Sunday, June 12, 2011

On Celebrating Mediocrity

Most diet plans encourage us to celebrate small successes.

I am not entirely against this. It’s just . . . I’m not entirely FOR it either.

Do you remember this scene from The Incredibles (2004)?
     Helen: I can't believe you don't want to go to your own son's graduation.
     Bob: It's not a graduation. He is moving from the 4th grade to the 5th grade.
     Helen: It's a ceremony!
     Bob: It's psychotic! They keep creating new ways to celebrate mediocrity, but if someone is genuinely exceptional...

While it may be progress to eat less junk food today than yesterday, it may or may not be something to applaud. If, at the end of the day, I evaluate my success or failure solely on the quanity/quality of food I ate, I miss something. My focus is off! I celebrate the wrong incident.

Worse . . . I sell myself short. I miss out on something better – a relationship with my Creator. I’m celebrating mediocrity.

It’s not the physical act of eating better today than yesterday that is worth rejoicing over.

Eating better than Joe next door isn’t cause for merriment. That’s not the plumb line.

Instead, let’s jump up and down
  • when we walk after the Spirit
  • when our wills line up with God’s will
  • when we are surrendered to the Holy Spirit
The results are better eating habits and a genuinely exceptional relationship with Christ.

Now THAT'S worth celebrating!

 

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Yes It Counts

I think it’s gross to finish my daughter’s half-eaten hamburger.

And I wouldn’t steal a sip of my son’s pop—he might have cooties.

But I have been known to lick a spoon covered with cookie batter.

Or snag a tortilla chip from the open bag on the counter.

I justify these actions by telling myself it doesn’t count.

But it does. even if it’s healthy

And those nibbles and drinks add up.

What about you?
  • Do you finish your spouse’s/child’s meal?
  • Do you grab a handful of popcorn and eat it on the go?
  • Do you justify your actions by pretending it doesn’t count?
Well . . . stop it.