want to jump out of my chest when I hear God’ word. Thanks to ladies like Kay Arthur and Beth Moore, I got hooked on the mystery and majesty of His Word some time ago. That’s not something you can just let go and forget about. I got spoiled. It’s like when you taste real macaroni and cheese (I know, I know – a food analogy, bear with me!) and then the box stuff. The box stuff is just plain gross compared to the real thing. It’s like that for me when I try to fill my God-shaped hole with other stuff – namely food. It’s just gross.

So here I am, Oprah, still talking about my weight too. I’ve got a long way to go still – balance to find, roads to run and grace to fall back on. Steady on.



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