None of these things move me...

None of these things move me.

A simple sentence. It was the title of something that I read several weeks ago that has stayed with me. You see, the title was meant one way and I took it another. That is, I did until I continued to read and the meaning became clear. I was surprised to find that I was reading about a completely different subject than what I was prepared for. I started wondering how many people would automatically interpret the sentence the way I did.

None of these things move me.

When you read it, what does it mean to you?

To me when I read it I thought it meant that the article was going to be about “things” that didn’t arouse the authors emotions. You know, like when you watch what is supposed to be a touching scene in a movie and it doesn’t make you feel the way it’s intended to. I was even prepared for it to be about how our hearts don’t break for the things that break Christ’s heart; that we aren’t moved to action the way we are called to in Matthew 25:40 “The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”

Would it surprise you as much as it surprised me to find out the actual meaning was that none of the things the author was talking about changed her faith in Christ or moved her from Him? Here I was expecting a complaint about how nothing made her feel something, or a message about not feeling moved to do something and instead I get a message of strength and rejoicing.

None of these things move me! I stand firm in the promise of The Lord!

But how? How do we go from listening to our hearts and our minds to being able to STAND FIRM? I think His Words will always be better than mine, so how about I start with them?

Ephesians 6:11-17

Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.

Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.

Stand firm therefore, HAVING GIRDED YOUR LOINS WITH TRUTH, and HAVING PUT ON THE BREASTPLATE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, and having shod YOUR FEET WITH THE PREPARATION OF THE GOSPEL OF PEACE; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take THE HELMET OF SALVATION, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

But what does all of that mean? Here is what it means to me:

Your Truth prepares us for the action required of us as men and woman. Your Righteousness guards our hearts. The knowledge that we have been saved safeguards our minds. We can walk safely because of Your Gospel of Peace. Faith in You defends us when we are attacked. Your Word is the only thing we need to use to fight with, because while it is also a defense, it is all the offence we need.

Oh, how many times have I doubted your promise God? How many times have I listened to lies and felt afraid or confused and moved from You. How many times have I misinterpreted something’s meaning because of how my emotions directed me instead of standing firm in You? How many times have I forgotten that my defenses are ALL found in You and that I can fight my fear and all that stands against me by going back to Your Word. I am so sorry Father that I waver, that I doubt, that I do not see with my human eyes the things you want to show me with Your Holy Spirit! I know that You have given me everything I need to stand firm. Please Lord, help me to remember that ‘None of these things move me!’

Wordless Wednesday

No, that's your friend!

I went over to Kristin's house last week to visit with her and her kids for the evening. Technically, we were supposed to babysit for another friend's kids together, but they got sick so we decided to still get together and hang out. My little friend Sage (Kristin's daughter) grabbed my lanyard to look at what was hanging from it.

I have a key card, my old photo ID and my new photo ID - in reverse order of course, but that's what's on there. Sage saw the new photo ID and said, "what's this?" I said "That's me." Then she flipped and saw the old photo ID and asked "What's this?" and I said "That's me too." To which Sage replied. "No, Miss Ahaaay, that's your friend!"

Her mom and I shared a smile over Sage's head and said "okay." and I put the badge away as Sage became distracted by something more exciting. Still, what is it they say "Out of the mouths of babes." ? Every time I see my badges at work I am reminded of what my 3 year old friend told me. "No, that's your friend!"

You see, on my weight loss journey, I have a hard time thinking of "fat me" as my friend and not someone to judge or someone to ignore or someone hiding just beneath the surface of "thinner me" waiting to take over my life again. I was "fat me" for so much of my life. When I look back I have a hard time accepting her joys and her triumphs and being proud of her and cheering for her and who she was instead of focusing on who she wasn't. Sometimes I think "how do I get there without going back there?" Maybe if I just listen to that 3 year old... one day it will sink in - "No, (that's not me) that's your friend!"

A Testimony of Blessing

When I was little, my mom let me go to a group one of her friend’s daughters belonged to. It was called AWANA and met at RBC. I was in Sparks and I LOVED it. We got to hang out and we learned stories from the felt board and if we memorized our bible verses we got to take home Sparkie (the firefly). It was as a visitor in this children’s ministry that I was taught John 3:16. In my heart I understood that it was the truth even though I was only 7 years old.

Maybe 7 seems too early to really know that you believe in Christ or to fully understand what it means to be saved from sin – when sin seems like such an adult concept. But I had already had to endure "adult" things because I had been molested so I had a firmer grasp on more adult concepts than most children my age, including sin. All I know is that when I memorized those words from John 3:16 it felt like they had been written in my heart and I believed they were as true as anything I could see and that I needed someone –Christ – to save me and that I wanted that kind of LOVE for myself.

And then I got older, and jaded by the world and my circumstances - which will be saved for an as yet unwritten post. While I don’t think I lost my Faith, I know lost my way. Life went the way it did, mostly without God being a present and accounted for part of it. Two years after John and I started trying to have children God began to call me again, but this time He shouted in my pain.

I felt like I was missing something. And it was more than just missing a baby because I don't think you can truly miss something if you never had it to begin with. I wanted a baby, but I was missing God and the peace I knew only He could give. I decided I needed to go back to His house and worship Him, even though I didn't really know how.

