Fit, Fat, and the Temple of the Living God

This morning I walked through a weekly ritual. I locked the bedroom door, took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped onto the bathroom scale.

The number on the scale was right around the same as it has been. No change.

Then, with another deep breath, I went to my dresser and got out my tape measure. I wrapped it around my body in all the different places. With each new wrap I noted the numbers, right around the same as they have been. No change.

I've been doing this dance for more than a month at this stretch, but in reality, it's been a lifelong endeavor - the effort to make this body of mine change into something I can more fully appreciate.

For the last month or so, I have watched my calories carefully, been drinking more water (although still not the gallon I should be drinking every day), and committed myself to being more active.

I tried going low carb/carb cycling, with disastrous results. It didn't make me lose weight, but it did make me an emotional and psychological train wreck. Not everything is for everybody, apparently.

However, carb cycling or no, physical laws dictate that a calorie deficit over a prolonged period of time should lead to weight loss.

Apparently, I'm a law breaker.

Also, for the last 3 years, I've been taking supplements that, typically, aid people in weight management (if that's what their bodies need). They've changed my entire life, helping me through two pregnancies, and giving me back energy and great sleep when I thought I'd never feel great again. But unlike others, I haven't lost weight.

Recently, because of all this difficulty, I started to look into weight loss surgery. I mean, the weight HAS to come off somehow right? The temple of God, the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, can't STAY fat, can it? I can't just stay this way forever...right?

But wait. Why not? What is truly at the heart of my desperation to lose weight and be thinner?

Other people's opinions. 

My "target audience" may have changed some over the years, but it doesn't really change the fact that I'm worried about how my body looks because of how I might be perceived. Now, as I sit on the cusp of some sort of ministry, I fear how those listening will think about my witness.

Will they ignore my words because they think I'm a hypocrite? As I speak about identity, calling, and purpose, will my message get lost because, to the world, my body screams louder "gluttony" and "sloth"?

Maybe, but those are really the wrong questions. They're firmly rooted in pride and selfishness. What if we change it up a bit?

What if, instead, the question is, "If I'm doing everything reasonable to take care of my body, and it still looks this way, is there a possibility God wants it to look this way?"

It almost sounds like an impossibility, given the aversion to fat in our society. Weight loss is practically synonymous with piety, and there are entire ministries (even churches) devoted to the practice.

I'm not knocking those things. Some of them are amazing, Biblically-focused ministries that help people regain a healthy perspective on food and their bodies. I think they're great, but I also think one very important component is missing from the discussion: my body is holy, just the way it is.

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters,

in view of God's mercy,

to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,

holy and pleasing to God-

this is your true and proper worship.

Romans 12:1

I used to read that verse and feel pressure and shame, thinking, in order for my body to be a holy and pleasing sacrifice, it needed to look different; or at least, I needed to be moving in the right direction. It felt like the Holy Spirit had to just be ACHING to live in a body that was thinner and more pleasing to God.

But y'all, that is just crap theology, and let me tell you why.

Before I was saved by the blood of Christ, there was nothing in the world I could do, no matter how "good" I was (or how good I looked) to make my body "holy and pleasing to God." Apart from God, none of it is good enough.

But, as soon as I recognized sacrifice of Christ in my life, my body became holy and pleasing. I was washed clean, and nothing can change that.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ,

he is a new creation.

The old has passed away;

behold, the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

I'm doing what I can to be healthy, but even if I wasn't, even if I was stewarding my body poorly, that would be sad, and God might work through the Holy Spirit to convict me and change my path, but my body would still be holy and pleasing to Him because it's covered by the blood of Christ. 

And that is precisely why I present my body as a sacrifice, because He has saved me and made me pure, no matter what. His great forgiveness, grace, and mercy inspire me to make changes because He has made me clean when no amount of my own behavior could do it.

