i want to fit in my pants

We are almost through week one of the new year. Hello, 2012.

Did you make any resolutions? To be honest, I didn’t spend much time pondering “the big picture,” reflecting on how I could improve my character or planning a strategy to make sure I stop and smell the roses.

No, my resolution, if that’s what you want to call it, is to fit in my pants. Not just any pants. My new pants. The pants that were purchased at the end of November. November 2011. The pants that fit perfectly. The pants I was going to wear with my patent leather pumps. But it’s hard to rock the pumps in pants that don’t fit.

Perhaps I went slightly overboard on the rolls and cream cheese and cookies and I’m going to stop there. So the pants don’t fit, and I’m on a calorie-counting, treadmill-running mission to make them work.

Almost through week one of my reformed junk habits, I managed to survive without eating a student…I’m definitely on the right track. Although I do cringe when I think about this time last year. I was running almost 20 miles, training for my marathon. This week, I was lucky if I could squeak out two. But it’s such a great picture.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit, he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit…I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” – John 15:1-2 & 5

Abiding. Remaining in Christ. Growing. Loving God and loving others. And Jesus said it best, “apart from me you can do nothing.” So I have to stay connected. Connected to God. He is going to take away, and he is going to prune. I’ve mentioned this before, but pruning hurts. Although pruning hurts, it produces great results.

It’s like starting back at the gym. I run, I lift, I yoga. And the first week, I’m sore. You know the kind of sore I’m talking about, so sore you can hardly sit down on your toilet. My muscles ache, but it’s almost a good ache. An ache that proves I’m actually working a muscle — a muscle that has been idle for too long.

Working out requires dedication, effort. It hurts. But if I stay connected, boy, do I get results, and it’s almost like I enjoy working out (that may be the endorphins talking).

Thanks God, for giving me a real-life picture of my walk with you. I want to stay committed, connected, even when I’m tired and even when I’m sore. And even when I eat too many rolls to count, I can always come back to you. Because, let’s face it, I want to fit in my pants.

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