Which is when I ended up back at the very beginning… My friend Maggie told me I should come to her church and it turned out to be RBC – only this time, I got to go upstairs with the grown-ups! It’s almost as if He'd been waiting there for me all my life. He has put wonderful people in my path to be His hands and feet, to remind me of His truth. He reinforces it every day, in so many ways.

In this past year He has brought down walls in my life that I didn't even realize I had. I am still learning to walk with Him, to let Him lead me, and not try to lead myself. He has grown me and humbled me and shown me that I have SO much farther to go. But He gave me a husband to hold me up and walk with me. He also gave me a thirst for Himself so that it doesn't matter how far I have to go because I know without a doubt that I want to go there if that is where He is.

It was in that overwhelming thirst for Him that I heard Him speak to me most recently. I had rented a “cabin” at the library to finish up my Bible Study on Covenant. I prayed before I began my study, asking God to teach me what He wanted during my meditation and that He would help me put into practice everything He decided to show me. I would like to share what I learned with all of you.

The first thing He showed me was in Galatians 3:7-9:

Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham. Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: “All nations will be blessed through you.” So those who rely on faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith.
So – having gotten that I am a descendant of Abraham (and Sarah), I was then supposed to re-read a passage I had read before as part of the another study (Trusting God Even When Life Hurts). But this time God made it personal:

Isaiah 54:1
The Fertility of Zion
Shout for joy, O barren one, you who have borne no child;
Break forth into joyful shouting and cry aloud, you who have not travailed (been in labor);
For the sons of the desolate (barren/without hope/inconsolable) one will be more numerous
Than the sons of the married woman,” says the Lord.

Now I’m not Sarah. I know that literally speaking this is a passage where God is promising her that the messiah is coming through her line… that she’s going to have a baby and that her descendants will be more numerous than the sons of the slave woman who bore her husband’s first child.

But knowing that I am a descendant of Abraham and Sarah, the passage took on new meaning for me. For the son’s of the desolate one will be more numerous – because her son’s are all those that are saved! And mine can be too. God used His Word to remind me that even though I might never have children of my own… the love I give to the children in my life that I can’t give to my own flesh and blood, time with them when spent for Christ, will give me more children in heaven than I could ever have on earth.

Of course I can’t lie and tell you that children aren’t a treasure that I want, that I long for still, here on earth… BUT as we have been constantly reminded during the series on The Almighty Dollar vs. The Almighty God we are, according to Matthew 6:20, to “store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal;

And as I wrote this out to share with you God spoke to me again…I felt that desire to read further into Isaiah 54… and because I obeyed I was comforted once more when I saw a glimpse of my treasure in verses 11-14:

O Afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted,
Behold, I will set your stones in antimony, (lustrous, silver-white, crystalline material)
And your foundations I will lay in sapphires.
Moreover, I will make your battlements of rubies,
And your gates of crystal,
And your entire wall of precious stones.
All your sons will be taught of the LORD;
And the well-being of your sons will be great.
In righteousness you will be established; (recognized as truth, founded, permanently made)

So I get a multitude of children, all of them will be taught of the Lord, their well being will be great, plus I get sapphires, rubies, crystal, precious stones AND made Permanently Righteous… It's not my plan... but it sounds like one I could live with… forever.

Thankful

In shepherd group we answered the question “Have you ever felt completely alone or afraid?”. The question brought to mind one of the darkest times of my life. It was when I was struggling with what was later diagnosed as bi-polar disorder.

I was at a party, having a horrible time and pretending that everything was just fine. It got late and everyone around me had paired up and fallen asleep. I was left alone staring at a computer screen. I’m pretty sure I typed everyone at the party a cryptic e-mail of some sort while I sat there drowning in my own depression – angry that no one cared enough about me to look through my happy mask and see me slowly dying on the inside. I got up and left. I don’t remember waking anyone or saying goodbye. I didn’t know what I was doing I just knew that I had to leave right then. I walked out the door in the hazy pre-dawn light and got into my car and started to drive. I don’t remember many details of that evening, including where it was I drove to. What I do remember is the bridge... and the desire to turn the wheel and step on the gas so the car would go off the bridge and end my pain. As my hands started to steer the car ever so slightly toward the bridge barrier I found myself thinking that it would be just my luck to survive the crash and be paralyzed because then there really would be no way out. Quicker than thought my hands straightened the wheel and as I drove past the bridge and it’s temptation I began to shake. The tremors raced through my body and released a flood of tears. Frustrated and angry at my cowardice and my helplessness I didn’t know what to do, only that this had to stop.

I went through therapy and it has helped me in so many ways. But I still had times where I felt alone. When I met John I had reached a point where I felt that it was time to stop going to therapy. I had gotten off my medications and learned to handle my bi-polar swings before they became extreme. Still, even with all the wonderful things in my life, I feel alone sometimes and afraid and sad. But now that feeling is not complete because I know that God will always be with me no matter what. That He has a plan for me, even if it isn’t mine – and that He loves me so much He will never leave me or forsake me. And because He is a perfect and loving God, I can trust Him when I am afraid to trust anyone else or even myself.

Thinking about that bridge… I am thankful. I am thankful I am not the same girl I was then and that now I can see how Father was with me and how His hand guided me back to the road He meant me to travel instead of off the bridge I had selected.

Loop/Swoop/Pull!

I tend to be a transparent person. And no, it’s not just because I’m so pale you can basically see through me (although that’s true too). I believe that being honest is important. Even if some of the things I’m truthful about are sometimes embarrassing or painful, I feel like if I’m being asked a question, I should give a full and honest answer. The same goes for blogging. Which leads me to today’s transparency.

