Do Not Submit to Folly

This is an age when people can’t see the forest for the trees. It’s just too easy to oversimplify things for the sake of entertainment than to really deal with the issue in a full context.

For example, I’m chunky and it doesn’t bother me in the least. All the spouting about how it’s bad for you and dire predictions of health problems is just the same old Nanny State nonsense. That whole ethic of nagging presumes an ownership of the individual, as if they were nothing more than an economic resource owned by the State (“society”). The real message is that the State cannot get as much mileage from your carcase if you aren’t svelte and sexy. So there’s a whole weight-control industry in which you are socially obliged to invest.

And just to make sure other, less formal industries aren’t neglected, we have this whole anti-fat-shaming show to go with it. That gives rise to a competing business trend based on snowflaking. It’s really just two halves of the same business, with the same group of investors making money from both sides.

Fat shaming is not a crime. You are entitled to your opinion. The problem is to keep in mind that other people are equally entitled to their opposing opinion. More importantly, how you go about expressing your opinion says way more about you than it says about your target. But of course, we’ve made an entire industry based on making oneself look stupid, too. Yeah, most of what passes for common social wisdom on all competing sides is really a matter of greed behind the marketing.

If you walk the heart-led way, you will of necessity make some decisions that require sacrifice. What you sacrifice is between you and God. This calling is war against common social wisdom in all its forms. That in itself is a sacrifice of facing internal conflict until you can get a grip on what really matters to you in your divine calling.

For me, paying the long-term price for being chunky is a sacrifice to God. Nothing in my convictions requires me to invest much time or effort beyond a certain point. There are boundary lines. It was fine a decade ago when the Lord commanded me to get as fit as I could, and with some experimentation, I got fairly trim.

But then there was that bike crash that shattered my kneecap, and somehow in the mix of events I manifested episodic ventricular tachycardia. The treatment includes taking a medication that offers weight-gain as a side-effect. Granted, in the odd mix of things that I do with this body, not all of the weight-gain was fat, but at 5’10” and about 250 pounds (1.78m & 113kg) there is some extra blubber around my midriff. It’s not what I want, but changing it is not a high priority in the broad scheme of things.

I don’t have time to explain it to everyone, so I don’t bother. I don’t have to justify it before God; my conscience is clean. Nobody else really matters. Neither shaming no reveling, I just take it in stride. I’m not going to wade into the social debate, because the whole society is on the wrong foundation. I want no eager allies from the “body acceptance” movement and fitness scolds don’t have to live with my situation. It means shopping more at the thrift stores for big man clothes, but it has not hindered biking and hiking, or my other workouts, at all.

I have to careful about chairs. Did you know that all ladders you buy these days have a weight limit? Most of them are designed to handle less than 225 pounds; I’ve had at least one bend under my bulk. I tested a new knee brace, but it spontaneously rolled down off my thigh. I’m not going to go on a campaign demanding accommodations for my size. I’ll take what my Father provides for His mission and calling on my life.

By the same token, I’ll applaud your efforts to take whatever path God calls you to, because the one greatest victory of all is knowing and embracing your mission from God.