I walk onto the soccer field. I size up my competition. I analyze. What's wrong with them. What's wrong with me. How can I win (don't act like you've never done that)? But no, the sizing up doesn't stop there. It melts over in every other area of my life (ok, not really every area)-primarily the area of self-image.
If I run at a gym or on a treadmill, I will not stop till the person who was on before me is done. It's how I do. And, I like to think of myself as an in-shape and athletic person because of it. As soon as skinny, beautiful, blond (cough...stereotype...cough) girl steps on the treadmill-I'm doomed. No longer am I the big fish in the pond. It's like a drink a giant bottle of shrink-o.
Instantly, I begin wishing about things I wish were different, and not just about the way I look. Of course, skinny blond girl must be intelligent, hard-working, and a great christian. Did I mention that I'm done for?
At moments like the previous (and I've had my fair share), I know that I should start reciting 1 Cor. 6:19-20. After all, I am being a good steward by exercising, right? But, it's in those moments that I am the least willing to do so. Then, it boils down to: do I believe that God's word is true?
And, that clenches the deal.