I used to have a hard time tying my shoes. I mean, when I was little, I remember getting frustrated because I just didn’t get the Loop/Swoop/Pull, Bunny round the tree through the hole lesson. My fingers just couldn’t seem to get it right. And for a long time I wore those lovely Velcro sneakers (enduring classmate ridicule) because I couldn’t get it together enough to tie a pair of shoelaces. Needless to say, once I did get it together – I was a shoe tying fool. I loved my laces.

But then something happened that made me hate the tying. I found that I couldn’t bring my foot to my knee to tie without hauling my foot in both hands to put it up there... I couldn’t get my fat rolls to smoosh enough in order to get my arms around my thunder thighs and allow my short stubby arms reach my shoes… Heaven forbid a lace come untied while out and about with nowhere to sit because there was no way I could get down on one knee and get back up again without having something solid to cling to when I tried to haul myself back up.

So, when I had to wear shoes that tied, I prayed that the laces would stay in their little bows… and when that prayer was answered with a “no”, and I had to tie them I’d look around for somewhere to sit or to raise my foot on so I wouldn’t have to bend down. When I tried to tie the shoes myself, I found that I couldn’t reach far enough around my fat to tie the laces in the center so I would just pull to the side of my body I could reach best and then double knot the laces once I got it done… which would leave me winded, which of course left me embarrassed. Or, if my husband was with me I would pout and hold my foot out to him making him kneel down and tie it. My mom did this with my dad and I always thought it was adorable… until I realized it was necessary for me to do it. Then, it just became an internal embarrassment that I dressed up in the “awwww, aren’t we cute” clothes of routine.

Then, this past Friday as we were in Baltimore with my cousin Brandi and her husband DJ, my shoe came untied. My husband pointed it out to me – and I didn’t lift it towards him and pout. I didn’t even think to try that old trick. No, I raised my foot up (without the use of my hands to haul it towards me) and while standing on one foot - I tied my laces in the center of my shoe – not on the side. I did it as if it were second nature, as if it had never been a problem. I didn’t think about it twice… until my husband expressed pride in the fact that he didn’t have to tie my shoes for me anymore. Embarrassing, yes… a moment I would imagine is akin to someone exclaiming in public “You went potty all by yourself” to a grown person. Do I wish I had never been at that point where it was necessary for him to be proud of me for tying my own shoes? Of course! But you know what? It’s a struggle that I went through and having it called out like that made me remember how much I love my laces! J

2 Chronicles 15:7 - Reward for your work

2 Chronicles 15:7 (NASB) says: "But you, be strong and do not lose courage, for there is reward for your work."

Sometimes along my journey I want to give up. Okay, often I want to give up - usually daily - right around the time I'm supposed to get out of bed and go to the gym I want to throw in the proverbial towel and call it a day because (as I used to say when I was very young) it's too hard and I'm too little!

But I get up (mainly because I cannot throw money away) and I keep going. That doesn't mean it isn't a struggle or that it isn't a fight because it is. When doubt creeps in the door I tend to fall into my typical cycle. That would be the one where I feel like nothing will ever change and think to myself "well then, why bother!" I get depressed and I pray and often my prayer or it's answer become a silly little blog post where selfishly I pour out words and sometimes gain some perspective in the process.

But 2 Chronicles 15:7 tells me that for my work there is a reward... and with this weight loss the only reward I have ever expected was to lose weight and have the physical body that God intended for me to have. I admit I feel great when people I love give me compliments or say that I'm motivational, but again, they're people I love - they have to be supportive - so you take it with a grain of salt, right? (although you probably shouldn't because sodium is really bad!)

In any case, I never really expected more reward than what I've already received, but today I was rewarded in my heart by two complete strangers:

Hi Renee,
AWESOME! When the scales aren't moving and I've been good, you'll be my motivation. I've printed your letters for my desk and my co-workers are really enjoying them. You GO GIRL!!!

Renee,
I've been flipping through posts this morning and was totally enthralled when I found your 'Dear John' letters to the last 50. You go, girl.I looked for your other posts and was touched by your humor, warmth and encouragement.I just wanted to say Thank You for making my day.
Jeri

The reward had very little to do with the work I've done physically and was mostly about my posting... which of course has everything to do with God. I am His child and part of what He knit in my mother's womb was a funny, positive, woman who has always hidden behind sarcasm and extra pounds of fat. (Due to the behavior of your dog letters, anyone?)

But, as I have been on my weight loss journey I have also been on a spiritual one. My reward today was the realization that I have shed more than pounds. He is whittling me into the woman He intends me to be, not the one I have tried to make of myself, the one I have tried to hide behind. To know that His design for me is beginning to show and has benefited a complete stranger is an unexpected blessing I was not prepared for - and I am Completely Thankful. (And a little teary, not gonna lie).

Saying Goodbye!

Dear 210’s…

I honestly don’t remember meeting you. Perhaps the ice cream coma I was in blurred our get-together from my mind. Whatever the case may be, I have to admit that I was a little horrified finding you here without my prior knowledge. I mean, I really thought waking up next to someone you don’t recognize only happened to people who completely lost control… In any case, I’m really very glad that you have decided to leave. I’d really appreciate it if you decided not to return.

