feet back on the ground

picture found here.

Yesterday morning, I climbed into the backseat with my husband. My mother-in-law drove, and my father-in-law sat in the front seat. I had planned on taking the new car, but it is less roomy, so we settled on them driving and us riding.

Having just finished Something Blue the night before, I had a pile of four books with me (selected from this larger pile). After reading back covers and flipping through pages, I chose The First Husband. And during the two hour drive I finished over 60 pages.

We spent the better half of the afternoon with extended family. The time included all the good things that come from traveling to see family. Laughter. And stories. Conversation. Food lovingly prepared by hands that are just glad to have us there. And more laughter.

I knew the day wouldn't be the best for eating. I knew that. But still, when I finally sat down last night and calculated (to the best of my ability) what all I consumed both at lunch with family and then at dinner with friends, I felt like a failure.

I had almost doubled the amount of calories meant for the day. Without any resemblance of exercise - unless you count sitting in the backseat and reading a book while your husband naps exercise.

It was the day after my announcement, my pledge to lose one-hundred pounds. My decision to share with the world that I was going to do this, that I was ready.

I felt like such a failure. The thoughts of not eating at all today crept into my mind. So did thoughts of taking a long walk. Something. Anything.

But when I woke this morning, I felt like I needed to stay home. Spend time in bed. Sleep in for just a little. Finish my book. So I did.

And when I read the last page of the book I had just started the day before, I remembered that this journey is not about a quick arrival. It is not about how well I can do it. It is not about leaning on my own devices or trusting the things I think should work.

The journey is about continuing to move forward. It is standing back up when I fall down. It is about not giving up. It is about admitting my mistakes and then learning from those mistakes (instead of admitting them and then making them again and again). It is about letting go of all of the control and praying for direction.

This journey is about so much more than one hundred pounds.

Finishing the book today sparked a lot in me. More love for writing. A desire to tell my story and to always have a story to tell. The realization that whenever I stumble, God will provide something or someone to remind me that I am still moving forward and that not all hope is lost.

It happened last night in the form of a text message. I was just leaving a friends house and climbing back into my car. I checked my phone and saw the text message. It was exactly what I needed at that moment. A reminder from a friend that I could do this. That now was the time. And that there were people who would be there to help.

Because I don't know what I am doing. At all. Not with my writing and not with losing weight. All of this is new to me. I've done it all before, yes, but this time is so different. So God is providing me with people who do know what they are doing, people who will guide me and cheer me on.

This story is a part of something bigger. It is something God is bringing me to because of His story and how this part of my life with affect His bigger story. As scary as it is, it is also exciting.

So I start anew today. I won't hide from the amount I ate yesterday. I won't beat myself up for the choices I made. I won't keep myself too busy today. Instead, I will breathe and I will start over again. I will remember that this is the time, and I will continue on (and probably start book number three of the weekend).

(title from "breakin' at the cracks" by colbie caillat)