I got up early this morning-- no, not really. I got up on time this morning. I usually get up late, so "on time" feels like "early". So I am now sitting here, writing a blog post and eating my pancakes. We eat pancakes so rarely, saving them for Pancake Day and maybe Christmas or Thanksgiving, that they are in the nature of a treat. I'm sure that someday I will feel like a bad mother if I make my children eat pancakes from a mix, so I suppose I should learn how to make them from scratch before getting to that juncture. But for Chad and I, a mix is fine.
So I'm feeling a bit iffy about eating pancakes with syrup only days after ranting about the obesity epidemic; bit rich coming from me, eh? I had more time to think this over yesterday while walking home from work. My issue isn't being overweight; my issue is giving up the battle. I've been overweight most of my life, and every pound that comes off is a fight. A few times in recent years it has seemed that I was inches (hee hee, no pun intended) away from having my weight under control, only to see it slip away from me again. But I have to fight this battle; I must be in charge of my own health; I have no choice. Heart disease has run rampant through my family, we've had our share of cancers, and more recently, as the latecomer to the party, diabetes has popped up as well. My genetics are against me; to give up the battle is to give up all hope of seeing my children and grandchildren grow up.
Which naturally brings me round to the serious section (more serious?) of this post. There are many, many parallels between my struggle with my weight and my spritual life. Every sin is a fight; every good habit established is countered by another setback. Some days I feel like I am making headway, and some days I am content to live to fight another day. And there are times when I am ready to say, "Forget it. Sorry, God, can't do this any longer." But since I am with me all the time, a victory in one area gives the stimulus to go on in the other. If I can get up 30 minutes early to read my Bible, then I can refuse seconds. If I can skip that chocolate bar, then it is easy to spend 10 more minutes praying. Stopping to offer a word of encouragement to a co-worker makes 20 minutes of exercise seem lighter. And so on.
Now if only I knew the spiritual equivalent of pancakes.