Grace and Jeans

I need a new pair of jeans. My favorite pair, that I wear about four days a week, is faded and worn in the knees from sitting eye-level with toddlers. I have another pair that I hate (they fit funny, even though they are the same size and style as my favorites), and a pair that's too big. And that's it. Since we anticipate flying out for weekend interviews pretty soon, I also anticipate needing clothes to wear for those "get to know you" lunches. Hence, I need a new pair of jeans.

I was driving along the interstate today, thinking about new jeans, and my mind wandered to size and weight and body image in general. It's interesting to me how, as a nation, we can discuss "the obesity epidemic," but in our own lives, weight and size is an intensely personal topic. Most people I know are more comfortable talking about sex than they are their weight. Even as I'm writing this, I feel my face starting to burn ... why is that? Is it because of the emphasis in the media on beauty, and the equation of beauty to being thin? Or is the media simply reflecting what we as Americans believe about the relationship between our size and our significance? AND, if we do see the two as being intricately related, then why are so many people in the U.S. obese?

I can talk about this because I used to be fat. Eating was an emotional issue that became a physical problem for me. I can trace my steps now, see how it happened, how it ended. I don't think I'm fat any more, but I never quite feel thin enough. (What does it mean to "feel thin"? The fact that I even use that term speaks to my point). There are always ten pounds in the back of my mind. Just ten more pounds, and that would be enough - if only I were one size smaller. It's absurd. I am not obsessed, I am not ill - I still eat junk food and skip exercising like everyone else. I am not out of control; I'm just not satisfied.

I used to know a girl who was morbidly thin. Really - I don't think I could describe for you how tiny she was, how she wore sweaters and multiple pairs of pants to look bigger, cut her hair short so you couldn't see the brittle ends. When you hugged her, you could feel every bone. The medical clinic at her school tried to force her to drop out for a semester and go to an inpatient facility. But she'd done that, years before, and she wasn't willing to go again. I think about this girl now and hope she lives long enough to overcome this. Does she feel thin enough yet?

In the Scripture, Paul talks about a thorn in his side. God's response to Paul's request for the thorn to be removed was, "My grace is made perfect in your weakness." I would love to be the girl who skipped meals because she just forgot to eat, who didn't remember how many servings of bread she's already had today, but I'm not. So I thank God that His grace is made perfect in my weakness. By the grace of God, this one thought does not swarm out all the others. By the grace of God, I am healthy, emotionally and physically. I have been spared so much. And while it's not the answer I want - the answer I want is, like Paul, to have the thorn removed completely - it's the one I've been given. If I'm not satisfied with my size, I can be satisfied that God is glorified, even in my weakness. God's grace is enough. Grace, that is, and a new pair of jeans.