Sincerely,

Renee


Dear 200’s…

I know we didn’t talk that much – you were only here for about a month before I realized I’d started spending all my time with the 190’s. I’d like to say I’m sorry that we didn’t get to spend more time together, but I have a feeling we’d both know it was a lie. After all, I’m pretty sure I’d spent at least a year with you before the 210’s made that little visit that freaked me out. I really do wish you the best with whoever you move on with. I just know that it won’t be me.

All the best!

Renee


Dear 190’s…

I feel that I need to apologize to you. I know I really made you think I wanted to be with you and I did! When we first met I was so excited to tell people about you… I mean we were together and I was beyond thrilled! By our first month anniversary our relationship had started to lose it’s appeal. I found myself wondering how long we would need to be together. I felt smothered by how you just always wanted to be with me. We had some good times, but I think we were meant to just be friends. I hope that you find someone better suited to you… perhaps a man? Only a suggestion!

Affectionately,

Renee

Dear 180’s…

We began our flirtation in June. Something about you just made me smile. Perhaps it was the way I felt with you while I was wearing that denim dress. I don’t know. But I do know that during our flirtation, I became attracted to the 170’s and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know that we weren’t committed to each other, still, I felt ashamed. But the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wanted better blood flow that could only be found with the 170’s. I’m hopeful that you will understand my desire to end things before anyone gets hurt. You really are great, and I know that there’s someone out there that is perfect for you – she’s just not me.

Fondly,

Renee


Dear 170’s…

We’ve been seeing each other since sometime in July, but I really feel like I need to break it off. It’s not that you weren’t fun – you were! I had a great summer with you. The thing is though, I got caught cheating on you and I wanted to tell you before someone else did. I was at the doctors and the 160’s were there and well… the nurse walked in and saw everything – and since the nurse knows you – well, I’ve been feeling guilty for a while now. I’ve always been attracted to the 160’s but that’s no excuse for stringing you along like this. I don’t want to keep living a lie until day I have to formally announce that you and I aren’t together anymore. I’d really just like for us to part as friends but I completely understand if that can’t happen. So, if we never meet again – you take care of yourself.

Best Wishes,

Renee


Dear 160’s…

I’ve been looking back on letters from the last 6 months and I’ve realized something. While I like you, and I’m happy to spend time with you and get to know you… I’m really not in the position to be in a long term relationship with you or anyone else right now. I’m just trying to figure out what I want. Right now you feel great, but I admit, I’ve been imagining what it might be like to be with the 150’s or 140’s… Sometimes, I catch myself day dreaming about the 130’s and once even with the 120’s… I don’t want to hurt you. I hope we can have fun for as long as it lasts – keep things casual. Still, I need you to know that when we part that will be the end of our relationship. Although, I am happy to introduce you to a couple of tall gals I know that have been daydreaming about you!

TTYL!

Renee

Wordless Wednesday

Six Months

So… it’s been almost 6 months since beginning my weight loss journey… SIX MONTHS! I weigh in next week (which is technically a week shy of the six month mark) and I waffle (mmmmm syrup, how I miss thee!) between being proud of myself to thinking, “is this really all I have to show for everything I’ve done?”. I sometimes have unrealistic expectations and sometimes I look in the mirror and only see how much farther I have to go. Then there’s the knowledge that other people have lost more weight in shorter amounts of time that discourages me. BUT then I remember that I’m not other people. It’s about the journey - not just the destination. So, I’m trying to look at some of the accomplishments of my journey so far. Feel free to read along if you’re so inclined.

I’ve lost at least 33 pounds. I say at least because it’s been several weeks since my last “official” weigh in and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost more than that. I’m hoping I’ve hit my 40 pound loss mark by next week. How sweet would it be to be able to see 170 and finally weigh less than my husband for the first time ever? Better than chocolate sweet people, better than chocolate sweet!

Speaking of my husband… he found my hip bone when cuddling before bed and thought it was the remote. That was a huge high for me. Even though it was a bit bittersweet that my husband has never before felt my hipbone (I mean really, I was THAT big?) it was completely wonderful that he kept pushing on it – amazed by it’s being there. Kind of like other bones I have found on myself – like wrist bones and cheekbones and jaw bones and tail bones (ouch on the tail bone find though!).

Also new is the fact that there are noticeable differences in pictures from before. John told me last night when we were looking at some pictures “You know, when this was taken, I just saw you standing in front of me. But when I see this picture now I don’t see you anymore. You don’t look like this at all!” He looks at me, looks at a picture, shakes his head and looks back at me with this great big beaming look of pride. I cannot express how much that helps. Especially when sometimes I look at them and am just disgusted by how big I had gotten and how I hadn’t seen how big I was or how unhappy I was even when I smiled. Even looking at my sweaty photos I can see a difference, not just in my face but in my happiness. The first picture clearly says “Why am I doing this – I am miserable” and the last one is clearly pleased about being a hot sweaty mess.

In fact, I don’t mind being a hot sweaty mess – which is definitely something new. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I have lost my embarrassment chip somewhere along the way. For example: Squats, squat jumps, squat lifts, walking lunges, jumping rope, pull ups, sit ups, reverse sit ups, sit ups done on balance balls, sit ups done with balance balls, every single machine that has a rope or pulley, the elliptical, the treadmill, the stair master, the spin bike and various other things that cause me to grunt and sweat like a pig with exertion in front of the entire gym… have ceased to embarrass me. Don’t get me wrong I still know that I look like an awkward hot mess while doing these things – I know this because of the lovely wall o’ mirrors that encircle the gym that let me see myself from every angle and because I’m not blind to the truth. The point is that I don’t care how I look while doing it – (aside from caring that my form is correct so I don’t injure myself) I do it without first stopping to think what the skinny girl or trainer Matt is thinking as they watch me jiggle away. I’m like Nike now, I just do it!

