There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t beat myself up about my size.

I weigh somewhere around 205 pounds, give or a take a couple pounds depending on the day.  Go ahead…gasp, cringe, shake your head.  It’s a high number, and I know it.  And I don’t have any interest in pushing the “big is beautiful” notion that seems to lately be circulating through our society.  I definitely know that I am not at my healthiest (or most beautiful) size.

I considered only vaguely referencing my weight, but I thought it was important to not be vague, for a couple of reasons.  First, so that I can say that while 205 pounds is more than I should weigh, a healthy weight for me is still 160-170 pounds, a weight at which many people would still cringe, and at which the supposed standard of a healthy weight, the BMI, still considers me overweight.  This tall, big-boned, big-muscled frame of mine just won’t ever be the petite, size 2 ideal to which many people compare themselves.  The second reason I mention my weight is so that when I say that I can still slow-jog 2-3 miles, I can still do ten real push-ups (as opposed to modified, or “girl”, push-ups), and I can still give my 100 pound 12-year old a piggy back ride up the stairs, I can also (hopefully) assert that being capable of these tasks at 200-plus pounds demonstrates a level of fitness that, while not exemplary, is also not laughable.

So, what’s the point?  Why am I writing this at all?  I guess, for starters, it’s because there’s a lot more nuance to a person’s weight than whether they eat too much, or exercise too little.  It’s because of the frustration I’ve faced in trying to reach some ideal weight, but realizing just how much stress, and poor sleep, and who-knows-how-many unknown health factors can thwart even my best efforts.  It’s because of the feeling of failure when I know I’ve eaten more than I should, or am too tired to exercise, or can’t exercise because of old injuries that seem to resurface with too much regularity.  And it’s because in the face of all of these reasons and excuses and discouragements, more and more, God seems to be challenging me to see things differently.

There are aspects of weight issues that are also sin issues.  Overeating, laziness, even inordinate stress responses can be displeasing to God.  But there are also contributing factors to weight issues that are not sin – injuries, hormone imbalances, insomnia, and grief, to name a few.  What I’m becoming even more aware of recently, though, is that there are also aspects of maintaining a “healthy” weight that can also be sinful.  Anytime we idealize something, it can slip into idolatry if we’re not careful.  Likewise, I don’t think that eating and exercise should be topics that consume large chunks of our time.  God’s concern for our attitudes and actions is far greater than His concern for our outward appearance.  While there was a time (in college) that I exercised extensively and significantly restricted my diet, the time and effort that would take away from my family and other responsibilities now would be poor stewardship on my part.

There’s meant to be a balance, I guess.  I believe it matters to God that we are healthy and physically strong enough to fulfill whatever He has called us to do, but I don’t think that is something that a number on a scale, or a size on a pair of pants can appropriately reflect.  And if we achieve our weight or size goals, but miss the more important work of life, I think God is grieved.  Even more, if we are setting those weight and size goals because of what the world says is healthy or beautiful, then it can become so easy to miss out on the truth that God created each one of us on purpose, in His image, to reflect His glory.  Sin can mar that, certainly, but it isn’t sin that makes my calf muscles huge or my hair gray or my torso long.  Those were God’s choices in the unique design He had for me.  I may not always think they were good choices, but since I’m not God, I have to conclude that I’m wrong and He didn’t make a mistake when He made me.

And as much as I might get bothered by my failings, it is so important to also recognize that there is grace to cover my failings – not to excuse them, but to acknowledge that there’s a reason I need Jesus.  I’m not going to ever be able to get everything right.  And that puts me in the same boat as everybody else, size 2 jeans or not.