Furthermore, there is no place in the Bible that says God prefers one body type over another. What it DOES say, however, is that God doesn't look at physical appearance, but at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). He says that I have been remarkably and distinctly made, knit together in my mother's womb, that He sees me, knows me, and loves me (which is a whole conglomeration of verses - if you want references, let me know). 

Maybe, just maybe, my body looks just like it should at this moment in time, in His timing and for His purposes. Maybe, "All things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28) REALLY means "all things" and my appearance is part of that.

Maybe, just maybe, I can look just like I do, and still be walking in God's will, or even, actively fulfilling a purpose in it.

Maybe, if I finally learn to accept my body in this moment, just as it is, God can use me to inspire someone else to see themselves as God sees them - as fully known, seen, and loved. Then maybe, just maybe, they can inspire someone else, too.

And those "maybes" are enough for me.

Plot Twist

What is it about your favorite book or story that makes it your favorite? Seriously. Think about it. I'll wait. *insert Jeopardy music here*

My friend John-Erik Moseler often says, "Just remember, all your favorite stories have plot twists," and he's right. Our favorite stories ARE our favorites because good triumphs over evil, the hero prevails, or the couple overcomes insurmountable obstacles. 

What we often fail to comprehend is that it's the very presence of evil, enemies, and obstacles that brings life to those stories, and that otherwise, they wouldn't be very interesting at all.

A good pot of beans is bland and, honestly, pretty gross without some meat, salt, and pepper (at the very least) to flavor it. But once, my hand slipped and I added FAR too much pepper. It made the entire pot completely inedible. 

Plot twists add flavor to our lives, but we also often have the ability to control whether we allow them to season our days well or make them completely "inedible."

 The last few days, I've experienced a plot twist of sorts - not one of the ginormous tragic ones, but instead, one that just seems to shift everything. Words are said, truths and feelings are revealed, and suddenly you find yourself at a crossroads of sorts.

For those of you who don't know me well or haven't known me long, I'm a fighter. I don't mean that in the positive sense, either. Words are my gift, but that also means I can spew venom and spit fire in the worst of ways when I feel backed into a corner.

But I'm also a work in progress - a new creation in Christ Jesus, becoming more like Him every day. So this time, I handled my plot twist in a different way. I went to church, spoke to a mentor, and most importantly, sought out time alone with God.

I drove to Fort Monroe yesterday, thinking I was going to seek God on the beach. I parked gathered my things and began to walk towards sand and waves, but it just didn't feel right. I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, turned in a couple circles, ad decided to go back to the car. I didn't know where God wanted me to go, but I knew it wasn't there.

I followed God's leading to another beach parking lot, but instead of going towards the beach, I walked in the other direction, under the shade of a tree, watching the slow, quiet waters of the fort "moat." And there, I prayed and studied God's word.

And He met me there, powerfully.

He reminded me through His word, while I stared at an old fort, that He is my strong tower, my stronghold, my fortress. 

He reminded me there in the shade that I rest in the shadow of His mighty wings.

He reminded me, as I sat in the grass by the water, that He is my shepherd who makes me lie down in green pastures and that he leads me beside quiet waters.

He reminded me that He will always lead me down the right paths for the sake of whatever brings Him glory, and that should be my aim.

He reminded me that, in Him, I have everything I need.

He quieted my soul.

I don't know where your story right now: if you're fresh off a plot twist, drowning in the middle, or on your way in. I don't know if your plot twist is a tiny turn or an implosion. But friend, what I DO know is that you have a choice in how you handle it. You have a choice in your perspective.

We all have different stories, but the same choice: who we allow to be the author. Personally, I choose Him - my Creator, the One who knows the beginning and the end. I am merely a character in His story, but I trust Him enough to know He'll write a far better version than I could ever imagine.

Who's writing your story? Are you muddling through, trying in every earthly way to make the next right turn? Or are you trusting God to guide your path, knowing He can take you places in this adventure that are beyond your wildest dreams?

We all have plot twists. How will you handle yours?