Another positive takeaway - I’m pretty sure I’m healthier now than I was before – but that’s something I will have to report back on later since next week I’m having my first physical since starting this whole thing. Which brings me to another first – I’m excited to get a physical because I know the doctor probably won’t yell at me for being fat. Granted, I’m still technically fat – but I’m closer to 19% less fat. Seriously, I’ve lost 19% of what I started at! I’m almost halfway to my goal of 40%.

And going through and writing this helps. It reminds me that it’s a journey and that I have made forward progress on it. Yes, I still have a looooong way to go, but I know that I can get there. I have a pretty awesome support system to make sure that if I stumble, I have hands to help me get back up. Plus, since I’m a little lighter, it’s probably easier for them to help me back up now anyway. ;)

Babies… I’m surrounded by Babies!!!

None of them are mine… and that makes me sad sometimes. Sometimes it makes me more than sad. Sometimes I have to fight against being bitter and wallowing in the fact that more than anything else I want a baby (of my own or store bought, whichever) to raise and love. For those of you not in the know, John and I have been trying for almost 3 years now with no success. We’ve come to the decision that it’ll happen in God’s time and we are trying to be patient. Sometimes I think being patient would be so much easier for me if I weren’t surrounded by kids – that I wouldn’t miss what I don’t have if I didn’t see it all the time.

The thing is – it really feels like this is where God wants me to be – surrounded by babies. I mean, a year ago He put us into a shepherd group where every single couple in it had at least 1 toddler and was pregnant or became pregnant. Other couples that came after us also had multiple little blessings of their own. John and I were the only couple to not have children and it was HARD at first. To be so surrounded by what you want most in the world… oh, the bitterness began to swell at first.

But God is great in all His wisdom. Because these parents we were surrounded by were all so… like us. They got our humor and our pain. They supported us and listened to us as we opened up to them. We forged friendships based on real life and we bonded with them even as we got to watch and listen and learn from their struggles and triumphs. We also got to fall in love with their children along the way.

Each of those bundles of energy and joy and sass have staked out a special place in my heart. When one of the babies giggles or smiles at me – I feel such joy. When I get to rock one of the boys and cuddle and coo at them – I feel such comfort. When one of the girls sees me and runs to hug me, or asks me to pick her up or whispers a giggled secret in my ear – I am overcome with emotion. When two of the little girls randomly told me that they loved me – I went home and cried.

The love of a child is a gift. It is precious. It is wonderful. Does it matter if that child isn’t yours and never will be? No! I might never have children of my own. But God has given me children to love and to love me in return. For love of those precious babies, I wanted to help get the Children’s Ministry at our new church home ready for them. I also wanted to do something to be a part of their Sundays – and still have time to do other things I had committed to.

That is why I volunteered to help before and after each of the services. There’s only one problem… it’s not enough! When I’m with the kids and their little faces light up seeing me there and they want me to stay and check on them or walk them to the clubhouse or stay with them and sing – I don’t want to tell them I can’t. I love being with the kids and watching them learn and grow. I love being able to make them smile and help them solve little disputes. I love being around their joy and excitement. I feel like they love having me there too... not just the little ones who know me, but other children there seem to just come to me – like they know there is a space in my heart that is empty and waiting.

Still, I feel conflicted between “feeding” myself at the adult bible study I go to during second service and “serving” the children (and myself) by staying and helping in the Children’s Ministry. I’ve been praying about it because I almost feel like I’m being selfish wanting to stay with the kids… but then I think – “Why would God give me a heart for children, no children of my own and then NOT want me to be with the children He made sure to place into my life?” In my heart I know that there is nowhere I would rather be than with the kids, even when it stings because I’m reminded of what I want and don’t have. But before I really commit to doing anything on a more permanent basis for the Children’s Ministry I want to make sure it’s where I’m really supposed to be.

I talked to John and he supports me whatever I decide to do. I just have to decide… and we all know how horrible I am at that!

Weight Loss Journey

So, someone suggested that I blog about my weight loss, and other people have started asking me questions from how it started, to what I do and if I feel different now - so I figured I'd just write it all out. For those of you that asked, here it is - this long windedness will catch anyone up on the last 4 months of my weight loss journey.

Ready? Here we go!

John and I joined a gym in March of this year because I’d reached THAT point – you know the one I’m talking about right? The one where you know something has to give and you decide you’re ready to “try again.” I knew that while I was feeling motivated right then that it wouldn’t last. Let’s face it I’ve been there before – and I always reach a point where I just give up on myself, where I can’t motivate myself and I fall back into my familiar old routine and my fun habit of self loathing. I also knew deep down that I couldn’t let John (or my mom, or a friend) be the person holding me accountable this time. Having other people work out with you is great… but counting on someone else to keep you going just doesn’t work when they either don’t need it like you do, or they end up giving up too.

