Does God Care?

After Black Friday, I stepped on my talking weighing scale, and her voice taunted as she announced the dreaded news. I racked up pounds the same way I loaded my plate during Thanksgiving meals. It will be Christmas and New Year's day in less than a month. Meaning, I might acquire the snowman's shape after the holidays.
 
We all expect to gain weight over the holidays in our blessed country and plan on dropping them after the season. But the dynamics changed in the so-called "new normal." What do you do when the food you stock up on holds you hostage during the lockdown? When regular walks to the parks and gym sessions are replaced by virtual activities?
 
It was midyear when I realized that the drier didn't shrink my clothes. Instead, I gained twenty-plus pounds. I set a small goal of dropping five pounds each month so that it would be achievable. The first months were successful until my weight plateaued. 
 
I tried eating a balanced diet, exercising harder, skipping meals, but nothing worked. For a season, I've been prepping grilled chicken and spinach meals. A saying goes, "You become what you eat." Grilled chicken had been my staple for so long that I once dreamt I'd grown feathers. On one occasion, while mechanically chewing spinach leaves, a graphic picture of me with horns, walking on all fours and bleating like a sheep etched itself on my mind. 
 
"Is it really too hard to lose weight?" my mind despaired.
 
"Not unless you're a glutton," my soul retorted. Or was that the devil's voice?
 
"That does it," I cried and consulted two close friends who bragged about dropping fifteen pounds through intermittent fasting."

Intermittent fasting, rather starvation, did work. After all, the Bible says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst." But after a no-holds-barred vacation at my brother's, which highlighted an endless buffet of food and gossip, I gained twice the pounds I lost. I was back to square one. I looked up experts’ advice. Professionals say my age has slowed my metabolism down. Or I need to eat according to my blood type. Or this diet is better than whatever I'm doing. As a matter of fact, after trying almost everything out there, only my wallet got skinny!
 
At the brink of despair, I finally brought my concern to the Lord. Isn't it funny how even the most aged Christians (counting years, not maturity) treat prayer as a last resort? We usually take a problem to God when all things fail. He's like that lifeline friend we call on game shows. 

Why do we look to God as a desperate remedy instead of our ever-present help?
Because we don't treat God like Father. We call Him Heavenly Father, but we forget God cares so much that He even knows the number of hairs on our heads. If we believe in our hearts that He deeply cares, we will go to Him for everything and anything. As a kid, I asked Dad to help look for the pen I misplaced or why my puppy wasn't eating – I'd ask about everything that could be insignificant to adults. And, my earthly father didn't mind helping and giving advice.

In the gospels, Jesus says:
 
 "Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God."
 
I don't act like a child of the Kingdom when I presume God should not be troubled about my plateauing weight or socks I couldn't pair because He's fixing global issues like the Afghanistan war and the pandemic. I turned to experts and friends before I consulted God. I've forgotten what it’s like to have a father who cares.
 
Most of the time, we relate to God like a boss rather than as a father. We're aware of God's attributes and characteristics in the same way we know our boss' resume. We generally go to our boss only for work-related concerns. On the other hand, when we’ve developed an intimate relationship with our authority, we can enjoy a casual conversation about how the sweet potato we had for breakfast is causing bottom burps or discuss other personal issues.
 
Christians lose sight of knowing and enjoying an intimate relationship with God. We feel obliged to read the Bible, pray, go to church, and we succeed at looking like a Christian, but not becoming a child of God. What we do to achieve maturity eventually becomes routine, or sometimes, a burden. Thus, we end up working for our salvation instead of receiving grace and trusting Him.
 
Today marks the beginning of advent, a time for recollecting the first Christmas, resting on our Lord's promises, and preparing for His second coming. Two thousand years ago, God sent His Son so we can not only  be reconciled to the Father, but be His children. No formula or checklist could transform our hearts from being spiritual orphans to children of God. A good start would be to meditate on what marvelous love the Father has extended to us that we're called children of God!

​Are we getting to know Him as Father? Are there any blessings our Heavenly Daddy wouldn't gladly and freely give us since He didn't spare His only son? What are some seemingly insignificant troubles you don’t normally turn to God for that He would love you to trust him with?