The Numbers are Up

Yesterday I had a free personal training session at my exercise place.

(I am a reluctant, amateur fitness enthusiast; I freely admit I do it out of duty and necessity only.)
I sit across from a buff muscle builder named Matt, all of 22 years of age, having just graduated with his fitness degree this past Spring.
(To his credit, he was professional, kind, helpful,  and absent of condescension, even though he WAS sitting across from a middle aged suburban housewife, i.e, a needy physical specimen! The friendly chat I had with him about his own life was perhaps the highlight of this session.)
It was, however, a discouraging visit.
Even though I discipline myself 6x a week to exercise and/or run, the numbers went up.
(Similar to golf, taxes, and incidents with the police, this is not good.)
Weight: up
BMI: up
Girth measurements: up
I sit back and think to myself, “Why do I even try? Is it even worth it?!”
Meanwhile Matt explains a new regimen, demonstrates weight resistance and aneroebic training, and sets up a muscle workout that I need written down as I’m certain my brain will never remember it (not to mention wondering, ‘will my body be able to DO them all?!!’)

Later that evening, I describe this all to my husband.
He gets that big smile and asks, “Does it count if I’m happy with you?”
(You gotta love a husband like that.)
“No really”, he pushes my thinking, “Isn’t your body mostly for me? And if I’m happy, does it matter what numbers say or even what you believe to be the ‘perfect’ result?”
(We’ve had this discussion before, and so I defer my thinking to ponder on the truth of his words. I push past my feelings which are influenced by years of culture & my own perfectionistic insecurities to grasp ‘what is true, right, good…’)
I conclude: I will continue to plod forward in this fitness regimen, because it is necessary and good. But I will not let ‘results’ define me nor be the final word.
He who matters is happy with me.

 * * *
I ponder further, however, how we often do that in another area of our lives.
As you are brought before your own sinfulness, perhaps a weakness in your Christian walk, a sin that still besets, a failing to spend time in prayer or God’s Word, do you ever ask yourself,
“Why do I even try? Is it even worth it?”
The numbers (of my failings) are up.
And so we ponder a new ‘regimen’ to get us back in sync with what our heart desires (to walk with God), what God wants (fellowship with His child), what will help us to live out our faith--and this is not a bad thing, but what we believe or feel…
Is failure. "I just don’t measure up."

Does God not whisper, in the words of His Word, the very same question to us in that moment,
“Does it count if I’m happy with you?”
(You gotta love a GOD like that.)
“You are clothed in Christ’s righteousness, perfect in my sight as I continue to make you perfect in your walk. My child, I see your struggles, imperfections, but those ‘numbers’ don’t define you; I see different numbers: my Son’s 2 nail-pierced hands, 2 nail-pierced feet and 1 crown resting on the 1 head of the 1 sinless person who covered all your sin in his once-for-all-sacrifice. Those numbers (His) will continue to perfect you in this life, but I see you already complete, and I delight in you. ”

And so I bow my head in worship and awe, gratitude and love.
He who matters is happy with me.
Thank you, Lord.
Thank you.
Continue to guide me in truth to see the magnitude of my sin in the context of the surpassing power of your grace that covers it.