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Wednesday, August 14, 2013

It all starts with a crisis

cri·sis  [krahy-sis]   noun, plural cri·ses  [krahy-seez]   , adjective, noun
a stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially for better or for worse, is determined; turning point.

At some point, both overweight people and sinners of all stripes are confronted with a crisis.  Not necessarily the "Oh my god, my life is ending" kind of crisis, but, instead, some set of circumstances that requires a decision.  Often a life-changing decision.  In some segments of the church we talk about the moment when we become convicted (or sometimes convinced) of the reality of sin in our lives.  

In the weight loss community, we often ask one another what their "Aha moment" was.  That moment when you knew you just couldn't continue to live the obese life you'd built.  Some seem small...a look in a full length mirror, or more serious...that mom or dad who just doesn't have the flexibility or stamina to chase toddlers around, or more serious...the diagnosis of a serious weight-related disease or the death of a relative to one.  For many of us, it's some combination of the three.  When my first aha moment came, I just couldn't keep up with three teenage daughters.  Then came the death of my dad.  His issues were more complex than weight, but weight didn't help.  Finally, my knees wore out.  An orthopedic surgeon told me he could replace them, but at my age, I could expect to need as many as 5 revisions in my life time.  NOT going to happen.  I made my first decision for weight loss.

I remember facing that moment regarding my faith, as well, quite a long time ago.  I was a young sailor stationed in central California, far from home and just about anything familiar except the nagging suspicion that, somehow, my life just didn't measure up to God's standard.  I was raised in church, so that was an unsettling feeling.  The result was several years of soul-searching and scripture reading.  I quizzed pastors of two denominations and still found no satisfaction. I'm not throwing stones here.  They are both fine men.  They just didn't have what I needed.  It was finally in a little church in California where I was able to quiet my soul and finally hear His voice calling me from my sin.

I faced a crisis. I could choose to continue to live my life as I had always lived it and continue to live with my doubts and questions, or I could face that my normal, not terribly horrible life didn't please the God of Creation and that He wanted to deal with my sin.

In both cases, I knew what was needed.  There's no secret.  There's no magic.  It all started with a decision.  One to live a healthy physical life, and one to live a life submitted to the Living God who loves me better than anyone else could.  Is something holding you back from either today?