So, not every day is a happy day. Today I am mad at myself. Mad at my body. We are a month away from our family trip to Disney World and, truthfully [with brutal honesty], I was hoping that no sugar + P90X would help me drop a few more pounds before we go. I know it's selfish and doesn't really jive with the real purpose of my journey, but today is a day where I can't seem to be strong enough to keep it from getting to me. I can't lose weight. Come on, it's P90X and only 4 pounds? I've sweat buckets and nothing this week?
How do I do this? How do I pull the focus off my vanity? How do I feel loved in this body? The way I am? When everything in me has been taught that I am not successful or lovable unless I am thin? There is no nourishment for my soul today because I feel raw. I feel like no amount of self-control will ever bring the lean, healthy body I am longing for.
And that feels like the craving that's even bigger and badder than the chocolate. That's the "idol" I have been craving at the expense of my relationship with God. That "image" of me as a thin person is what I have been drooling for. I have put that before all else. It hurts to admit it.
My Top Ten Tuesday could be a list of ten diets I have poured my money and heart into and held my breathe in vain expectations that they would save me. But there are more than ten. And they are not wrong, in and of themselves, but I am wrong in my adoration of them. And they are not my Savior.
That's all I have for today. Just being real in my own pain that the numbers on a scale have come to be the measure of my worth.
