“God cares about what we eat.” Wait – did I hear that correctly? My sponsor in Overeaters Anonymous said this to me the first time we met, and it was very hard for me to believe. In fact, it almost did not register, like a plane that doesn’t quite make the runway. Why would a Higher Power or Almighty God care about what I chew and swallow? Sounds like micromanaging to me. Doesn’t He (or She) have better things to do?
If I believe that, I have to ask myself at what point God stops caring. At what point does He say, “Well, you’re on your own, kid”? If I am told in Luke 12:7 that even the hairs on my head are numbered, do I still believe God is uninterested in details? What stops me from believing God can handle it all? That He is too busy? That He’s strapped for time and has too much on His mind? Please just leave a message with His secretary?
If we have anthropomorphized God, it must be in this area, where we put our human limitations of time, caring, and interest on His infiniteness. David the Psalmist says his Lord knit him together in the womb and saw him even in the most secret place – that He knew when David got up or arose. God knit your body together. He designed mine. He matched the food of the earth to the needs and amazing mechanisms of our bodies, and everything works so precisely. There is the breath of intention in everything that God creates, and if He made my body to be His temple, then He must care what food fuels me.
I believe and have seen in my own life the truth that our bodies reflect our relationship with God. I have seen that, as I become more comfortable in my own skin, my body starts releasing the weight that I used to help hide myself. Understanding that my Higher Power sees who I am and loves me was probably the first step. It allows me to look at myself and see more truth. It allows me to see others and accept them, as well.
Living in right relationship with God, myself, and others means that I do not have to hide – that God will not leave me and that He made me to be a sibling with my fellows. Maybe I can even be ok with myself. Maybe I can accept that God knows the number of hairs on my head and, just maybe, I can start to believe that God cares how I fuel my body, His workmanship.