Tonight’s question rests gently but firmly on my heart: What part of my life feels out of control right now, and how does that make me feel?
The answer comes without hesitation. My physical health, particularly my weight has felt beyond my control for some time. I do not say this lightly. I know how important it is to steward my body well, not only for appearance but for vitality, longevity, and the simple joy of fully engaging in the activities that bring life to my soul. This is no longer a distant concern; it is urgent. It is a matter I can no longer postpone.
Yet something has shifted within me.
Instead of discouragement, I feel empowered. Instead of heaviness, I feel motivation rising. Where I would once make gentle promises on a Sunday that faded by Monday morning, this week has unfolded differently. I began fasting on Monday and have continued faithfully. Each day has felt like a quiet victory, not loud or dramatic, but steady and strengthening.
My body seems to be responding with gratitude. My energy is increasing. The internal strain I had grown accustomed to has eased. It feels as though my digestive system, once overwhelmed and fatigued, has finally been given permission to rest. In that rest, I sense restoration. A healing rhythm is returning, subtle, yet undeniable.
This brings me deep joy.
It has been a long time since I committed to caring for my body with this level of consistency and saw it through. To remain faithful for a full week may seem small to others, but to me it is a sign of grace at work. I sense God’s kindness in this progress, His gentle reminder that discipline borne from surrender produces life.
Still, I am aware that this journey is not a quick repair but a long obedience. My body did not reach this place overnight, and it will not be restored overnight. True transformation will require more than fasting, it will require a lifestyle reshaped by wisdom, patience, and sustainable habits.
I also grieve what has been lost along the way. There was a time when movement brought effortless joy. I loved functional training. I loved feeling flexible, capable, light. But excess weight has slowly dimmed that joy. Activities I once embraced with freedom now feel labored. The decline in my physical quality of life has been difficult to accept.
Yet tonight, hope outweighs disappointment.
Perhaps I misunderstood the journey before. Perhaps it was not merely about food choices, but about restoring the body’s internal systems, allowing them to reset, to breathe, to heal. Now it feels as though that restoration is beginning. And as balance returns, I trust that everything else, nourishment, movement, strength, will begin to align.
So I stand at the beginning again. Not condemned. Not ashamed. But invited into stewardship.
And I desire to walk this road for as long as the Lord grants me grace.
Wells of Wonder 