Stop Saying That!

Did you ever write on a slip of paper a total lie in order to “help” yourself do better? Perhaps a re-think is in order.

In my adolescent years somewhere between the cluster of zits that appeared on my chin and the darkening of the red on my head I began abusing myself with a hair brush.

When the hair did not behave, I slammed the plastic side of the brush (it was pink as I recall) against the right side of my head in rounds of about five to seven times amongst frustration, tears, and the drama of not appearing the way I’d planned for the daily dreaded school appearance.

I never did anything about this. Never told anyone. It just stopped one day. Probably so the concussions could start healing.

I thought this was quite the original story until I saw a video recently of a young tweener doing the exact same thing to herself. I was mortified. I pleaded with the TikTok, “Don’t do that! Poor baby, what are you doing to yourself? You are literally beating yourself up!” And incidentally, “Why are you putting this on TikTok?!” I suppose this is the “extra” required by Generation Alpha for the twenty-first century. Let’s show everyone how we mortify ourselves to make it worthwhile. Sick. (Not to be confused with 80’s slang sick as in that’s siiiick, or awesome, Dude.) But in the original or shall I say archaic? Sick: mental or physical illness. Or what might give you the sudden urge to vomit.

All this leading to another thought: It’s okay to berate and thump myself on the head but you need to stop!

These seeds that are planted mutate into sneakier craft.

Did you ever write on a slip of paper a total lie in order to “help” yourself do better? Like a little reminder of how you felt about a certain something last week, so that when the temptation rolls around again this week…and next week, you’ll be armed? Oh, ok, let’s give you a better example.

“Fleur, your thighs look like a baby elephant wearing those white pants. Cut the carbs!” Signed, Fleur from last week (after trying on those white pants you bought last summer.)

Perhaps this would go on a refrigerator door or beside the placemat at dinner!

It’s just an example I made up….from the sign on my refrigerator and beside my placemat.

In truth I thought it was funny! Really, I thought myself clever! I laughed!

Ha.         Hah.

Recently I’ve been asking in prayer to be able to recognize little messages (or big ones) from the Spirit intended for me – not necessarily about me but for whatever reason for me. The prayer goes a little something like this: Holy Spirit wake me up and alert me to your messages that come through others. Allow me to hear them and recognize them. Amen. Super creative prayer, I know. So if you’ve ever felt pressure for eloquence – consider yourself off the hook now.

This week, I woke up (and got out of bed) early, put on my shorts, and proudly headed over to the small workout room about two hundred paces from the townhouse where my husband and I live. (This is a gift. For the farther the treadmill the closer the couch.)

After the half-hour tread, a few (a few) lunges and a round of free weights (this is not to impress for it is not impressive) I am on my back doing more unimpressive crunches when it occurs to me… Hmmm… perhaps – maybe – I shouldn’t have that sign on my refrigerator and beside my placemat about my thighs looking like a baby elephant wearing white pants.

Hmmm.

I finish and head out the door where I pass one of my favorite neighbors, Pam, with her scruffy little poodle-pup, Runner. We give our big smiles “Hello” and Pam says:

“Whoa…. Look at your thighs! They look so good!”

I kid you not.

(And then Runner barked twice at me in affirmation. No, that didn’t happen but in the movie it will.)

This is what we call “Testing the spirits” or “The Spirit goes before [you]”.

In other words, had I not believed what I’d been musing earlier as I gazed upon my thighs with every crunch, (Hmmm… may not compare yourself to a white trouser wearing mammoth), then the Spirit goes on before me into the ear and heart of my lovely neighbor who confirms that, yes, perhaps one more definition of love is not comparing your thighs to the descendent of a palaeomastodon.

I responded to Pam with thanks, told her my story, after which her jaw drops open and she asks the atmosphere, “Why do we do that?!”

Why, indeed.

Because within the war waged in the invisible upon our lives, there is a battle on our thighs that began early on with our hairbrushes and skulls, so that we will be distracted from what matters.

Our spirits. Our souls.

Your spirit, your soul, that looks ever so lovely in white, (or insert your own personal scary color), pants.

Wear them.

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The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."Deuteronomy 31 Verse 8

Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. 1 John 4:1

But not a hair of your head will perish. Luke 21:18