Continuing our review of what author Tim Challies says about how to guard our health, “God expects us to present it, steward it, nurture it, and employ it. If you missed any of the entries so far, I hope you click back and review, but today we come upon the issue of stewarding our bodies. Not a new concept to most of us on this site, but repetition doesn't diminish reality. Tim says,

"You need to steward your body. As you surrender your body, you acknowledge that it does not belong to you but to God. Just as you are responsible to faithfully steward your time and money, you are responsible before God to faithfully steward the body he has assigned to you. You are to use your body wisely, to put your body to use in ways that bring glory to God. After all, “You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20).

The Tightrope
At PrayFit, we have always lived within a tension; a tension that we walk like a tightrope when it comes to the complexity of bodily stewardship; trying never to put too much emphasis on the body that we lose sight of what's most important, but never de-emphasizing the truth that we are made in God's image. And in order for us to follow Him and tell others about Him, He gave us arms, legs, skin, eyelids, lips and receding hairlines. Well, that last one He reserved for the really cool kids.

But I am convinced that if we're not careful, "seeing health (or illness) through the Gospel's lens" can become no more than a catchphrase. We have to mine God's Word for the indisputable truths nestled throughout. From Genesis to John, we have irrefutable evidence of the precious origin and the eternal significance of these temporary jars of clay. 

Stewardship is never showy, but it's not lazy. Being healthy quietly or humbly isn’t popular, but it takes far more strength to cover up hard work than the hard work itself. Stewardship doesn't start in the gym and end in a flex, but rather it begins and ends in a heart where God is pleased. If you remember anything from this entry, it’s this: Bodily stewardship happens when our approach to the body proclaims 1) God's image is cherished and 2) His will is pursued in the process.

Servants and Tenants
So, to help bring the message home, I'll be typing the balance of this entry in my best English accent. I must, I’m afraid. And I assure you it is not without merit. See, my wife and I used to enjoy being swept away into the world of Downton Abbey; a show on PBS that depicted the lives of the aristocratic Crawley family and their servants in the post-Edwardian era. If you haven’t seen it, it's quite lovely.

Something Lord Grantham said to his daughter about the estate he had been blessed and charged with upholding that resounds with me. He said, "My fortune is the work of others, who labored to build a great dynasty. Do I have the right to destroy their work? I am a custodian, my dear, not an owner. I must strive to be worthy of the task I have been set."

Wow, indeed. Pause it. I think to type in my normal voice may be the only way for me to sincerely applaud what he said. When it comes to this wonderful life, and the gift of grace, and the body God Himself built for us to experience it, we are precisely that. Stewards. Servants. Protectors. Tenants. Recipients of a fortune. Custodians for a time.

I may not have royal blood coursing through my veins, nor am I near polished enough to work the servant's hall in Downton, but I do serve at the pleasure of our Lord and Savior. And this body - built by God and designed for me to follow Him - will get my utmost. And I will do it for His renown and not my own.

Dr. Charles Stanley once said, "The body merits our respect and esteem in the same way that the most holy place of worship deserves upkeep." Amen, Dr. Stanley. 

Quite right, sir. Quite right.

- Jimmy Peña

SIDEBAR
Weight For It.
A Heavy Subject.
Lighten Up.
(I can do this all day.)

I’ve been asked by readers if I believe in the scale. My answer is yes. And I think that since we’re smack-dab in the middle of this series, now would be a good time to discuss my view on it. And maybe with a hint of honesty and humor or honest humor, depending.

But here’s the skinny. I step on it every single day. Gasp. I know. But it’s a true story.

I live in a small weight range. I have to. For reasons I don’t talk about at parties, I live around 165lb. Fact is, I’m working to be a lean and flexible 150lb. by my 50th birthday. And to make sure I’m on track, I use the scale every day. My scale is both accurate and precise. Accurate in that it is a calibrated scale (it tells me what I actually weigh). And it’s precise in that if I step on and step off of it repeatedly, it’s consistent. Some scales aren’t accurate, but precise. Others are accurate but not precise. Personally, if you have to choose between the two, my advice would be to choose the one that’s precise. Long story short, I can trust mine.

Anyway, here’s something else you can trust. The book of Colossians gives us freedom to step on the scale. It’s under our feet for a reason. Please do not be mocked, ridiculed or shamed by those in our industry that have somehow vilified it. We can’t be so lofty and flowery that we allow the scale a place among the gods. Now that’s funny when you put it that way.

When you go to a doctor’s office and the nurse asks you to step on the scale, you don’t say, “Oh, no. I don’t step on scales. They don’t measure my worth.” Silly, right? Of course they don’t. They measure your weight. What did the doctors do for us when we were born? Yep. So go for it. Measure your weight if you want, if you can and while you can. After all, the number won’t always agree with you.

I won’t always be able to keep my number within range, but I’m not going down (or up) without a fight. I do not go gentle into that good night. It’s completely fine to wrestle with the number. There are both tangible and intangible battles waged when you step on it. Wage them. Fight them. Summon the war. Keep stepping on its neck. Use it at as tool. Don’t bow before it, but don’t run from it. You’re not mocked by its praise or its criticism. It’s a scale. When you’re standing on it, it’s measuring your force of gravity. It has no soul of its own, and you won’t give it yours. You actually can’t. Because it’s a scale. (That was actually funny to type.) I’ll be here all week.