On the Edge of the Promise: The Right Battles with the Right Focus

In Community Bible Study this year, we studied Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. I have to admit, when we started, I was not overly enthusiastic. Nevertheless, as we began studying, I saw multiple parallels in my life and the journey of Moses and the Israelites.

Because of those parallels, now that CBS is over, I decided I should probably continue into Deuteronomy. Might as well follow journey to its conclusion, right?

This morning, God showed me a verse I would previously have easily ignored and gave me not just one lesson, but TWO.

God is so faithful.

When you get close to the Ammonites,

don't show any hostility to them or provoke them,

for I will not give you any of the Ammonites land as a possession;

I have given it as a possess to the descendents of Lot.

This too used to be regarded as the land of the Rephaim.

The Rephaim lived there previously,

though the Ammonites called them Zamzummim,

a great and numerous people, tall as the Anakim.

The Lord destroyed the Rephaim at the advance of the Ammonites,

so that they drove them out and settled in their place.

Deuteronomy 2:19-21

First, let's talk about what's going on here. The Israelites have defied God and failed to trust in Him numerous times, but none with such dire consequences as turning back from the Promised Land because they were afraid of its inhabitants. That defiance was costly: all but two people from the entire generation would pass away before their children would take possession of the land.

God's promises would still be fulfilled, but they wouldn't see it.

Now, that faithless generation has died and, having already won a couple of the battles God would have them face, the next generation stands at the brink of the Promised Land...and God has Moses give them a little history lesson.

First. in verse 19, it's very clear that God told them precisely which fights to pick and which ones to avoid altogether. At the end of Numbers, He very specifically outlined the borders of the Promised Land for them, and this land was not included. This is someone else's promise.

Where in your life are you picking the wrong battles? Where are you ignoring the voice of God that says, "That's not your fight"? Where are you coveting someone else's promise?

When we fight the wrong battles, we lose very precious time and energy, and consequently, instead of facing our own battles healthy, we stagger into them already bloodied and torn. Instead of facing the fight with our armor secure, weakened hands grip our shields of faith and tattered threads hold up our belts of truth. The victory may still be won, but not without undue pain and sacrifice.

Second, in verses 20-21, God wants Moses to clearly illustrate to His people that He's done it before, and He'll do it again. There were giants in the land Lot's descendants inhabit, but "The Lord destroyed the Rephaim at the advance of the Ammonites." The Lord made a promise, and HE fulfilled it.

Lot's descendants had faith that God would fulfill His promise to them. They didn't look at the so-called giants they faced, but at the God who faced the giants with them. God wanted his people to see the stark contrast of faith verses fear. Lot's descendants walked in faith, while the Israelites' previous generation walked in fear, despite God's many miracles and blessings.

Where in your life are you looking at the giants before you instead of the God who faces the giants with you?

There is one thing that is sure, no matter the giants in front of you, now or in the future, our God is bigger than them all.

So be strong and courageous!

Do not be afraid

and do not panic before them.

For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you.

He will neither fail nor abandon you.

Deuteronomy 31:6

Flaunting My Flaws

"I know I'm not supposed to think this way," I mused to Josiah recently, "but reading what she wrote makes me never want to write again. It's so good!"

He gave me a sobering look: "I'd imagine that's how a lot of people would feel about your writing."

The words were just a little sharp, and they cut me - not in a harmful way, but like a skilled surgeon cutting out a malignant growth - painful, yet necessary.

Today, he and I had a conversation about singing. Often, when I'm listing my strengths, skills, or gifts, I list speaking, teaching, and writing. Almost every time, Josiah pops in from the side to add singing to the list.

"Why do you do that?" I asked today. "I sing okay, but I'm just not that great."

His answer, again, surprised me and changed my perspective. He didn't tell me I was the next American Idol or contender on The Voice. He didn't applaud my skill.

Instead, he said, "When you sing, it connects with people. You connect with people. So, it's not just a talent, it's a gift. I think God wants you to use it. It may not look like what you think or hope it will, but I think God will use it." 

Oh my prideful heart.

