I made it 21 days before my shaky, tired self lost my steady pace. Today, I tripped and fell. It began with a bad dream causing a great deal of anxiety; in fact, I felt like I was wearing a weighted down straight jacket. When your hands are tied up and you’re carrying extra weight on your shoulders, it is pretty much impossible to catch yourself.
I rolled down the mountain and into the hands of carbohydrates. The fall didn’t knock me unconscious though, as I recorded every bad thing I ate. I sat there for quite awhile wallowing in my pity. Then, I made myself take charge of the situation by posting and publishing my website weekly devotional. After that, I crawled to the foot of the Cross where I wrote in my prayer journal and read the Word.
As my body began to gain a little strength, I got on the scales and weighed myself. Unraveled the tape measure and calculated my inches. The results after 3 full weeks: lose of 4 lbs and 4 ¾ inches. I was neither disappointed nor ecstatic. So, I took my numb self and sought rest to my soul by soaking in a bubble bath and reading a book.
The day is almost done. My wounds still pain me, but praise God for the weight and inches lost. Tomorrow is new day. I will rest tonight and pray for renewed strength to soar as on eagle’s wings. (Isaiah 40:29-31)