You Are Worth Being Well

I stood on the scale and took a big sigh. This was almost 50 pounds more than two years ago. Fifty reasons why I don’t feel pretty in my clothes. Fifty reasons why I stopped putting effort into myself. Fifty reasons why I sometimes just stuff the whole bag of chocolate-covered strawberries into my face.

As I walked the halls of the doctor’s office, I joked through the awkward annual appointment. Would the test results ever change? Would the point of these tests ever really matter? Would any of this ever change?

I ran to the grocery store, to get last-minute things for supper and ran into a friend on the way outside. She had seen me in the best shape, and now at my worst.

“It’s those darn pills, Rose. The weight isn’t coming off. And I had to take them. It was this or no longer be here for my kids.”

She said the choice was clear. Taking the pills was best.

But there were consequences, and weight loss was definitely not one of them. Was it worth it for me to worry about? Probably not. Did writing an encouraging essay about how my husband still loved me at any size help? A little.

But there were still some days I wished I could stop time—and stop taking the dang pills. I tried to—again—and I made it two days, and my body said you can’t do it yet. It wasn’t ready to handle the overstimulation.

I felt defeated. So I mopped for a few days. And then I did what any good mom would do . . . I took the pills. I took them for my kids. I took them for my husband. I took them for myself.

Because the world still needed me another day. Because being overweight was a drop in the bucket to the amazing life I still had the opportunity to live. Because people needed me.

And hearing my children laugh at family game night . . . and having my husband hold my hand while I slept . . . and having my daddy play a prank on me and seeing his smile . . . and talking with my mom on the phone every day . . . and those family dinners twice a month . . . it is worth it to still have those. The opportunity of being well was far greater than being skinny with no life at all.

You’re worth being well. And your family wants it for you too. Sending love, hugs, and prayers for those in seasons of change, defeat . . . and finding the joy.

“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” (Psalm 139:14 New International Version)

Originally published on the author’s blog