Ain't Bigger Than a Minute

It's funny to me how things my mom used to say will randomly pop into my head ... sometimes it's something I'm doing or somewhere I'm going or something I see or something I smell that will trigger me to recall what she used to say. With all the food-related activities that accompany Thanksgiving, all day I've been thinking about what Mom used to say when a person was thin ... "Lord, help! She ain't bigger than a minute!" And since Mom was deaf in one ear, she often spoke those words loudly enough for everyone around her to hear. I distinctly remember one such instance when we were shopping ... actually, I remember many times when Mom loudly announced her opinion in a public place. And while I was often embarrassed back then, I would give everything I own to be able to take Mom shopping again no matter what her commentary might be ... everything I own, friends.

My son Matt called last night to ask what I wanted for Christmas, and as we talked, he asked me what size jeans I wear. When I told him what size I now wear, he asked what size I wore two years ago. Now two years ago, I would have never told my sweet son what size jeans I wore ... never ever. And I would have also had a stern talk with him about not asking me what size my clothes were. But last night ... last night, I told him that before I was diagnosed with diabetes, I wore a size 22 in jeans and had to leave the button at the waist undone because they were too tight. The last pair of jeans I bought a few weeks ago were a size 6 ... if my math is correct, that means I've gone down eight sizes in jeans. I don't think I've ever worn a size 6 until now, even when I was young and much slimmer than I was as an adult. Matt's response was, "Wow, Mom ... wow. I bet you would have never imagined that you'd be wearing a 6 in jeans, huh? I'm proud of you, Mom ... really proud of you."

All day today, I've been thinking about my conversation with Matt last night, and I couldn't help but think about what my mom would have said about the change in my appearance over the last couple of years. I couldn't help but remember a time when she came to visit and I picked her up at the airport and she announced to everyone within earshot that she could tell I had lost a little weight. I couldn't help but think that were I picking her up at the airport today, she would have proudly announced to everyone around her ... "Lord, help! My girl ain't bigger than minute!" But here's the thing ... I also couldn't help but think about how many times I look in the mirror and still see the size 22 me rather than the size 6 me. And I couldn't help but think about how many times I look in the mirror of my heart and still see the me I was all those years ago before I met Christ.

The more I thought about Matt and Mom and Thanksgiving and food and what size I used to wear and who I used to be and how much my life has changed over the last couple of years, a verse from God's Word lodged itself in my mind. A verse that reminds me to look in the mirror with His eyes, His heart, His love.

"Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come." 2 Corinthians 5:17