My boss said, when I was first getting adjusted to my current job, that I over-think things. That’s always been the case.
I remember once I wondered (as five-year-old child, floating in the bathtub and looking at the ceiling instead of scrubbing myself clean), “Why does the word ‘fork’ mean ‘fork’?”
Scary, I know, and in most situations, a waste of time. But, for whatever reason, it’s what I’ve always done.
Currently, now that I have found an answer to a perplexing long-term problem, I am over-thinking the idea that God, in whom I believe and to whom I pray, has actually allowed me to find the answer.
As a Christian of the small-o orthodox type (neither liberal nor fundamentalist), I believe that spiritual growth comes more often out of suffering and struggle than out of having tons of fun.
Simplistically speaking, it’s like an athlete progressing more by getting out and facing physical challenges than by hanging out at Pizza Hut.
That analogy does complete injustice to the reality of suffering and struggle in our fallen world, doesn’t it?
Anyway, after a decade of struggling with my weight, and developing sleep apnea in the process, and learning about low-carb eating, and getting onboard with it intellectually, but never quite being able to actualize it in my own life, I have finally found a way to low-carb that makes sense to me and for me, and as a result, I have begun to lose weight, and I feel and think better, except that I also feel paranoid about this blessing.
Did I mention that I’m a Scotch-Irish Presbyterian? I’m not particularly dour, and I have been known to dance on Sunday, but the apparent reality of God giving me a real answer to something that has caused me a lot of difficulty in my life . . . I am not embracing it and jumping up and down. I am circling it and sniffing it, just like a hungry yet suspicious cat that’s been given a filet mignon after years of kibble.
I have prayed about my weight, my sleep apnea, and my health in general. There’s this concept in the Bible about being a good steward of the material possessions God gives us. I have ignored it for years in regard to my body, and I want to stop doing that.
Not so that I can pursue lost youth or the illusion of eternal life via expensive whey protein shakes. Actually, it’s so that I can stop buying ugly fat clothes and so that I can, some day in the near future, get rid of my CPAP machine–which would free me to go to places that don’t have convenient electrical outlets, such as Cuba.
However, now that God seems to have granted my desire, or at least started to, I have started to ask, “What’s the catch? Why now? Why not ten years ago? What awful thing will you replace this with . . . because of course there’s got to be something awful in my life, right? Can’t just let me enjoy life across the board, can you? It’s never been your way, has it? Why would it be your way now?”
Perhaps my tendency to over-think, especially in the direction of worst-case scenarios, is the awful thing. I know it’s awful for others.