If My Body is a Temple, Then I was a Megachurch

by Scott Davis

  Bondservant. That means slave. Before he was martyred for his faith in Jesus, James earned the nickname “Camel Knees.” He prayed so often and for so long that his callused knees looked knobby like a camel’s. Imagine the moment he gazed into the resurrected Christ’s understanding eyes and everything changed.

  Jude, another of Jesus’ skeptical half-brothers, also has a New Testament book credited to him. Guess how he opens it?

  “Jude, a bondservant of Jesus Christ and brother of James.”

  Bondservant.

  The brother they once disowned they now bow before. The fringe lunatic they once mocked is now their forever Lord.

  That, to me, is the definition of freedom. I want to be enslaved to Christ so I may be free of all the encumbrances of this world. Call it a crutch and call me weak, but I’ll always call Him King.

  I laughed when Mark Lowry said, “Hey, there are relatives I have to love because they’re kin to me. That doesn’t mean I want to go on vacation with them.” But God not only loves us, He likes us. He wants to spend time with us. He’s crazy about us. To me, just as a great friend wants us to be the best we can be and succeed, including in the area of weight control and all the inherent struggles, God wants us to succeed as well. We should lean on Him, seek Him, and trust Him.

  But how? How do we trust Him with weight loss? What does it mean to take this to the Lord? It means:

  We realize the real battle is spiritual. The key to victory over weight control is to recognize this isn’t the battle of the bulge. It’s a battle for the heart and mind. We are spiritual creatures—the real you is the spirit inside that oversized bag of bones—and therefore everything that touches our lives has spiritual implications. In Ecclesiastes, Solomon writes, “All the labor of man is for his mouth, and yet the soul is not satisfied” (6:7). He’s saying what we stuff into our mouths can never bring lasting peace and contentment. Our struggle isn’t physical, it’s spiritual. It has psychological, emotional, and mental ramifications, but the battle is spiritual. Take care of the spiritual foundation first, and the rest has a way of falling into place (see Matthew 6:33).

  We spend time in Bible study every day. This is how we take care of the spiritual foundation. Through study of His living Word, God renews our minds to rid us of old habitual thought patterns and retrains us to see ourselves and others as He sees us. Psalm 119:103 states, “How sweet are Your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” Now we’re talking eternal dessert!

  We pray. And then we pray some more. Why? Because there is power in prayer. We pray to start the day. We pray to close the night. We pray through the cravings. We pray for strength. We pray for courage. We pray for protection from temptation. We pray during temptation. We pray for discipline and consistency. We pray to sense God in every bite. “Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Psalm 34:8). Nothing rivals the flavor of the Savior.

  We obey. When the Holy Spirit whispers in His still small voice that a particular menu item has too many calories or too much salt, we don’t pretend we can’t hear Him. That still small voice may as well be a megaphone at that moment, but sometimes we out-talk God. That’s when we wind up burping lasagna. But it’s not lasagna that sits on our stomachs two hours later. It’s an extra helping of guilt.

  We ignore the enemy’s taunts. Yes, we have fallen. Yes, we feel the extra helping of guilt. But failing doesn’t make us a failure. It makes us human. A key to weight loss is ignoring Satan’s giggles and false accusations when we stumble. His lies are a mirage. They’re like a Hollywood movie set, extravagant and convincing on the outside with nothing behind them. They feel heavy but weigh nothing compared to the gravity of God’s truth. When God convicts, He convicts about a particular sin. He is precise because His Word is sharper than any two-edged sword. When Satan accuses, he generalizes. You’re a bad Christian. You’re a loser. You’re a fatty. You’ll never get the weight off. When we stumble, we ask for forgiveness if we have sinned, and we start again, same nose to the same grindstone. God’s precious Word trains us how to recognize Satan’s lies and believe truth instead. Then it’s up to us to never give up. Ever.

  Matthew 6:33 states: “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” The “kingdom of God” refers to the rule and reign of Christ not only over the universe but also in our hearts. That’s why Jesus said the kingdom of God has arrived. It’s already here because He came and He reigns.

