Doctors are great. Doctors are great until they make you step on a scale and tell you how much weight you’ve gained since the previous year (even though you haven’t grown taller). I know I should be above this, but I can’t help but try to wear my lightest clothes for my annual weigh-in. And why is it that they insist that you keep your shoes ON when you step on the scale? HELLO! Those are extra unnecessary pounds that will forever be written on my record.
It’s funny, but I think many of us would be quicker to share our GPA, annual household income, or the number of white hairs we’ve found on our head, than to disclose our true weight. (insert collective *shudder*). Outwardly we’re really nonchalant about it. But when we go to friend’s homes and find a scale in their bathroom, do we not stare at it and secretly dare ourselves to find out what judgment day holds for us? Will it be a win for all woman-kind, or a meteoric loss? When we return to the dinner table, will we take on dessert as our just reward, or will we politely decline the soda/wine for the non-caloric water? …Or is that just me?
I’ve discovered over time that most women struggle with weight/body image. I think many of us have come to the same conclusion. If we all know this, then why does our culture promote this weird, “being concerned about your weight is sooo passé” mentality? I’m kind of shocked when I hear girls brag about being able to eat anything and everything without gaining a pound (when I know that they personally struggle with body image a lot). Or when girls welcome less-than-edifying jokes from guys about being “beasts” or “manly” because they would rather be disparaged by guys than be rejected by them. (As a side note for our male-subscribers: please don’t do that. Words hurt and women will never show it on the outside. Please think of your future daughters and how you’d want them to be treated. Please treat women as the cherished daughters of God that they are.)
Sisters, we’re all broken. Broken by wounds of the past, wounds of insecurity, and the lies that bombard us day and night. What would a godly sisterhood look like if we tried to mend each other’s wounds and promote a culture of safety and healing? Instead of bragging about how much we can eat and still fit into those tiny pants, what if we boasted about our insecurities and our effort to find worth in Christ? Instead of hiding our insecurities about our fluctuating body weight, what if tried to remain steadfast in the light of Christ and our sisterhood of believers? As God’s cherished daughters, let’s live as those who ARE cherished.
“…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” Isaiah 61:3