I never considered myself an idol worshiper. I love Jesus Christ, He resides in my heart, and I’ve asked Him to be Lord over every part of my life. Yet, as I prayed for a closer walk with Him, He graciously showed me that I was indeed, an idolater.
No, I didn’t have gods made of wood or stone, although the electronic box that sits enthroned in a fine wooden cabinet toward which all of our furniture is postured in the living room could be considered a god of sorts. I didn’t worship the starry hosts or bow down, figuratively or literally, to a little marble fat man. Yet an idolater I was.
The god that I had innocently allowed to take center platform in my heart was my own body. I had started exercising after my first child was born to get back into shape. That was fine and expected for my health. However, over the years I had allowed my exercise routines to grow and consume more time in my days. I had to work out every morning regardless of my schedule for the day. While I had learned that washing even one load of laundry before my morning Bible reading could distract me, still I’d often exercise first–just in case I wouldn’t have time later.
In a busy day with a schedule full of things “to do,” I didn’t want to miss the endorphins that so pleasantly flooded my brain when I did cardio exercises. I didn’t want to chance a new bump here or lower sag there. I HAD to exercise every morning or I didn’t feel good; I felt incomplete. Often that left no time for reading God’s Word or praying and listening to Him. I had become greedy with my time.
There are few times and places in my life when my mouth is actually shut. Gardening, vacuuming and showering are among those times. One morning while showering after a particularly grueling workout, I heard the Lord speak firmly, lovingly, but quite clearly into my heart. He told me that I always found time to exercise, often pushing Him out for the entire day. He reminded me how I felt when articles I wrote for the religion section of the newspaper for which I worked, were bumped for other news. I had loudly complained that “sports are their gods!” Then He posed the most uncomfortable, convicting question to me: “Aren’t you making your body your god?”
“Umm. Umm. Well, God, isn’t taking care of my body–YOUR temple–important?” No response. Suddenly I knew He was right. I couldn’t rationalize my way out of it. I was making my body my god. I had become an idolater!
A new commitment was necessary if I was to advance in my Christian walk. Reading God’s Word had to become a priority for real. Now I make sure I read the Bible first before anything else. When shopping for a new exercise DVD, I check its length. If it’s more than 40 minutes long, I won’t buy it. Now my body is not my god. I’m still healthy. I’m still in shape. I’m just not consumed with perfection or an irrational “must do” list.
There have been other times God has had to remind me about my priorities. Putting anything before Him is wrong. When I obsess over money, or the lack of it, and allow it to consume my thoughts, money becomes my idol. Colossians 3:5 says, “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry.”
God taught me that anything that comes before Him and my time with Him is unacceptable; it is idolatry. Anything that consumes my thoughts and my heart, other than Him, is idolatry. As Jesus said in Matthew 6:21, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Now if something urgent takes me away in the morning before I can read the Bible or commune with God, I feel incomplete–not convicted–just unfulfilled, like I haven’t had breakfast. I hunger for time with Him; I thirst for His word. I asked how I could grow closer to Him and He graciously showed me, quietly yet clearly in the shower one morning.
About Kelly Stigliano
Kelly J. Stigliano has been writing and speaking for over 3 decades. She and Jerry have celebrated more than 30 wedding anniversaries together—all proof of God’s redemptive power! Kelly made bad choices for years and shares the lessons she’s learned along the way, hoping to keep others from making the same mistakes. Because no one benefits when we wear masks, she tries to stay transparent. “Everyone has skeletons in their closets, but my closets don’t have doors on them!”
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