A Two Cent Solution

“Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist …”
Ephesians 6:11-14 (NIV)

I’ve had my fair share of spiritual warfare throughout my lifetime. And while the above scripture proclaims our struggles are not against flesh and blood, I’ve had a week that begs to differ. It’s that time of year when the cooler weather signals a time of transition in my wardrobe. All this transition really means is moving a few hangers around in my closet. For me, the only thing that really changes with the cooler temperatures is the length of my pants and my choice of footwear. In spring and summer it means Capri pants and sandals; fall and winter heralds the official start of the denim season and close-toed shoes and socks.

Each year I dread this change. Some years I push the envelope and wear the shorter pants and sandals far longer than I should, risking hypothermia to my exposed digits. Well, okay – it is Arizona, so maybe not hypothermia, exactly. But it is definitely cold enough for goose bumps. I’m resistant to change for fear I’ve porked up just enough to warrant a size change in my jeans. Since I’ve been dating menopause, I’ve added two new sizes in my closet. I’ve barely recovered from the trauma. In anticipation of this year’s transition, I started cutting back on my Oreos in August. I increased the incline on my morning treadmill walks and added extra sit-ups three times a week.

To my shock and horror, my changes were a sad case of too little, too late. As I squeezed into my jeans last week, complete with the requisite jumping up and down on my tree stump legs to aid gravity in easing the pants up over my ample bottom (the size of Nebraska) and stuffing in my sidecar saddlebags … it was still necessary to lay down on the bed to ease the zipper up over my menopausal midriff and my fleshy freeloaders that were pigbacking on my pudgy back fat. (Oprah says I’m wearing the wrong jeans. Oprah’s experts say we should be able to find cool, low-slung hipster jeans in every size. Hah! Fat chance! Because of all of my aforementioned fleshy anomalies, I’m forced to wear my mom jeans.) To add insult to injury, once I managed to manipulate my mom jeans in place and get them properly zipped, I quickly lost the ability to breathe. My eyes were dangerously close to popping out of my head from the lack of oxygen. I found it necessary to enlist the aid of a sure-fire, two-cent solution, my best friend, Debbie, turned me on to. The rubber-band, jean expander. After fashioning a fat, sturdy rubber band through the loop of my button hole, I was able to secure the other end of the loop around the metal button, thereby giving me an extra inch of breathing space. It was magic! I wonder why I never thought of that before?

I’ve been in denial for some time and have been reluctant to put on the belt of truth before now. It’s time to admit that I’m teetering on the brink of being a plus-size woman. Ouch! That belt of truth stings! All this battling against my flesh has made it significantly harder to have my feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace (vs. 14). Peace? What peace? I’m in the middle of a battle, for gosh sakes! It’s time I hoisted the shield of faith to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one (vs.16). So take that, menopause! No weapon formed against me will prosper … not even excess body fat!

Thanks Lord for the wake up call and reminding me that I’m fighting against outside spiritual forces that seek to rob me of my peace and joy. I’ll try to put on the full armor of God and fight harder this week and not let insignificant things like a little weight gain be my undoing. Amen.