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Disclaimer:  This post is in no way attempting to imply that being fat is a sin. That’s a debate for those with enough time on their hands. Teehee. That said…

So, I finally left Jamaica. (I can strike that off my list.) Being here in St. Lucia with my sister is pretty cool, but there’s just one problem: there are too many mirrors in this house, man. Everywhere I went, I could see myself. Seriously? Like, how many mirrors does one house need?

Point? I finally SAW how much weight I had put on. Now, I’ve never been small by any stretch of anyone’s imagination, but this is the heaviest I’ve been in my whole life. In the words of a dear friend of mine, “You’re huge.” Being fat has never bugged me. It has been a part of my life forever, and I was never around people who made me feel worthless as a result, so I guess it was easy to…well, not notice that I was REALLY packing on the pounds, man. (No, no, now is not the time to mention my almost obsessive aversion to shrinking.)

Like, you don’t see the weight going on…well, I didn’t. I rarely ever use a mirror, because I already know what I look like, and, though I don’t have a lot of clothes, I have enough to know what they look like on me. Now, let’s not be silly, of course I knew I was putting on weight. I could also tell that my newly-acquired inactive lifestyle (chores only require so much activity and no more) was affecting me. I used to dance several hours a week, now I can’t easily climb a flight of stairs. Fitness issue much.

So, how did we arrive at the title for the blog post? Sin is pretty much the same way. Just as I knew I was putting on weight, but not to what extent, we know we’re slipping from God and we often don’t realise just how much until we’ve done something we never thought we would do. Like, it’s maybe an ounce at a time, one little misdeed at a time, but we know we’re pretty far from where He wants us. Like, I live on a hill. If I wanted to exercise, I could have. In the same way, we know we can go to God and have Him shape us into His image, but we don’t, for whatever reason. Maybe we say it’s too late, or maybe we haven’t yet allowed that moment of truth.

My moment of truth came last week. How? I bought a scale (a really hot scale, too :P). Now, I had a vague idea how much I weighed, but maybe I was secretly hoping it was less, especially since I’ve been kinda eating properly since getting here. SO, hot scale’s electric blue LCD output hit me for six.

291

Yep, you saw right, Yanique. I used to joke that I’m pushing 300, but seeing it? No fun. I’ve joined a gym at last (we’ll save that for another blog post), and I walk more, so maybe there’s hope. We’ll see. Less about the numbers, and more about getting my health and fitness back. Anyway…

I know people who would probably slash their wrists if they got to my size, yet I’m pretty certain we’re not that vigilant about sin. We’re not that vigilant about the things that are pulling us away from God, one tiny step or giant leap at a time.

It’s not easy to get back on track, but it can be done. For example, I went to a circuit training class last week… A few minutes in, I was like, “I am dead.” Like, I literally said it. My arm muscles were shot and my thighs weren’t much better, but I made it! And, I’ll be going again this week.

So, maybe the road back to God is one tiny step at a time…maybe a crawl, but go. He’s always waiting, arms open. And He’s more patient and helpful than any trainer on the planet, even that nice one who told me, “Don’t watch the numbers, just do what you can.” (Man, did I ever say Amen!) Maybe you’re wondering how you’ll ever get back to where you were, but do what you can. It’s all by God’s strength, anyway, and His grace is greater than our every weakness.

All the best on your journey (back) to God’s heart. In the words of another dear friend of mine, “Let the Spirit guide you.”

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