My body is a temple

I've been slowly getting back into shape. I give myself about 12 months to loose my babyweight, so things go pretty slow. I loose a bunch right after I have my babies, and plateau until about 8 months postpartum, when they get teeth and my cycle comes back. My weight loss accelerates once that happens.

I've been helping it along with regular exercise, which is something I am not accustomed to. Eating well is more of my forte.

I started lifting weights with John 3 times a week, and it's been an amazing journey to watch my body change in the subtlest ways. so subtle, that I feel like I would not notice them if I wasn't so aware of my body. Today I decided to go on a little run because I was feeling depleted and run-down emotionally. I slid on my slick black (maybe not the best choice for 100 degree weather) compression workout capri pants, and they went on like butter instead of sausage casing. I admired the reduction of my thighs and how the waistband lay flat on my waist without causing muffin-top, and smiled.
I went downstairs and announced to john that all my clothes are fitting better, but my workout pants were the most dramatic measuring tool in my closet.

I was feeling pretty awesome about my body, for the first time in 10 months, and satan took notice.

I wish women all over the world would realize that all body-centered opposition is one of satan's tools, and probably the one he uses the most. He targets women because they create and sustain life with their body. He perverts sex  because it is the highest expression of love, and he KNOWS it is a window into the eternities. He plauges us with eating disorders, addiction, illnesses and negative thoughts because he doesn't have a body, and he wants us to be miserable, like himself.

If I hadn't' known this about Satan and his lies, my experience on my run would have been far more sad and traumatizing than it was.

School had just been let out, and I made it through the first crowd of kids, noticing that the sun beating down on me was draining my energy reserves. I knew I would be walking most of the time.

I made it down another street, and stopped running right by my bishop's house, and I could see a group of 3 kids straggling along, stopping in a person's yard to read a sign posted. I didn't slow my pace, and the timing lead us to walking pretty much together. I was behind them, and it was awkward, so I started running again, and as i ran past, within earshot, one of the kids said "oh my God,look at her fat ass!" and the other two roared with laughter.

A few things went through my head, the first being, "keep running." so I did.
The next thing was, "they have no idea what a fat ass looks like if they think mine is." and the last being " even if my ass is fat, at least I'm out here working on it."

I contemplated what just took place, justifying their words and keeping the positive self talk going.

But it still made me feel sad. Not sad because they hurt my feelings, but sad for them. they live in a completely different world than I do. not just in maturity, but in societal understanding. to them, the skinny girls on fashion magazine covers are normal and healthy, and they haven't even reached puberty and the body confusion that comes with it. I know for a fact that this experience will stick with them throughout their lives, just like it will for me. But, unlike them, I have the truth, and that has made this experience a positive and humbling one for me.


  1. When we lived in Utah I worked for a flower shop that was vandalized one night. The culprits broke in and got into the cooler. We kept a very small corner for our diet coke (probably where my addiction started) and a few other food items. They got into our butter and wrote with it on our black board "lard ass". The next day my boss asked me if anyone had been upset with me or if I had I dealt with any disgruntled customers. Like I was the only one with a big ass that worked there!


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