It's January 2nd, and I got on the scale tonight. Those 25 pounds I lost in 2021 and "knew" I would never let come back are back...and they brought some evil friends. What's worse is I had done it. I had cut out sugar. I had a lifestyle of exercise. I was experiencing the joy of not being enslaved to food. And yet somehow I'm right back where I don't want to be, hoping this year can be different.
Of course I just feel in my gut that I will fail again, but my only option is to start over. I won't succeed with the current trend, so tomorrow I take the first step with a new plan.This last December we did advent as a family. We read several Old Testament scriptures that shared the hope of a Savior that would come (The Messiah!) That hope was everything!
I have to start my eating plan with hope. I know hope is powerful. It provides focus and desire. Hope creates goals. Hope is joy-filled. When people were hoping for a Savior, they were given prophesies about Him to know what to expect and what He would be like, where he would be born, and what his lineage would be. Their hope was based in truth.
Since I have stopped and started healthy eating many times, I've learned a few things. I know what works, and I know what trips me up. I know I am my own worst enemy, and I can't blame my weaknesses on anyone else. I also know that I CAN resist temptation (when I feel like it). So, I am going to hope that I will choose to make the right decisions. I already know that I won't always make the right choices, but perhaps I can make more this year than I did last year? A girl can hope!