So this time when we joined and they offered up that free consultation with the personal trainer, I figured, why not? I learned that I was 210 pounds which on a barely 5 foot frame is NOT good. I admit, that number was hard to see and the most I had ever weighed. I thought to myself, “how did I end up here? It’s too much…” Then the kicker. We did my BMI and I found out that almost HALF of me was made of Fat. After several minutes of me stuttering “half of me, half of me? Half of me!” I was then subjected to a round of physical exercise placement tests. This is when I got to see just how pathetically poor I was physically as he tried to get me to do the simplest exercises. No joke, I couldn’t even stand on one foot without waving my arms like I was trying to fly. When we were through I wanted to cry and eat a gallon of ice cream – perhaps not even in that order.

Instead I took a shaky breath and decided to listen instead of laugh at him when he told me how much a personal trainer would cost. I came to the conclusion that I should be willing to put what amounts to a year of car payments into learning how to get my body to run the way it was designed to run. I mean, it’s the only one I’ll ever get. Seriously, if I can look at my Honda and say “It’s worth that much” I should be able to look at myself and say the same thing. In fact, I found it a little disturbing to realize I had such low self esteem that I automatically thought a car that was designed to really only last me 10 years was worth more than I was in my own mind.

That mentality is hard to change, but my weigh in last month helped a lot. (I only weigh in once a month so that I don’t get focused on a number instead of paying attention to my body and how it’s feeling and changing.) In 3 months I lost 25 pounds and 14 inches over all – weighing in at 184.6. I have never felt like an investment in myself has been SO worth it as I did when I stepped off that scale and the last measurement had been taken. I reached a goal, I did it. I have around 55 pounds left to go and I know now that I can do that too.*

Some people have asked what my routine is – and the best answer is that it varies. I work out with Trainer Matt 3 days a week now but those first 3 months it was only 2 days a week. When I work out with him, I do 10-15 minutes on the elliptical/bike as a warm up. Then we do all kinds of things depending on the day. We do walking lunges a lot, and step ups and squats and dead lifts and straight pulls and all kinds of things that make me roll my eyes and pray for my time to be up. There’s lots of resistance work that we do too– which is killer to me, although I will admit I have noticed that I’m much stronger now and that my balance is way better too because of it. Matt’s newest thing has been Agility Training – which when I complained about how horrible I was he said

“When you started, I couldn’t have even tried to get you to do this because you
weren’t physically capable of it. But LOOK AT YOU NOW– You can and
are doing it. Give it time, you’ll get better at this too.”

Hearing that, made me want to cry because, well, I'm me and I cry at everything. But after that moment passed, something else happened. It reminded me that when I really dig in and try, I can do it.

Which is why I try to be active every day - including my off days from Matt. Granted, when Matt’s not there I do whatever I feel like doing. Sometimes I get on the elliptical and do 45 minutes while I watch an episode of Buffy on DVD. Sometimes I’ll do 30 minutes on the Wii Fit. Sometimes I count shopping as an exercise. (Trying on clothes is strenuous activity, okay?) I replaced my chair at work with an exercise ball and I roll around to music all day. On the weekend, John and I will go hiking on a trail or for a long walk or even go to the gym together. Whatever the case I try to do something every day – even if it’s just a little bit. It’s been incredible how making this kind of change has made such a huge impact on my life – from what I do to how I feel. It's even improved my (already awesome) relationship with my husband because we do more together – I get up earlier, I have more energy, I’m happier… it makes a BIG difference.

I thought the exercise was going to be the “big” change but I think a bigger change for me has been using MFD (myfooddiary.com). It really has been incredible. I’d done 'Deal a Meal' and all kinds of dieting - from just not eating certain meals to cutting out certain things to cutting out everything "bad" but nothing worked for long if at all. I'd hit a wall or go off on a binge and be right back where I started - heavier than before (physically and emotionally because of my failure).

Before MFD I never knew that when you exercise you have to eat more or your body will think it’s starving itself and lower your metabolism… effectively causing you to FAIL. I thought Diet and Exercise went hand in hand… but it doesn’t entirely. The more you do of one, the LESS you do of the other. More exercise – Less Diet – Less Exercise – More Diet. So when I work out with Matt and burn 500 calories – I don’t only eat 1200 calories, I eat 1700 calories for the day and am still on target to lose 1.5 pounds a week. (Which is deemed the “safest” amount you should lose). Now, if I don’t do anything at all that day cuz I am feeling super lazy – I only get 1200 calories which is sometimes a good thing because I’m still having a hard time spending my calories well.

You see, if you don’t spend your calories wisely on MFD you are made fully aware of it. Since MFD holds you accountable to a balanced diet if you go over/under in anything (fat, carbs, sugar, protein, iron, calories) you get an angry red frowney face. Now, if you do a good job, you get a green smiley face, which is more rewarding than it sounds, I promise. Either way, it keeps me accountable for each day and really TEACHES me about nutrition and what fuels my body versus what just fuels my hungry inner glutton child. And that child is a glutton - she likes to eat and sometimes she wins out.

Which brings me to my favorite part about MFD – after you click that your daily entry is complete it says “If every day were like today” and tells you how much you would weigh in one month, in three months and when you would reach your goal. Now, it can be motivational if you had a super great day or cautionary if you had a really bad one – but either way it focuses you because it’s about ONE Day – not yesterday and what you did wrong… just about you and what you did today – so that tomorrow can be fresh and new too. I find that really helps me focus on letting mistakes and bad days go, of allowing me to forgive myself for any missteps and not let it be a stumbling block or the excuse I need to tell myself I can’t change or I can’t do it so why try.

