“You look so confident!” my sister wrote, tapping little emoji hearts onto the before-and-after photos I’d texted her way. To my surprise, a tinge of disappointment soured her words of encouragement. I didn’t want her to say I looked confident. I wanted her to tell me I looked different, like I’d worked hard, that I’d lost weight, that she could see the difference in my body from six months ago. But… why did that matter so much? Wasn’t confidence a better goal, anyway? Conviction set in. What most needed transforming was my heart.
Magazine covers and fitness reality TV inspire a lot of us to try to change our image. We plunge in, experimenting with a new diet or dusting off that gym membership. Slim equals successful in our culture, and it seems distinctly either/or. Either I’m fit and fabulous, or I’m a flabby failure. This false equation results in disordered thinking, eating, and emotional attachments as we swap the balanced, kind care of our God-given bodies for the pursuit of cultural constructs of beauty and fitness.
I’ve lost weight before. Gained it back. Lost it again. Through that harrowing yoyo of self-discipline, I’ve learned that lasting change won’t come by just adding diet and exercise. Like the gospel outworking in our lives, it simply isn’t enough to layer positive behaviors on top of an unchanged heart. That doesn’t work in our faith, and it’s no more effective in other facets of our life. What if we could see our health, holistically, as a counter-cultural journey toward wholeness? Jesus loves all of you, no matter what the scale says or how you feel about it—no matter if you feel well-adjusted or struggle with disordered thinking. The size of your body is not inversely proportional to the size of your faithfulness. You are not your body. You are so, so much more.
We don’t get a pass on mindful, healthy choices to care for “the temple.” When we’re following Jesus in a physical body, nutrition and movement are important tenets of self-care. We won’t do it “perfectly.” Some days, the only stretches we do will involve reaching for chocolate—which is sometimes exactly what both body and spirit need for nourishment. We don’t have to do it perfectly, and releasing ourselves from that pressure gives us room to abide in Jesus and trust our body as it tells us what we need.
Looking a certain way isn’t the goal. No magic number on the scale can guarantee perfect health and increased self-confidence. It’s about abiding. How do I partner with both Jesus and my body to rightly prioritize caring for myself well? When we’re transformed inside—in our relationship with our bodies, with food, with our emotions, with God—the difference spills over to the outside. This may or may not look the way we want (I will never be a supermodel), but this kind of integration is oh so powerful. “People look at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart” (I Samuel 16:7).
If you’re looking for before-and-after photos… well, I think I won’t post those. Not to be snarky, but I don’t need anyone doing the comparison and telling me I look “better” than I did before. The body I’m in will fluctuate and change with my age, goals, motivation, and life stage. And it’s okay. It’s the inside change I’m most proud of… and I’m not done yet.
Disclaimer: I’m not a dietician, a therapist, nutritionist, or medical professional. These observations are what I’ve learned from my own personal experience. Although I hope my words encourage you to seek Jesus with your whole self, your story will be different. Isn’t our uniqueness amazing?