Later, I was talking with a friend about our writing. We talked about the editing process and how we go about it.

We also both admitted to secretly being relieved or happy when we find the typos of incredibly gifted writers, not because we applaud a perceived failure, but because it makes us see those people as a little more human. It gives us hope that maybe, just maybe, it's okay not to be perfect.

And then it made sense.

This picture of perfection we're all striving for - whether it be the cleanest house, the most brilliant blog post, or the voice of an angel - is completely pointless.

I've got news for you: there's always someone better, and if there isn't, give it a minute - there will be.

However, there's also someone looking up to you, a person just behind you or who's just starting out. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to lay it all on the line and show your human frailties and imperfections, then you're inspiring that next better person.

And by doing that, you might just change the world, one inspiring typo or flat note at a time. 

After all, God didn't say His power was perfected in our strengths, but in our weaknesses.

So now, I'm flaunting my flaws. God doesn't need perfection; He's already got that. God needs my willingness to try my best and be authentically the person He made me. I'll leave the rest to Him.

But He said to me,

"My grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,

so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

This One is Not for You

When did I stop creating and start producing?

When did I decide that popularity or people's opinions trumped self-expression?

When did I decide to prostitute my art for the formulaic "devotion" I thought people wanted to read?

When did I sell my soul in the name of ministering to the souls of others?

My daughter shared a YouTube video with me the other day called Lighthouse - song and spoken word combined - that broke my heart in a million tiny pieces, but also lit the kindling left on fire. A million questions like the ones above rose up like smoke from the flames: dense. They choked me and burned my eyes

"I've never watched," Danielle Bennett says, "but I can tell I'm beautiful when I'm writing...."

Those words. I cannot even describe the longing they evoked...to just write. 

I love words. I'm passionate about words, but lately, the well dried up because I deemed my heart not worth sharing if I couldn't wrap it up neatly, stick a bow on it, and label it with a Bible verse and a catchy title.

If I couldn't write something that I felt would impact people for Jesus or teach them a lesson, then I decided it wasn't worth writing.

I have a vision board with hand lettered quotes. One of them says, "Start writing - no matter what. The faucet does not flow until the faucet is turned on."

Every day I look at it...and how many times have I written? Twice. 

Two. Times.

But now, it's time to prime the pump.

I've been waiting for a supernatural message to tell me what to write, so I could then put words on a page, but guess what, God can't steer a vehicle I'm not driving.

Writing is not something I do. It's not something I decided I wanted to try and maybe it'll work out or maybe it won't, depending upon the number of followers I get or who wants to read my posts.

Writing is WHO I AM, and I cannot wait to be me again. I am bursting at the seems.

I want to write. I want to speak. Why? For no other reason than to make beautiful music with the words that drip from mind and mouth.

Because alliteration makes my heart hear magical melodies.

Because metaphors are life.

Because I love the way words can float on the air like bubbles on a warm summer day, drifting down and popping gently on the listeners nose, or they can pound a stake in hard, frozen ground with a deafening clang that leaves readers breathless, speechless, and changed.

Because I have another quote on my dream board that says, "Be fearless in pursuit of what sets your soul on fire," and I am tired of walking in fear and timidity and oh so ready to walk in the power and promise of all that God has made me to be.

That's me: words pouring from a faucet and a soul raging in passionate flames. What the heck. If the Holy Spirit can be both fire and water, so can I.

I'm stepping into my muchness. This is my manifesto. This blog post is not for you...unless it is.

Unless you, too, are weary of the need for perfect performance or the prettiest instagram page. For $100 they'll teach you to fetch the followers, feed the fans, and fan the flame of self-promotion, but they forget to share the tiny writing on the bottom line that says you might just sell your soul in the process.

Not this girl. Not today, Satan.

I'm taking me back, and ya know what? She's not perfectly branded, but she is perfectly imperfect, and in a world full of fake perfection - in tones of blush, mint, and pearl - a little blood, blond, and dirt might stand out just fine.

