The scale. My eyes met his eyes for the first time in two months after I finally broke down and bought one for my own. It’s the only scale I’ve ever owned.
I’ve determined the scale fits under the male category for two reasons: It’s easier to blame him when we don’t get the results we want, and when we see good news in the numbers, we want to wrap our arms around him and waltz across the bathroom floor. No? Just me? That’s fine.
Anyway.. back to the scale. April 1, the start of a new month. In less than five seconds, I would have to determine how I would approach the results and whether or not I would allow it to ruin my day.

I gained six pounds. Yep.. That happened. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a mean April Fool’s joke from Hank. I decided to name my scale Hank. Nope, it wasn’t a joke. I got on again, but this time he told me I was one pound lighter than two minutes prior. Of course I’m going with the last scale reading. What woman wouldn’t?

Does this count as a failure?

I took a deep breath, walked to the kitchen and started my daily routine as normal. Make a cup of coffee, do the dishes, feed the dog, and put my gluten-free waffle in the oven. Then I sat down and opened my journal.

I’m a little bummed this morning, but I won’t stay down. I have to put this in perspective. Two weeks before I moved I was eating horribly. Stressed. Tired. Scared. All emotions. I don’t even want to know how much weight I really gained. The first two weeks here were up and down. I was sick, thanks to stress, and couldn’t work out for the first week, and I was trying to get back into a routine. BUT… the last two weeks have been better. I’ve made better eating choices, and this week has been the best! So… I will just keep on going. Keep on treating my body like a temple. God is not disappointed and I won’t be either.

Stasi Eldredge writes in her book, Becoming Myself: Embracing God’s Dream of You, “I am not a failure as a human being or as a woman. In some core place deep within, I know this. I fail, yes. But I am not a failure. I disappoint. But I am not a disappointment.
I got off track, again. But today I’m on track and today is all I have to focus on. After all, we only fail when we stop trying, right? I’m too stubborn to quit.

Shame is not an agent of change.

There was a time I would’ve allowed that number on the scale define me. I would voluntarily jump into the spiraling tornado of shame and take a trip around the world, finally landing back in Kansas when I felt I’d punished myself enough.
Shame didn’t change me. It didn’t make me want to do the right thing. It didn’t help me take the next right step. No, it took be backwards. I had to fight hard to get out of the cycle.
Knowing I am loved by God changes me. Knowing without a doubt He is for me and not against me causes my heart to want to change. To live for Him. To let go of the bondage and lies Satan tries to write on my heart and forehead telling me food will always control me.
When we know we are truly loved by the God who created us, who isn’t disappointed in us, who doesn’t look at us with disgust, our desire to be obedient increases.
Stasi says, “Our transformation begins when we believe we are loved. “ Do you believe you are loved?
You are, my friend. You. Are. Loved
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[reminder]What are you doing today to be reminded of God’s love for you? [/reminder]