Trusting God for Weight-Control

I have a weight problem. In fact, I’ve had a weight problem so long that I barely remember life without it. But for several years, in response to God’s direction, I’ve been losing. Then, last summer, because an attempt to change my medication wasn’t working, my rheumatologist prescribed steroids as a temporary measure. After brief periods on larger amounts, the dosage was reduced to 10 mgs on August 29.

This is my second experience with steroids and I learned the first time around that I must eat. If not, my stomach goes wild; stomach ulcers are a threat. And so, I’ve gained ten pounds. On a normal day, I try to not think about it, but on Sunday I happened to catch part of a feature on a woman weighing almost 700 pounds. One line from her story caught my attention—she began gaining weight during her recovery from hepatitis.

This may sound like an excuse, but it’s my reality and I think others would benefit by hearing my story. My weight gain began when recovering from hepatitis while I was in my late 20s. The objective was eating protein to rebuild the liver. Even in the hospital, while hooked up to IVs, I ate two eggs, bacon or sausage, cooked cereal, two slices of toast, and a large glass of milk for breakfast. Instead of lunch and dinner, I ate two dinners. In the afternoon and before bed, fabulous snacks. With activity curtailed, I looked to food for stimulation.

When sent home, the recommended diet followed the same pattern. Because I wanted to get well, I followed it. Six months later my doctor declared a full recovery. I’d gained 30 pounds.

In a reasonable world I’d have returned to eating the way I ate before and lose the pounds gradually. Instead, I went on a reduced-calorie diet. I think I lost about 25 pounds.

During the following year I gained about 35 pounds—something like that. I do remember for sure that I went up and down for years—the numbers were always a bit higher on the scale when I went up than they had been before I went down. The yo-yo effect.

The last time I was satisfied with my weight occured over 20 years ago when I lost an amount I can’t remember for our youngest son’s wedding. Many told me I looked great.

You’d think I’d have been motivated to keep up the good work, wouldn’t you? Truth is, by that time I’d forgotten how to eat normally. I either dieted and lost or I ate and gained (and felt guilty). Eventually, I gave up. I remember telling Ken that I couldn’t live that way anymore.

I don’t know how high my weight finally climbed. I was too depressed and too defeated to address the issue—even for reasons of health—so I stopped getting on the scale. I remember thinking the Bible used food as a metaphor for God’s blessings. If food was a blessing, why was it a problem? But I don’t remember praying about food.

(I’m sorry—but relieved—that I can’t post a picture from that era. We didn’t have a digital camera then.)

Then a friend—a large friend—approached me about joining her and others in a program called “Weigh Down.” There I faced a horrifying reality—food had become a sort of God in my life. I looked to food for comfort, for excitement, for fellowship. And this is what I want to highlight. If you have a weight problem, however it started, it indicates a deeper problem.

In the program we had freedom to eat anything at any time—if we were truly hungry. We went through a process of identifying true hunger and then volume-control became key. I can’t say how many pounds I lost because I didn’t know my top weight; I went down several dress sizes.

Well, the program came to an end, I was sidetracked by an event, lost my focus, and gained about 15 pounds. I was afraid to try anything that might begin the yo-yo effect again, so I visually monitored my food intake and stopped gaining. No fun, but it worked.

Then steroids entered the picture and I learned about a churning stomach. But this time I knew God could intervene. When the steroids were removed from my list of meds, I prayed desperately and I felt God gave me a directive: Don’t eat anything in the evening after dinner.

That was it?

Sometimes a little difference makes a big difference. Although I didn’t lose by making that change, I stopped gaining. It was a start, and I knew God was interested in my weight, that He would help me.

Three months later I prayed specifically about food again. This time I felt He suggested I stop eating salad dressings. I was primed for this—was tired of bottled dressings and a friend had been promoting alternatives. I lost a few pounds after that adjustment. Today I totally enjoy salads by dressing them with oil, balsamic vinegar and seasoned salt.

The next thing He impressed upon my heart was giving up soda. That was hard, but today I only drink soda for a special occasion. On a normal day, I don’t miss it. Although I don’t understand the chemistry, after that change my appetite seemed to decrease and my weight continued moving down slowly but consistently—until my recent experience with steroids when it began going up again.

There have been a few other changes—some temporary. I believe God was in some of them. My tastes have changed somewhat.

Tomorrow I see my rheumatologist and, because I’ve stabilized, I’m hoping he’ll begin weaning me off the steroids again. Perhaps because of that silly TV program—I was never even one-third of her weight—I’ve been thinking about it. Whatever happens, whenever I go off steroids, I know I’ll think of dieting—be tempted to kick-start the process of losing pounds quickly. But I can’t. Dieting puts the focus on food. Yes, I need to control food. I can only do that by putting my focus on God.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all your do, and he will show you which path to take. (Prov. 3:5,6 NLB)