The thing I say in my head all the time and sometimes out loud to my phone screen is, “JUST LET ME TURN INTO AN OLD LADY!” It is annoying that culture is so desperate for me to be a spry young thing forever. It’s not like age will turn me into a sea dragon or a purple-headed people eater. Just an old lady. Why can’t I turn into an old lady? I thought we liked those?

Even when I was younger, culture wasn’t particularly happy about it. I was led to believe that I had to have a particular body shape and laser sharp personal style and hair not in the shape of a triangle. Culture never really took those demands away, just added to them with a firm, “Also, getting older is gross!” Ironically, my annoyance over this constant narrative this is giving me frown lines, a furrowed brow, and old lady crankiness. UGH I JUST WANT TO BE UNCOOL AND OLD AND LUMPY AND LEFT ALONE. Get off my lawn!

I think this is why I am prone to cry when that one Billy Joel song comes on: “Don’t go changin’ to try and please me.” Something about the melody and the lyrics matches a soul craving of mine, and with every reminder of outer imperfection, I long to have it sung over me: “I love you just the way you are.” What a treasure to be loved like this, to be met with zero suggestions for external improvement. To be loved, come what may, whether it’s wrinkles or pounds or gray hairs or uncool clothes or whatever else the world says I should reshape when I look in the mirror.

This soul craving is one of the reasons that historically, I get furious between Christmas and New Year’s. The violent shift from December’s “here drink literal chocolate and build houses with literal cookies and stuff socks with actual candy” into January’s shame-and-salad-flavored “drop and give me 20” nauseates me. (This is an annual rant, and you are welcome to poke around for previous years' content if you need the catharsis.)

Honestly, I have always had an allergy to the “new year new you” narrative, and I have noticed that its severity depends upon my spiritual health. When I am less spiritually healthy, the word “goal” fills me with rage and causes me to snarl and want to challenge any goal-evangelists I encounter to a duel. (Obviously they would win.)

When I am more spiritually healthy, I can discern that culture has missed the mark while also remembering that I am designed to grow to be more like Christ. Wonderfully, this growth is not about outward shaping but about inner transformation that overflows to the outside. Goals can be a tool for godly growth, and the gospel frees me from being under the oppression of culture’s self improvement obsession. Goal-setting and such can be done wisely and can be used by God for the display of His glory in my life and to help me enjoy Him and His gifts more.

Anyway, I thought I’d share one of my guiding principles that helps me partner with God for the purpose of transformation in a culture that tempts me to transform myself. Here’s the principle: Am I STEWARDING or SHAPING?

This guiding principle is for any pursuit related to the body: aging and eating, wearing and weighing—you get what I mean. Built into it is the idea that God is my Shaper, and He has called me to steward what He has given.

It looks like this: If I found myself desiring to commit to a particular exercise program, for example, I would try to discern if my motivation was STEWARDING my body for God’s glory or SHAPING my body for my glory.

STEWARDING might say, “I believe exercise will help me serve God better and honor the body He has given me. I can commit myself to a workout plan to steward the gift of my body and the gift of the service I am called to do. I believe God is my shaper, and I will trust Him to shape me into His image through this.”

SHAPING might say, “I believe through exercise I can shape my body in a way that helps me avoid shame and find approval from myself and others.”

The former is going to grow on the inside and enjoy being shaped by God—and the latter is going to be enslaved by the outside and miss out on God’s life-giving shaping in this area.

Frequently the Bible invites us to pay attention to our lives. (I recently noticed this in Haggai: “Think carefully about your ways.”) This time of year, it seems particularly wise to pay attention not just to our goals but to the motives lurking behind them. After all, Christians aren't safe from culture’s obsessions, but it's easy to pretend we are.

For example, this summer I noticed Christian women attempting to redeem TikTok’s “hot girl summer” (lots of water, work out in a matching set, have your greens, etc.) by promoting something called “holy girl summer” (all of the above plus Bible reading and prayer). Nothing is wrong with the list, but it all made me itchy. (Allergies, you know.) I don't know the hearts of the women who offered these videos, and they have the benefit of the doubt from me for sure. But if you’ll let me expose my own heart, here's what my motive would have been to offer that kind of content: to shape myself and to have people admire it. To prioritize outer idealism over inner transformation. (Some OT prophetic words come to mind—Isaiah 58, Joel 2:13, Zechariah 7:5-6—and the sharpness of 2 Timothy 3:5: “holding to the form of godliness but denying its power.”)

When we are caught up in a “shaping” mindset, we have forgotten the gospel and are in desperate need of God’s tender care. (Sister, is this you? Here’s an idea for how you can sit in God’s care: Write down everything you’re feeling or discerning in yourself in prayer to God. Read Psalm 139 over several days and look up any words you only kind of understand. Perhaps spend your workout time going on walks and listening to this text or seeking to memorize it. When you see Him better, you will better understand how to see yourself.)

Here’s what I know because I have experienced it and am often tempted to fall into it again: A Christian can interact with her Shaper through careful spiritual disciplines and not be inoculated against the obsession to shape herself. But, the fruit it bears is toxic. (As Romans 8:6 says, “Now the mindset of the flesh is death, but the mindset of the Spirit is life and peace.”) Following Jesus is not about sprinkling spiritual flavorings atop the to-do list—it means that every inch of ourselves is in His hands.

Following Jesus can't usually be captured with a tidy list.

Following Jesus may mean going to the gym because the Holy Spirit is using this to help you steward your body and grow in discipline.

But sometimes following Jesus may mean staying home sometimes because the Holy Spirit has helped you see that you are desperate to commodify your body. Or bask in the approving gaze of another. Or armor yourself against shame. Or avoid self-hate. Or something else altogether.

Of course, we don’t need to analyze ourselves to death, but as we walk with God, we’ll sense a prompting to reflect, and we can be faithful to do it. The SHAPING/STEWARDING framework helps me discern these kinds of things, and though the answer is often painful, it always produces life in me. (Psalm 139:23-24 is always a helpful prayer: Lord, MRI my heart and see if there’s anything that grieves you. Lead me in the way of life!)

In short, I am allergic to January, and yet I can admit this: We Christians have a wonderful opportunity this January to walk not by resolutions—but by the Spirit. My goal is to grow older and fatter in my soul (Psalm 63:5, 2 Peter 3:18) in 2023, and I am trusting God to show me what to pick up and what to lay down so that He can shape me to look more like Him this time next year.