Original Sin to original thin

19 May


“The fear of the LORD
is the beginning of knowledge”.
(Proverbs 1:7)
NET commentary:
“Fear” has a three-fold range of meanings here: (1) “dread; terror” (Deut 1:29; Jonah 1:10), (2) “to stand in awe” (1 Kgs 3:28), and (3) “to revere; to respect” (Lev 19:3). With the LORD as the object, it captures the polar opposites of shrinking back in fear and drawing close in awe and adoration.

Our prayer is that you would be blessed today with both a sense of God’s incomparable majesty, and a sense of God’s gentleness and grace. Amen.


When is a tale of Loss a very happy one? When it involves weight. In the last nine months, I have lost 55 pounds–kind of like having a baby. Or maybe five of ’em!

A couple of times I have heard, “I know the voice, but I don’t recognize the face.” As odd as it may sound, I didn’t, either! At one point I thought I was a movie star: “Who is that THIN MAN in my mirror? You didn’t laugh? I guess it’s an age thing.

It reminded me of when Amy was about four. Early one morning, I decided to shave off my beard. Nope, I never gave a thought to the fact that daughter two had never seen me without a beard. I’m standing at the mirror admiring my now-cleanly-shaven self, when I realized someone was in the bathroom doorway. Amy is frozen. I mean, she is FROZEN! Mouth open, eyes popping–she looked kind of like a lemur on Prosac. Beauty sees her from down the hall and begins urging, “Steve, say something! Say something so she knows it’s you!” I suspect I was looking a little lemur-like myself. Finally, I muttered something astonishingly astute, like, “It’s me.” I’m not sure which one of us got the worst of it.

Amy and I on the North Fork
of the Big Pine Trail, Sierras

Back to my tale. It all began at our Covenant Group. One of the guys was talking about backpacking the John Muir Trail, and I began to salivate. Oh, how I want to be hiking the Sierras again!

Then somebody mentioned something truly nasty about being the same weight as when they got married. “Uh, oh.” I knew exactly how much I weighed when Beauty & I married, and my weight at that moment was not it. As a matter of fact, the only ‘commonality’ was that they were both numbers. And, unfortunately, one of them registered on the Richter Scale when I walked to the Coalinga Post Office. So, it was abundantly clear (‘abundantly’ chosen on purpose for good reason) that it was time to begin registering on a different kind of scale.

Armed with a new, custom Excel spreadsheet (hopefully to measure my lessening ‘spread’), a new resolve, and a wonderful plan, I began the battle of the bulge. It was not lost on me that my Uncle Glenn died at the real Battle.

I have been asked what my brilliant strategy was/is.

That will have to wait until another post.


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