You see, it’s battling myself and the lies I’ve believed all my life that has been the biggest challenge so far. Don’t get me wrong – exercise, diet… important keys to getting healthy… but the biggest fight is seperating the truth from the lies. I've come to realize that 90% of weight loss is mental. You have to believe you can do it. Once you get that… everything else is still REALLY FREAKING HARD... but it’s also possible. And if I can do it – ANYONE can do it.

So... who's with me?

*NOTE: Now before anyone starts screaming that 55 pounds more is too much to lose let me say this. I might get down lower and decide that 130 pounds is not the right weight for me – I’m open to re-evaluating when I get closer to it... I just want to feel good and be healthy - whatever weight that ends up being is fine with me. It’s about how I feel, not the final number on the scale. So no worried e-mails please.

Waiter/Server

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the people who met your needs in an airplane were called Stewardesses. Men of course didn’t want to be known as Male Stewardesses and the term Steward was not bandied about often. The march of time brought feminism and equality to the forefront of many of our minds. Perhaps that is why we now must call everyone a Flight Attendant when asking for our bag of *free* peanuts…

Along these same lines the people who brought you food in a restaurant used to be called Waiters or Waitresses. They were the fine members of the team called a “wait staff”. The dictionary definition(s) for Waiter is –

1. A person, who waits on tables, as in a restaurant.
2. A tray for carrying dishes, a tea service, etc.
3. A person who waits or awaits

Now, (at least in this area) calling someone a waiter is somehow considered demeaning. I have been rebuked on several occasions by asking for the Waiter and told in no uncertain terms that it is actually the Server I am looking for. The dictionary definition(s) for Server is –

1. A person who serves.
2. Something that serves or is used in serving.
3. A broad fork, spoon or spatula for dishing out and serving individual portions of food.
4. An attendant on the priest at Mass, who arranges the altar, makes responses, etc.
5. (in sports) the player who puts the ball in play.
6. A computer that makes services, as access to data files, programs, available to workstations on a network.

I admit I am unfamiliar with the exact reasons for changing the job title from Waiter to Server. The most plausible reason I can imagine is simply to eliminate the description of the gender of the party doing the work. Perhaps it is so that everyone will feel fairly treated – same job, same title… I really don’t know. What I do know is that the words Waiter/Server imply two very different actions to me.

Waiting seems like such an idle thing - a passive action. We often wait for things to happen – the day to begin, the workday to end, the weather to change. Usually it seems like we have no control over waiting, especially if we are waiting for something to happen so that we can then move ahead. Looking at it that way – I can understand not wanting that to be my job description. “What do I do all day? Well, I wait!” What do you have to show at the end of your waiting day if what you waited for didn’t happen?

Conversely, when we serve it seems like we are actively doing something. We could be self-serving - it is often necessary to fulfill our own needs. But – we can also be selflessly serving by filling another’s need. Whoever we serve, we are giving and working and accomplishing a task! That sounds like a fulfilling and rewarding job, doesn’t it? I served someone today. I did something in the service of someone other than myself.

Looking at it this way, it almost seems like they really are two totally different jobs. But are they? When you serve someone else you still have to wait. You have wait for them to make a decision. You have to wait for them to tell you what they want. You might even have to wait for circumstances to come together to help fulfill their need. There is still waiting involved in serving.

But when you wait do you always serve? What about when you wait for something that isn’t for someone else but for you? How do you serve then? Who do you serve then?

I struggle with this so much. It is so easy for me to focus on what it is I am waiting for to the exclusion of everything else. Like a horse with blinders on all I can see is my desire in the distance. I don’t think about the struggles of those around me who have needs of their own – needs I could be serving while I wait for my own to be met. I don’t even think about how I could serve the One I’m waiting for.

Following are the lyrics to a song called “While I’m Waiting” by John Waller that expresses so well how I long to be:

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I am hopeful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it is painful

But patiently, I will wait

I will move ahead, bold and confident

Taking every step in obedience

While I'm waiting

I will serve You

While I'm waiting

I will worship

While I'm waiting

I will not faint

I'll be running the race

Even while I wait

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I am peaceful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it's not easy

But faithfully, I will wait

Yes, I will wait

I will serve You while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting

I will serve You while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting

I will serve you while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting on You, Lord

Due to the behavior of your dog.

My mom used to work for the Town of Herndon. She was sort of the head girl in charge of the office. One of her duties included dealing with complaints and sending out correspondence to residents who were in violation of the Town Rules. One day a woman called in complaining about her neighbor’s dog. The animal was doing it’s business all over her yard and the owner didn’t even bother to clean it up. She was very irate and went on and on about the situation. My mother’s co-worker drafted a letter to the dog’s owner that said something along the lines of “You need to clean up your dog’s s—t from your neighbor’s yard or we will fine you.” Everybody had a good chuckle but obviously a letter from a Town Official could not go out like that. My mother typed another letter that instead began “Due to the behavior of your dog…”

That phrase has been part of our family lexicon for a very long time. Any time we want to say something mean but can’t we say instead we need to write a “Due to the behavior of your dog” letter. While my mother originated this and is talented at turning a phrase, I was gifted with the ability to take my anger and rage and turn it into the most genial and gracious form of writing. I have been using this very marketable skill in my line of work for years – to the point where superiors have had me write “Due to the behavior of your dog” letters for them. In fact I have what some people call a talent for being able to inform someone in writing that they are thoughtless and rude and have made a grievous error all the while making it sound as if I am paying them a compliment or am simply asking them for clarification in the nicest way imaginable.

