Do My Arms Look Chubby?

I have a love-hate relationship with the camera.

Even though I have taken countless selfies, I still cringe when someone says, "smile".  

In fact, my Facebook profile is set up so if someone tags me in a picture, I get to review the picture first, before allowing it on my timeline.

Thank goodness for privacy settings.  

Friday night I took a picture with two of my friends.

I actually thought it turned out ok.

And then I looked closer…

These were the exact thoughts running through my head, "Oh my goodness, my arms look so chubby. I know I've gained weight, but seriously, this is ridiculous. Are people going to think I look chubby? Should I go on a diet? Should I take it off Instagram? Do I look fat? Maybe I look fat….maybe it's all in my head? Ok, Amy, stop. You know this is a lie. You are not fat. You've gone through this countless times before. It's a test. Start speaking the truth over yourself… But, I mean, I could not eat tomorrow. I have been eating really poorly lately. Maybe I should go back on a diet…I need to look at the picture again."

Ridiculous.

All it took was one picture to ruin my night.

Now, I don't think I need to rush off into treatment again because I had these thoughts. I think if we are all honest, there are times we look at ourselves in pictures and find something to criticize.

Size 2,4,12 or 14, we can always find something wrong.

We our are own worst enemy.  

I am so vain, my ego so prideful, and my perception so insecure, that I even asked some close friends if the picture made my arms look chubby.

You can guess their answer.

Fast forward to Sunday.

I was catching up with a friend who I hadn't seen in awhile.

I was telling her about the "chubby arm" picture incident on Friday night.

I wasn't telling her the story to ask for her opinion on the status of my arms. I was telling her how it was completely ridiculous that I let a picture ruin my night. I was recounting to her how I had let old, yet all too familiar feelings of shame and ugliness resurface for an evening.

I was explaining to her how sometimes I still struggle with my identity.

I was confessing to her that I still need healing from past wounds.

Immediately, after I told her about the picture, she said, "and what's going on with the music?"

I then explained how I had recently become a member of the Irish International Songwriters Guild, and had a possible cut on a country singers upcoming album. And before I could even go any further she said, "Hold up. Your dreams are coming true and you are more worried about how your arms look? God is answering your prayer, and you are worried about if your arms look chubby?"

She didn't have to say anything else.

She didn't need to say anything else.

I got the point.

The longings in my heart have started to come to life, and I am more consumed with my image.

The desires that have been impossible or now becoming possible, and I am stuck on a size.

The "What if's?" are turning into, "Now", and I am stuck on the superficial.

Maybe your dream was to meet the, "one".

And then you did.

Instead of thanking God for answering your prayer, you are now consumed with your job. You are dissatisfied with your position and constantly obsess over how you can climb up the ladder. 

Maybe your dream was to have a child.

And then you did.

But now you find yourself wishing you had a different life, specifically, a different husband. 

Maybe your dream was for your prodigal son or daughter to come back home. Maybe your dream was for them to find faith.

And then they did.

But now you are too overwhelmed with wondering if they will ever find a "good" job. You forgot that at one time, your dream was for them to return, alive.

Why is it so easy for us to forget about the prayers that God does answer?

Why is it so easy to be swayed by our feelings and wants?

Why are we never satisfied?

I honestly think the Old Testament had it right.

I think we all should set up altars of remembrance for the Lord.

I used to want to get a tattoo every time God did something major in my life.

But tattoos hurt, and are expensive.

So my journals will have to do.

We must remember the times God has made our dreams come to pass.

We must record the times that God has listened to our heart cries and desires.

We must reflect on His faithfulness in our lives. 

I needed my friend to remind me of the miracle that God is doing in my life. I needed her to bring me back to reality, and slap some sense into me, figuratively speaking.

I didn't eat only lettuce and rice cakes the next day. I didn't run on the treadmill for 12 hours. I didn't look at the picture again.

What I did do was fall to my knees, ask for forgiveness, and thank Him for what He is doing in my life.  

I thanked Him for making a way where there seemed to be no way.

I thanked Him for opening doors that only He could have opened.

All it takes is a simple, "Thank You Jesus".

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."

 Isaiah 43:18-19