I'm on the road to the real me with a pretty sign that says, "Authenticity or Bust" slapped on the back of the van, and it's taking passengers, so if you're ready, hop on board.

It's going to be a wild ride. 

Rejecting the Gift

Picture this...

You've put together a beautiful gift for your kids. You planned for an incredibly long time. You saved. You sacrificed. Then, the day comes for you to reveal this amazing gift, and not just a gift they want, but a gift they desperately NEED. Your heart is in it. Your soul is in it. You can't wait to see how blessed they are by it!

But they reject it.

Some of them just can't really figure it out. They don't really understand it. So you think, maybe later.

But others see it, understand it, and pick it up and look at it...only to toss it aside to run off and play in the trash heap.

Painful, right? Heart-breaking. That's how I've been treating God's grace.

Grace is the word the Holy Spirit planted in my heart to focus on this year. I've been studying it, thinking about it, trying to figure out how to walk in it. It's a journey.

But then...

Last Saturday, Josiah and I took part in a service project with our life group. On the way home, someone sent me a picture of the group...and I was mortified.

Despite the fact that I said I was going to start appreciating my body...
Despite the fact that I promised myself I would stop hating it...
Despite the fact that I told myself I would be KIND to me...

I was deeply ashamed and utterly disgusted.

I went pretty far down the rabbit hole that day. Hell hath no fury like a person hell-bent on self-flagellation. No matter what Bible verses came to mind or what Josiah said, I rejected it. I said I deserved to be ashamed, and I deserved to be punished. And if God wouldn't do it, then I would.

That night, I sat in church, empty. I felt like I'd completely bled myself dry. And then, the pastor got to 1 Corinthians 6:19-20:

Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the

Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?

You are not your own,

for you were bought with a price.

So glorify God in your body.

And I broke. I poured all my pain out on the altar. I couldn't even pray. I just sobbed and let the worship music crash into me and over me like waves.

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.
Oh, it chases me down, fights 'til I'm found, leaves the 99.
And I couldn't earn it, and I don't deserve, still you give yourself away.
Oh, the overwhelming, never, ending, reckless love of God.

There's no shadow you won't light up, mountain you won't climb up,
coming after me.
No wall you won't kick down, lie you won't tear down,
coming after me.

Finally, I made it to a prayer partner and asked her to pray over me, and she did, until at last, peace came to me.

But the next day, I knew I couldn't just let it go. I was grateful to have been given the peace, but I know my Father well enough to know He is never without waste. I'm supposed to learn something.

So, back down the rabbit hole I went, but this time with a rope called the Word of God.

But time and again that day, I was drawn to search out people's theological opinions on whether MY BODY is a sin. I found myself desperately wanting to confirm my deepest feelings that my body, in its current state was sinful and wrong and shameful.

I mean, sure, God created it, and it WAS good but I've destroyed it, right?

What if I can't lose weight? I have PCOS, so I'm insulin resistant, and it's really hard to lose weight. Is it a sin for me to stay the way I am?

I know people who are insulin resistant often need to watch their cards and the glycemic index. How do I know what I can eat? Is it a sin for me to ever eat carbs? Is it a sin for me to eat ice cream EVER?

But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find sound theological justification for the theory. Just as a child born from a sinful act is not shameful or dirty, but a gift from God, my body, though some sin may have led to its current form, is NOT sinful. It's not shameful. It's a gift.

Nevertheless, each new line of questioning sent me down another trail that inevitably ended with "My body isn't good enough." Even when I was simply trying to make a plan for HOW to care for and respect my body in a way that honored the Spirit within it, I got confused and continued to feel overburdened and ashamed.

Why? Two reasons.

First, it is impossible to properly care for and show love to anything you think is shameful, disgusting, and unworthy. You can try, but the truth will seep out, in one way or another.

Second, and more critically, I realized I have no clue how to actually walk in grace. I have always felt the need to punish myself mentally and emotionally for any mistake or transgressions.

