Yes. I admit it. I confess to you brothers and sisters, I’m incredibly vain, painfully so at times.
When I’m not snatching a second look at my waistline in a hallway mirror, a preoccupation of mine, I'm looking for food. – I see it. I eat it. I mourn. I eat again. It’s a worn out familiar cycle.
After a long ascent to the top of Cascade Mountain, looking out toward the breathtaking countryside surrounding Lake Placid, I was so happy it was cold. ‘Now I can put on a jacket,’ I told myself. Jackets cover offending waistlines! A person can look slim in the right jacket!
I ripped my red North Face rain-jacket out of my backpack. Whipped it on over my head. “Hey McCrory, can you take my picture,” I yelled to my hiking partner. Click! Picture taken. Mission accomplished.
On the flight home, just a few hours ago, I asked myself, where does this vanity come from? What am I trying to accomplish? – And, ultimately, when I trace it back, step-by-step, I’d have to admit that it's a lack of faith that drives my vanity. A lack of faith in the knowledge that God loves me. A lack of faith in the belief that our Father’s affirmation is all I ultimately need.
We are relational beings. We were not created to walk with God or experience life on earth alone. However, at times I still make the mistake and believe human admiration can somehow replace love that emanates from our God. It is disordered love in one of its saddest forms.
God loves you and me, despite what we look like, despite the crazy things we did in the past ... and, despite what other people might think about us.
He is an amazing Father who cares about you so much and longs for a relationship with you …
If you see me at the YMCA, I’ll just be trying to lose a few pounds, exercise is still a good thing. But, if you catch me standing in front of a mirror, kind of puffing out my chest and flexing my biceps, you have permission to slap me on the back of the head and remind me that God really does love me.
