I’ve been fairly distraught lately. The cause of my mental anguish: the fit (or “non”-fit, more precisely) of my clothes. I’m not morbidly obese, nor do I engage in binge eating. In fact, as I begin approaching middle age, I’m more aware of genetic pre-dispositions to things such as diabetes and heart disease, and while I’m far from a health nut, I do try to make healthy choices when it comes to diet and exercise. However, one medical condition passed on to me via DNA is hypothyroidism, and there’s nothing I can control with regard to whether or not my thyroid gland produces an adequate supply of thyroid hormone. When it isn’t working properly, it wreaks havoc with my metabolism, and symptomatic of that is weight gain. As a woman in today’s society, it’s very difficult not to get caught up with body image and self-scrutiny.
On another seemingly unrelated note (but I promise- there really is a connection!), I’ve also found myself irritated by what I’ve perceived to be a lack of autumnal hues in the foliage this fall. Many of the vibrant crimsons and fiery oranges seem to be missing this season.
In short, it seems that I have, to some extent, been pining for the “good ol’ days”. The early days of my marriage, when my weight was ideal and I could easily wear a size 6/8… the days after Logan was born, when the pounds seemed to melt off as easily as they did when I was a teenager… the days of some “perfect” fall when red and orange leaves abounded… those “good ol’ days.”
In the midst of my lamenting and pouting, the Holy Spirit wraps his arms around me. He’s such a gentle corrector. In fact, when the epiphany first comes, I don’t even recognize it as mental course direction. Oh, but it is, and as I embrace it, it’ll have profound impact on my life and, I trust, on lives I touch. The phrase comes to mind, “It is what it is.” I’ve uttered those words before with a somewhat dismissive, almost apathetic attitude. This time, though, they have a different connotation. “It is what it is.” Right now. Here. The present. I’ll never be a 23-year-old bride again, and I’ll never be able to re-live some seemingly perfect season of my youth. I can try as hard as I might to construct some idyllic state of being as a means of fabricating some emotional state of well-being so that I can THEN enjoy life… but that won’t happen. The reason, I believe, that good memories linger is because they serve as a mile marker of a time when we truly embraced “now.” “It was what it was.” And right now is what it is. Right now, I’m a 36-year-old mother of two of the orneriest, most wonderful boys who ever were. Right now, I understand God’s love for me more than I ever have in my entire life. Right now, life has some rocky places, but they’re serving to make the journey that much more adventurous. It is what it is- it’s life!
Would you look at that! Those are red leave skittering across my back yard! J
