I hate my bathroom scale.

It has no sense of loyalty whatsoever. I mean, all I did was overeat just a teensy bit last weekend, and it actually turned on me, claiming I had gained four pounds in three days.

That’s gratitude for you. I bought the scale in good faith. I placed it in a prominent place in the bathroom. I regularly replace the batteries to ensure complete accuracy. And now, with no warning at all, it mockingly flashes extra poundage at me.

The scale is obviously mistaken. I mean, I admit to savoring three pieces of my mom-in-law’s world-famous chocolate pie—but I was standing up when I ate them. And we all know those calories don’t count. I also sneaked a few items off Roy’s tray when we went out Saturday night. But it’s common knowledge that food originating from someone else’s plate is completely void of calories or fat grams.

And yes, I confess to inhaling a half-dozen doughnuts in one sitting. But that was only because I feared recrimination for leaving just two or three in the box. I had to eat them all in order to destroy the evidence that they ever existed in the first place.

So you see, the scale’s claims are completely unfounded and irresponsible. But just as a precautionary measure, I plan to limit my snacking this week to low-cal popcorn. To help the taste, however, I’ll need to use just a teensy-weensy bit of butter. . .

Father, sometimes my lack of discipline amazes even me.  Help me to give everything to You,
including my eating habits.  I want to glorify You in all things.

Do not join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rags. Proverbs 23:20-21

(From Time Out: A Quiet-time Devotional)