  “All these things shall be added to you” means God takes care of the rest. When our focus and lives are centered upon Him, God has our backs. Thankfully, He’s strong enough to have my front as well.

  Taking everything to God means a daily offering of our lives—every fiber of our being—to Christ and submitting to His authority. We are to ask Him for strength and should trust Him to provide everything we need to persevere. This isn’t a head game. It’s a heart reality.

  One verse later, Jesus gives us a final, crucial assurance: “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

  In other words, live the cliché: one day at a time. Don’t worry about how tomorrow will be impacted if you mess up today and fall off the wagon and land in the buffet line.

  Tomorrow is a new day. Start fresh.

  Revival

  I can think of no better way to close this final chapter than to share some of the benefits of my weight loss. The results are worth the trek. I have seen a revival in my spiritual, sexual, and physical lives.

  When I think of the QWLCA plan, the first word that comes to mind is discipline. The second is intimacy. They may seem unconnected, but I found they are interdependent.

  It’s easy to assume losing weight spices up your sex life, but you have to live it to appreciate it. It’s amazing what losing a spare tire does for the engine.

  Donna and I are having more fun because we have fewer rolls to get past and it’s not a chore anymore. Donna used to frown and say, “Oh, I’ve got to do this?”

  I don’t collapse into bed from fatigue anymore. Before, I climbed into bed and asked, “You wanna do it? Well, come over here because it’s too much work to roll over there.” It’s like anything else. You have to have energy for it. Now that I’m slim I like to remind Donna that studies show sex burns calories just like walking and running. I smile and wiggle my eyebrows at her.

  “We need to burn some calories, baby. It’s part of the diet.”

  If a man and woman are married, God wants them to have intimate relations, and my intimacy with Donna is much better now that we’ve lost weight. Sometimes sex is involved, sometimes it’s not. The improved intimacy includes times we lie in bed and talk. And we talk and talk some more. That intimacy has deepened. It correlates with the intimacy we want with God, the kind in which we can share anything with Him and go as deep as we’re willing.

  A life-changing challenge, even if it’s one we didn’t ask for, often has the result of drawing loved ones closer to each other. In our case, the weight loss also pulled us closer to the Lord. He empowered the weight loss to begin with, and we talked to Him more as He helped us persevere.

  In the intimacy of prayer, we don’t have to pray a King James prayer. We should talk to God like He’s our best friend, because He is. He knows our struggles. He knows our weight problems, addictions, sexual issues, loneliness, or whatever we face. He wants us to kneel before Him, lay it at His feet, and be transparent—even when we need to complain.

  Sometimes I have to vent to people just to get something off my chest. Donna sometimes says, “Why are you mad at me?”

  I have to tell her, “I’m not mad. I’m just venting. I just need to get rid of it.”

  It’s OK to vent to God sometimes. He’ll listen. God is God. It’s not like you’re going to change His essence with your words. Yes, He is holy. He is all-powerful God. Respect Him? Of course. Ho
nor Him? Of course. Worship Him? Of course—but worship Him in spirit and in truth.

  Part of that truth is being willing to talk with Him about everything. He already knows everything anyhow. It’s not like we ever surprise Him. Prayer is for us, not God. An unchanging God gave us access to Him for prayer to change us, not to change His mind. We should come to Him boldly, as the Bible instructs, and that means we should boldly be ourselves because He knows us anyway.

  In another conversation, Mark told me, “Never ask questions of God accusatively, but it’s OK to ask inquisitively.” Instead of saying, “Why did you let this happen to me?” say instead, “Why is this happening to me, Lord? Teach me. This is hard. It’s no fun. Nevertheless, not my will be done but Your will be done.”

  We are laid naked and bare before Him to whom we must give an account, the writer of Hebrews says. Goodness gracious, if He’s going to see that hideous sight, why shouldn’t we be blunt and honest with Him?

  Marriage is a spiritual union, and my wife and I are closer spiritually after this monumental undertaking. We tackled a shared goal, achieved it, and learned mutual lessons along the way. It motivated me to think, “Hey, why can’t we have a shared goal in Bible study or in prayer?”

