where waves grow sweet

I’m not one to weigh myself. A number on a scale seems so absolute, taking into account only one of so many variables that equal good health and fitness. And yet, I can be strangely influenced by its power; uplifted when it’s a number I like and disheartened when it’s not – perhaps a throwback to when I misconstrued weight to mean something more than it does. For these reasons, I haven’t felt the need to interact with a scale on a regular basis and certainly not to own one.

That’s not to say I don’t care about the shape or health of my body. I do. I try to eat well, take daily walks and give my body the rest and care it needs to thrive. There are plenty of times when I fail to do these things and eventually feel the result in my flagging energy levels, compromised immune system or very tight pants. Rather than seeing my body as an enemy and becoming a tyrant to it as in years past, I now attempt the more loving approach of figuring out what’s been fueling the wrong choices and partnering with my body to make better ones. There is a real rest and joy evolving from this connected kindness; getting in sync with myself, I guess you’d say.

Last year, after one too many times of showing up at the airport with an overweight suitcase, I bought a scale; a slim silver one that now resides in my bathroom for lack of a better place. I can now pack the big suitcase I use for long trips with confidence that I’m under that 50 pound limit. I had no intention of using it for myself, but I’ve noticed a funny thing. If I’ve suddenly been very virtuous with my eating and exercise, I find myself hopping on to see what I weigh, expecting to be rewarded with a pleasing number. The rest of the time, I pretend it’s not even there. It’s not really a conscious choice, but in the back of my mind, there must be a belief that it’s likely to make me feel bad about myself.

How similar is this to how we often interact with God? When we have behaved particularly well in some area, we jump into his lap for the ‘well-deserved’ affirmation we expect to hear. When we feel like we’ve compromised or straight-up failed to be who we want to be or think we should be, we avoid God like a scale after a week-long binge. We have a belief tucked away that when we approach Him, He will weigh us and find us wanting, which will make us feel bad about ourselves and sink us into condemnation. So we keep our distance – maybe act too busy or distracted or simply pretend He’s not there – until we’ve had a chance to clean ourselves up, get some things right and maybe slim down on our sin. But that’s just a throwback to the old covenant of the law, which could only say whether we had done right or wrong – and judge us accordingly.

But the new covenant of grace says, “Come! Come with your failures and your heartbreak and your disappointments and your suitcases full of sin. Come with your hopes and your fears and your victories and your defeats. Come as you are!”  We won’t be weighed and found wanting because every single time we draw near, God weighs the perfect righteousness of Jesus and says we are enough. As we begin to experience His kindness and cease viewing Him as a threat or enemy, we will find ourselves getting in sync with the heartbeat of Love found through grace. And, bit by bit, we will be transformed into the people we always wanted to become but never could… not just people who behave well, but people who live abundant lives of wholeness and freedom. “Is anyone thirsty? Come and drink–even if you have no money! Come, take your choice of wine or milk–it’s all free!” (Isaiah 55:1 NLT)