When I was praying with my mentor Saturday night, I told her I knew God had already broken the chains I was wearing, but they were mine, a piece of me, and I wasn't sure I knew how to or if I wanted to be rid of them.

She said, "Okay, I'll tell you what. The next time you go to the gym, before you get on the treadmill, put 200 lbs of chains around your neck. Then get on and see how far you get."

As I searched for Scripture the next day, I came upon Hebrews 12, and here is where I'm going to get a little unorthodox. I was deeply affected by the WHOLE chapter, but I don't want to type all that out here. Instead, I'm going to share with you the message God gave to me as I walked through the chapter, and I'm praying you'll read the scripture directly for yourself.

God said:

I have a plan for you, Alissa; I have a path I need you to walk down. It's not an easy path, nor is it short, so in order to walk it you're going to need to take off the chains and straighten up.

You're walking slumped over, your knees buckling beneath the weight of your own condemnation. You can't possibly keep your eyes on me that way, and you certainly can't walk straight on My path. 

Trust me. Get rid of those chains and trust in my love. Don't reject my grace, the beautiful gift I've given you through my Son. I sacrificed for you. Don't toss it away as meaningless and run off to play in the trash heap of lies.

Do you know the gift I've given you?? Esau didn't. He sold his birthright for a single meal. Please don't toss away your rights as my daughter for the momentary illusion that you have control.

Don't place yourself under a law I've set you free from. Don't set arbitrary rules for yourself so that you're still a slave to your own rewards and punishments. 

If you want to eat, ask me what you should eat. If you want to know how much to eat, ask me to tell you when you're finished and to give you the courage to obey.

My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinth. 12:9)

You're weak. That's okay. Instead of making rules for yourself, trying to rely on your own strength to keep them, lean on me, and I'll show you a power and a peace you cannot even comprehend. Let me be glorified because where you can't, I CAN.


Friends, let me tell you: I still struggle. Changing deeply held beliefs is a process. For just about my entire 40 years, I have felt like I wasn't good enough, in so many ways, and I needed to be punished for it.

What I've been missing is that there's only been ONE who's ever been good enough, and He sacrificed Himself for me. Jesus completes me. He fills all my holes and shortcomings, so that I am ALWAYS enough.

And through Him, so are you.

Morning Mercies

Last night, as I took a scalding hot shower to try to wipe off the stench of my hideous behavior, the hateful words I'd spoken rang loudly in my ears. This morning, I can still hear their echo.

Ironically, one of the things I told yelled at my son yesterday was, "You can't take words back. You can apologize, but your words drive a nail into someone's heart, and when you remove the nail, you still leave a jagged, bleeding hole."

Not only did I scream that at him, but I pounded my fist into my other palm for added effect. He had disrespected me and then really wounded his sister with his words, so apparently, I was going to teach him an excellent lesson by highlighting some very wise words with my some really horrible behavior.

I then went on to nail some more holes into my husband. Over and over and over, almost uncontrollably, I hammered them in. He was so brave in light of it all, so honorable. The Holy Spirit in Him was strong, and he gave grace when I needed it the most.

This morning, the shame of my behavior still clings to me, like an oily film even a scalding shower can't wash off. There is just so much remorse.

However, my God is faithful, even in these moments. His voice whispers to me, "My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Corinth 12:9).

The Holy Spirit reminds me His mercies are new each morning (Lamentations 3:22-23).

And, when I sought a devotion this morning about my anger, He brought me to Unglued, by Lisa TerKeurst, and this verse wrapped its arms around my soul:

For, I, Yahweh your God,

Holy your right hand.

and say to you: Do not fear,

I will help you.

Isaiah 41:13

Do not be afraid. I'm holding your hand. I will help you. 

I let out a relieved sigh. Thanks be to God.

I need help in so many areas right now. My temper seems to have a mind of its own. My house is topsy turvy. Our homeschool days are dreary. My business needs new life.

But in all things, there He is. His grace is sufficient. His mercies are new each morning. He is with me, holding my hand.

And I am grateful.