  When we discipline ourselves in eating and weight control, it correlates with how we react to God and how we practice the spiritual disciplines of Bible study and prayer. It correlates with the discipline of obedience, where we let our yes be yes and our no be no.

  I’ve noticed undisciplined people often are undisciplined in most areas of their lives, including in matters of ethics. This discipline deficit often shows during perhaps the single most difficult hour of the week—when the alarm clock goes off on Sunday morning and launches the first salvo in the mental battle of rousing the family and heading to church.

  We’re supposed to forsake not the assembling of ourselves because God knows we need each other. Satan does too, and that’s why he puts sleeping gas in the ceiling fan on Sundays.

  Now that I’m healthier I’m awake more often to study my Bible. I’m trying to get back to studying Scripture in-depth. I read in short spurts. But when I was fat, my spurts still weren’t short enough. I couldn’t hold out. I stayed groggy, my brain a pickled haze from the flush of foods, and I’d conk in the middle of my study. I’m embarrassed to admit that on more than one occasion I got down on my knees to pray and the next thing I knew it was 6 a.m. I fell asleep on my knees by the bed.

  I’ve fallen asleep while lying in bed and talking to my wife. As I drifted, I snapped myself out of it to make sure I paid attention, but then I’d hear a faint, “Scott, are you listening to me?” You hate to do that with your wife or with God, but at least God is more patient.

  I’m more alert now. I don’t fall asleep on either.

  In my fat days, I often was asleep before the plane taxied to the runway and I didn’t wake up until someone nudged me as people collected their bags from the overhead compartments to deplane. On my trips now, I may take a small nap but usually I’m wide awake. The first time I stayed awake I looked down and thought, “Oh, look. They have magazines in the back of the seats. I never noticed that.”

  Another spiritual benefit is I’m awake to share the Gospel with people on the plane. I haven’t done that in years because of my size and drowsiness. I’ve been convicted about it because I’ve sat on the plane before and thought, “OK, if I don’t say anything, maybe nobody will bother me.”

  Years ago, when I first started flying, I took advantage of witnessing opportunities with my captive audience. I’ve had people pray to receive Christ right there in the airplane seat. I am burdened to witness to people more often, and now that I don’t drool on them anymore they’re more receptive to the Gospel.

  The New Me

  I always heard the clichés that significant weight loss restores energy and stamina, and now I know it’s true. I even have more time in the day. I go to bed earlier and rise earlier. I sleep less but I sleep better because I don’t have sleep apnea. I’m not waking up wheezing, coughing, and gasping for breath. I’m not getting up multiple times to go to the bathroom and verging on diabetes with dry mouth.

  I walk places whenever I travel now. Before, I stayed in my hotel room. Donna and I went to Las Vegas not long ago. I did a concert at a church but stayed a couple of extra days for Donna to celebrate her birthday there. The city’s slogan is, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” She figured if she turned another year older while we were out there she could come back home and the extra year would remain in Vegas.

  I did my concert on Sunday and spent the next three days enjoying one of the benefits of weight loss. I don’t get as winded anymore.

  We stayed at the MGM Grand, a great hotel. But, again, I’m cheap. I rented the cheapest room, something akin to a closet. In fact, housekeeping kept knocking on the door not to clean it but to ask for toilet paper and bottles of cleaner. They thought it was the custodial closet. It was tiny.

  We planned to use the Internet at the hotel until I saw the fee. I don’t know why big hotels charge you through the nose for Internet access. Go to Microtel or Motel 6 and you get free Internet. Go to a posh joint and you need to see a loan officer to surf the web.

  We decided to walk to Starbucks for coffee and free Internet access. I didn’t realize until I looked up directions on my iPhone that Starbucks was more than two miles away. We walked the strip for 2.2 miles. I never would’ve been able to make it when I was tubby. I would’ve paid the exorbitant Internet rate to keep from having to leave the hotel. It rejuvenated me to discover I wasn’t winded when I reached the coffee shop.