In other words – I am passive aggressive. I can sugarcoat hostility like nobody’s business. The problem isn’t just that I am passive aggressive – it’s that I’m good at it. And when I put words to paper I find that I am even more skilled at twisting it so that it is far less recognizable than it would be if I had said it out loud. In fact, sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it – or if I do see it, I apply more nobler motives than I deserve. I can hide behind that all day long, but it doesn't make me feel any better about it.

I do believe I have a talent for writing and that it was a gift given to me by God (as I've learned are all gifts). The problem is it has been pretty well utilized by Satan my entire adult life. So - how do I use my gift for good instead of evil? Suggestions?

Hate

I tend not to make New Year's Resolutions. Just because it's a new year proclaiming to the world that I plan to change something about myself or what I do does not mean it is going to make it work. In fact, most gym memberships purchased in January fall into disuse come April - just saying.

Now, that doesn't mean that the New Year isn't a time of reflection on the past and changes shouldn't be made. In fact, I think it's a great idea to really put thought into your life and make changes whenever you are moved to - be it January 1st or October 31st - matters not.

Which brings me to the subject of this posting... Hate.

I use the word hate a lot. In fact, I use it far more than I should and as a sort of gross generalization. For example: I hate people. Yes, that phrase has left my mouth countless times. It is usually preceded by a situation where someone has been less than nice or has treated me as if I am slow or hard of hearing without bothering to realize I am a human being with feelings.

Then there is the more descriptive phrase: I hate stupid people. This one is usually preceded by a situation where someone asked me a pointless or redundant question or simply did something in a way that goes against how I thought it should have been done. (My way frequently being called the "right" way and their way being called the "wrong" way.)

Of course those are just the warm up phrases using hate... then we have - I hate the alarm clock, I hate this show, I hate this city, I hate this traffic, I hate this rain, I hate these new gas pumps that take forever, I hate my job, I hate this book, I hate - I hate - I hate...

Now, the question is am I really that full of HATE? An even better question... Do I want to be?

The answer is no. I don't want to be an "angerball" or a "hatemonger". Granted I know I am far from sunshine and rainbows shooting from my fingertips but that doesn't mean I have to spew venom everywhere I go. I am not saying I will never say HATE again... But I will try to watch how often the word comes out of my mouth. I don't resolve to do this... I try to do this - with a little prayer and a lot of hope that I will be worked on so that as the time passes, it won't be April and I'll be back to my hatin' ways...

What about you? Anyone out there have something they feel moved to change about their person?

Selfish Phase

So... hanging from the wall in my cubicle is a poem I wrote during one of the lowest points of my life after a really difficult breakup.

Selfish Phase

I'm doing things I want to do.
I'm learning things I thought I knew.
I'm having fun - without you.
It's a selfish phase.

I eat vanilla ice cream in bed.
Gaining 10 lbs. doesn't fill me with dread.
If I wanted to I could shave my head.
It's a selfish phase.

I curse like a sailor when I stub my toes.
I watch really crappy t.v. shows.
I threw out all my pantyhose.
It's a selfish phase.

I'm going where I want to go.
I'm growing how I want to grow.
I never tell myself no.
It's a selfish phase.

I flirt with all the men I meet.
When I'm in bed I get the sheets.
I haven't shaved my legs in weeks.
It's a selfish phase.

I can watch sappy movies and cry.
I never have to give reasons why.
I don't care about the size of my thighs.
It's a selfish phase.

I'm living life just for me.
I'm wild and young and so carefree.
I'm being who I need to be.
Must be that selfish phase.

And yes, I still have it up in my line of sight even after all these years. And yes, I am now happily married and have been for almost 5 years. It might seem a strange reminder to keep, but I have it because it reminds me of why my relationships before my husband didn't work. I had never been myself. I always bent to please someone else - changed who I was to make others happy. I swallowed my feelings and conformed to what I thought the other person wanted at the expense of what I wanted... really, at the expense of what I needed.

So when everything in my life fell apart - I finally realized that no one was going to love who I was unless I figured out who that was and let her be seen. I started down a road I had never been on before. What did I want? What did I need? What did I deserve? Where did I want to go and who did I want to be? What did I love about me and what did I want to change?

Now, while I know I need to be pruned... I also know that I was made who I am for a reason. God is sovereign in ALL things, including my personality. I am a loud person and I like to laugh and have a good time but I can't be "on" all the time. Sometimes I hurt and have doubts and am afraid and need comfort. I am not meek or subservient but I like to help people in need however I can. I have opinions and if I really believe in something I will fight for it but I don't like confrontation and avoid it like the plague. I am emotional and loving but I can be possessive and insecure.

I am a work in progress and I hope that is true of me all my life. I am truly blessed to have a husband who loves me for who I really am and not just a version of me. It is wonderful to know who you are - flaws and all, and be okay with it because you know someone else loves you unconditionally.

I know not everyone can be blessed with a husband as wonderful as mine... but everyone can be blessed with a Father who will love them through everything - their trials and tribulations as well as their joy and celebration. God's unconditional love is more than just a blessing... it really is everything and it is there for anyone who needs it. How amazing is that?