Scott Freeman

A New Man

I’m 75% of the man I used to be.

I start 2005 weighing 60+ pounds less than I began
2004. A somewhat rigid combination of
diet and exercise were the keys to my extreme makeover.

That is quite an accomplishment for the guy in the past
whose idea of a healthy meal were extra onions on a hamburger and whose
exercise regimen consisted of running to the refrigerator between commercial
breaks. (I wanted a house where the
living room television was viewable from the kitchen. That would have eliminated the rash decisions of choosing what to
eat before the game resumes. But, alas,
it was not to be.)

One problem that arose due to my weight loss was the fact
that none of my clothes fit me anymore. (That may be a good thing when you consider I was still harboring shirts
from the late 80’s.)

Well, this past week I decided to do something about
it: I cleaned out my closet and
dresser.

When I was done, there was a tremendous pile of clothes that
no longer fit. Left behind were a
handful of clothes that I could wear without feeling I was wearing a potato
sack.

I decided to donate my wardrobe to the Clothes Garden.

“But wait,” I thought, “what if I gain all that weight
back? Then I will have nothing to
wear. Maybe I should keep a few pieces
just in case.”

Then I began looking closer at the donated pieces and
realized that some of those articles of clothing were incredibly
comfortable. “Maybe I’ll keep a few of
the T-shirts for around the house.”

Then I thought about the cost. It’s going to be expensive to replace all those clothes. Especially my “going to meeting”
clothes. Maybe I should keep the dress
pants.

Before long, I wasn’t getting rid of much at all. A few worn-out pieces that I had needed to
get rid of anyway.

Isn’t that the way many of us live our spiritual lives. Instead of fully embracing the new person
that Christ has called us to be, we hedge our bets. We give only our castoffs: sins long overcome, token church attendance,
half-hearted devotion.

We fail to give all of the old so God can recreate us.

We hold on to the past and refuse eternity.

We look back instead of moving forward.

And to justify our unwillingness to be transformed we use
the same old excuses:

1) Uncertainty-what
if I gain the weight back?

It will do me no good to live in
fear of the old life. I need to
celebrate the new life, the new outlook and approach that God has given
me.

2) Comfort-but
what if my new clothes don’t fit as well?

Let’s face it, just like old
clothes, the sinful life can be pretty enjoyable. We enjoy the allure, the seduction, of vice and sinful
habit. It is what we know and to leave
that behind for something new can be overwhelming.

3) Cost-But
how can I afford a new wardrobe?

I need to go buy some new shirts
this week. It is going to cost some
money. But a new life costs. So does the Christian life. There is no crown without a cross. There is no new life without a death before
it.

When I came to my senses I loaded up the van and got rid of
those old clothes. Now I have an almost
empty closet but I am filled with the hope of a better life. Free of the weight that has held me back for
so long.

When we give God all of our old clothes then He is able to
clothe us in something far better: the very essence and person of Jesus.

Let’s be sacrificial this new year. Clean out the closet. Allow Him to remake you and transform you.

Quote of the Week:

The cross is
laid on every Christian. It begins with the call to abandon the attachments of
this world. It is that dying of the old man which is the result of his
encounter with Christ. As we embark upon discipleship we surrender ourselves to
Christ in union with His death — we give over our lives to death. Since this
happens at the beginning of the Christian life, the cross can never be merely a
tragic ending to an otherwise happy religious life. When Christ calls a man, He
bids him come and die . . .In fact, every command of Jesus is a call to die,
with all our affections and lusts. But we do not want to die, and therefore
Jesus Christ and His call are necessarily our death and our life.

Dietrich
Bonhoffer