I am going to my niece’s wedding September 1st, and I have no idea what I’m going to wear. I don’t own anything that is pretty, wedding-ish, and FITS. “Fits” being the operative word. Plus it’s going to be roaring hot and I’ve been instructed to wear cotton.
I’ve ordered a few free-returnable things online, so we’ll see how it goes, but at my current state, or weight, when looking at myself in the mirror, seeing pretty or even “good enough” is an iffy proposition.
My plans and programs and schemes and desires and efforts to lose weight have failed. I’m stuck. I’ve lost weight before, but I know this place only too well. I was talking to Jesus about this the other night. Again. Talking may not be the right word. Tears were involved. Not just about the wedding, obviously, but about the weight, when He said, “Wait.” As in, “Stop. Ask Me what I have to say.”
I opened up the Bible App on my phone, desperate to hear from Him, and this is the verse that was for the day:
Matthew 6:25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?”
Is not life more than food and the body more than clothes?
Okay. I knew He was speaking. I was so thankful that He’d been listening to me on this thorn-in-my-flesh subject yet again, but what did He mean by this?
Here’s where His Word landed in my heart: I get obsessed and preoccupied with my appearance and my failure to get my act under control. My weight begins to define me in my own heart. If I loved God more. If I was more obedient. If I ______ then I would be worthy of love and, in my darkest of moments, worthy of life. My body, He says, is important. He cares for our bodies. He thinks so much of them that He took one on Himself. He wants me and all of us to care for them. Nourish them. Move them.
But our bodies do not define us.
They are a gift to us in whatever state they are currently in, and He wants us—He wants me—to be grateful for it, to bless it, to care for it, and then to MOVE ON.
He doesn't want me obsessing about food. Being thoughtful and mindful, yes. But obsessing, no.
He’s going to put something on me for the wedding that will be just fine, and the only one thinking about how I look—is me. He wants me to stop panicking about it. To trust Him. To put things in their rightful order of importance.
The struggle with body image and for me—with food, as a currently very overweight woman—is a real and painful one. One worthy of speaking to and addressing and dismantling the world’s power in and the enemy’s condemnation over. It is one that requires the attention of Jesus and His healing presence.
But all I want to say today is that God cares. And though the size of my clothes matters to us both, they do not define me. What I eat matters much less than how much I love.
He loves me. He loves you, too. And He wants to be the center of my attention. The obsession of my heart. The love of my life. The One I dream about and look forward to and trust in and in whose heart I find my identity.
And that is a woman who is cherished and chosen and loved with a Plus-Sized LOVE.