  I had a membership at Gold’s Gym one year when I was big. I went four times all year. One day I lumbered over to the treadmill and cranked it up. I set the pace on Three, which would seem slow for most folks but felt pretty fast for a 300-pounder.

  Now I average the same speed I tried on that treadmill but I do it for exercise while Donna and I talk, enjoy the fellowship, say hello to neighbors, and get to know people.

  When you’re too big, you lose out on many small pleasures. I’m actually able to bend over now. I can always tell when a big person ties his shoes because the shoestring knot is always off to one side. Crazy as it sounds, I have enjoyed a mental boost and motivation knowing my shoestring knot is in the middle again. Just wearing shoes with strings feels like a return to normalcy.

  I didn’t anticipate a shrinking waistline would make my house bigger but it did. I had to get rid of a ton of big clothes. I’ve been to Goodwill probably six times in a little over a year, and I’m still finding 3X and 4X pants and shirts I never plan to wear again.

  My closet is probably two-thirds empty. I’m slowly buying new clothes, shopping for nicer items at more fashionable stores. Quality or designer clothes often are cut smaller. It’s rare to find them for big and tall people. Instead of draping material over me that happens to be sewn together in a massive seam, I can wear form-fitting shirts from nicer stores. I’m still cheap enough to search out the clearance rack, but dressing nice makes me feel a little better about myself. It’s a reward for my hard work. I’m more confident, and it shows even in my conversations.

  Another benefit is I can sit on an airplane and not feel like I’ll need a crowbar to get up when we touch down. Perhaps this little achievement isn’t important for everyone, but when you travel to make a living, airplanes and airports are a way of life. I also have slack in the airplane seatbelt. Before, I was right on the verge of having to use a seat belt extension. I had to use it twice on smaller planes, but on the big jets I was barely able to squeak by without the humiliation of needing the extension. I’ve seen others do the Hand Raise of Shame to request the extension, and I thought, “I don’t want to be that way.” It made me mad at myself that I was even close to that point.

  Eric Jackson, my road manager of eleven years, traveled with me during my behemoth days and watched me suck in my gut and pull the seatbelt so tight it a
ppeared stretched thin in the middle when I buckled it. If it had snapped and hit a flight attendant in the forehead it would’ve killed her. I was a walking weapon of mass destruction and Mr. TSA never knew it.

  But now, I punch Eric in the ribs and say, “Lookie there. Ain’t that cool? There’s two feet of slack.” I laughed out loud the first time I did it.

  Even walking down the airport concourse is different. In the past, Eric had to carry everything because I was worn out. He hasn’t traveled with me as much lately, but I don’t need him to carry my stuff anymore. I can do it now. I even walk up flights of stairs. In the past, you may as well have asked me to scale Everest. On my rare trips to the mall or anywhere else that has steps, I skip the elevator and use the stairs as exercise.

  Donna’s weight loss produced unexpected results. She’s more alert and no longer has hot flashes and moodiness. Bless her heart, she can be moody. (Have you ever noticed when a Southerner starts a sentence with “Bless her heart” something bad comes next?) Sometimes, she can be mean. One day, I called her Sybil and asked her which person was planning to show up that day. I found out which one real fast. Eating healthy changed the chemicals in her body, made her feel better, and improved her mood.

  Which improved my mood.

  As portly as I got, I never experienced depression. I guess I fit the mold of the quintessential fat, jolly guy. Donna has battled depression before, and I didn’t understand it. When my wife dealt with clinical depression, nothing else was wrong with her except depression. Our marriage was fine. Our finances were fine. Her work was fine. We got along fine. Still, depression gripped her. I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been down before, but I don’t grasp depression because I’ve never been there.

  I angered Donna when I’d say, “Just go out. Do something. Have fun. Go to the store. Shop. Let’s just get out and go.” She wanted to ring my neck. It was like a skinny person looking at me when I was 300 pounds and saying, “Just quit eating. Put the fork down. Chew.” As if the notion had never crossed my mind.