a common fear

I had a moment last week. It happened after a morning meeting. Loaded with papers to hand out to co-workers regarding the United Way Drive, I felt content. And joy. And I realized that the things that frustrate me are things I can change.

I started to write about it. I started to document my desire to find joy in the moments of my current life. But then a few things happened, and I stopped. I didn't stop because I no longer wants to find joy. I stopped because all of a sudden I was being pulled in several different directions. There were endless possibilities, and I felt that I would be a liar and a fraud to write about contentment with where I was in life is I was also considering other possibilities.

And so I took a much needed break. Instead of looking at everything as a possible post, I spent time being quiet. Instead of wondering about every Bible verse I saw on twitter or received in my Inbox (and thinking it applied directly to whatever circumstance I wanted it to), I spent time praying over the verses and time re-reading our nightly devotionals. Instead of fitting the words into my life, I allowed the words to speak to the places they needed to speak to.

It sounds a little silly and strange. But it was what I needed.

I also took a much needed break from counting every single calorie. And I took a much needed break of rushing to the gym at lunch and also after work. I changed my priorities from being solely about me and placed them back on other people.

I'm finding a balance. It's a balance of putting myself first but of also not forgetting to serve others. It's a balance of finding joy in my life but also seeking out other avenues. It's a balance of being content but not becoming comfortable. It's a balance of praying for specific things but also listening to hear what God's plan is.

I've always been aware that He has a plan. But being a planner myself, I often think my plan is His plan. Sometimes it might be. Other times it might not be. And while I have said (to myself and to others), that I trust Him and will follow His plan... I really think to myself "but I know what His plan is, so things will happen this way..."

There has not been a time when I have not been aware of this trait. I've always known that I take things and spin them into what I want them to be. I judge the situation and overthink everything until I am convinced that I know how things will go. When things don't go the way I planned, I crumble and wonder why.

And the reason? I think it is to break me, in a beautiful way, so that I let go of my desires when they don't line up with His.

This goes along with every aspect of my life. Friendships, marriage, even weight loss. Every aspect of my life is a reflection of Him, and so, as difficult as it is, I have to let go of every aspect of my life and allow Him to determine it's course.

On top of letting go of control, I've also realized that the story that is my life, while full in many ways, could be even better.

Several months ago, I read A Million Miles In A Thousand Years by Donald Miller for the second time. The first time I read the book I devoured the words. The second time I took my time and ran a highlighter through the words that spoke most to my heart. And I was determined to live a better story.

I think I did - for a time. But then I got tired. And life got hard. And I forgot that struggle is what makes a good story. Until yesterday, when I was reminded of the words and of the fact that I have the chance to make my life what I want it to be.

I needed that reminder. I probably need a reminder like that once a month (or maybe once a week).

I don't know what my story looks like. I don't know where to spend my time. I don't know what to give my heart to or where God wants me to use my talents. Sometimes I wonder what my talents are as well as what my gifts are. But I do know that my story is to be more than what I've made it out to be.

I also know that by living a better life I will feel more joy and maybe more contentment. And by living a better story, I will let go of my plans and my judgements - allowing God to be the one in control of it all.

Here's the truth about telling stories with you life. It's going to sound like a great idea, and you are going to get excited about it, and then when it comes time to do the work, you're not going to want to do it. It's like writing a books, and it's like that with life. People love to have lived a great story, but few people like the work it takes to make it happen. But joy costs pain. - A Million Miles In A Thousand Years by Donald Miller

(title from "in your hands" by bebo norman)

everything and no less

Several months ago, my mother-in-law handed me the book So Long Insecurity: You've Been a Bad Friend To Us by Beth Moore. She said the book struck her and that many of the words impacted her. Having been a reader of Beth Moore's for years, I was excited to get my hands on the book and dive into the words.

At first, I read quickly. Nodding my head when appropriate and marking pages. But then life got busy, and I stepped back from the book. (I say it was because life got busy but really I think it's because the book dealt with many of my own "heart issues" and I needed a break from it.)

I recently picked the book back up and started reading right where I left off. I haven't finished it yet, but I am getting there.

I'm soaking in the words. I'm allowing them to speak truth to me. I'm healing from the pain my own insecurities have caused me. I'm reminding myself that I have no reason to be insecure.

My mother-in-law was also the one to introduce me to Working It Out by Abby Rike. I think my mother-in-law has intuition when it comes to knowing what I need to read and when. I also think know that it is no coincidence that I'm reading both of these books at the same time.

Even though Working It Out is meant to be inspiring, I also find it daunting. In so many ways, it makes me feel insecure about my own life and my own journey. Because if Abby Rike can lose the weight and move (somewhat) forward with her life after losing her husband and two children all at once, why am I struggling? It's the same thing with shows about weight loss and renovations to homes for deserving families. The story also revolves around people who are doing amazing things despite the odds stacked against them.

I am always inspired by these stories. But I am also always left feeling like I am lacking in so many ways. Like my life doesn't come anywhere close to measuring up. Like I have no reason to be frustrated or upset or tired. Like I need to get over all these small struggles because so many people are facing so much more.

And while it's good for me to recognize that I can do more with my life, it's not good for that recognition to turn into comparisons that lead to feeling insecure.

In So Long Insecurity: You've Been a Bad Friend to Us, Beth Moore shares a story about a girl who initially lied about her testimony because she felt like her real testimony was lacking in some way. Comparing herself to others, she decided that as her life had had no "real" adversity that she needed to create "adversity." So she created a story about how she lives the life of a stripper (I believe) before being saved and changing everything about herself. Eventually, she told the truth. But before she told the truth, she made that decision to lie. All because she felt like she was lacking.

It's something I so sensitive to right now. It's a struggle I have. I can compare myself to everyone around me, but at the end of the day, comparisons mean nothing at all because my life is completely different - and for a reason - from someone else's life.

I try to be careful about what I share here. I limit talk of dieting and even on the exact exercises I complete. Because I'm afraid I might be judged for doing too little. Or of not trying hard enough. But also because I am afraid someone else might judge themselves in comparison to me. And that is the very last thing I want for anyone.

Being alive is hard enough. And I think, in many ways, being female makes it even more difficult (though I realize men have their own struggles to contend with). But to add into that moving from one phase of your life and into a newer and healthier phase? It's almost impossible.

But it isn't fully impossible. If you do the work. If you continue to move forward. If you never give up. Then it can happen.

But for all of that to happen, there needs to be no more comparison. This is where I am today. I'm listening to other's stories. I'm finding pieces of myself in their story. I'm seeing that if they can do it then so can I. And that is as far as I am letting it go. I stop myself before I have a chance to think about how they are so much better (smarter/thinner/healthier/more committed/etc.) than I am. I stop myself before I think about how I have nothing further to bring that someone else hasn't already brought. I do not allow myself to think that it's not worth sharing my story because it is nowhere near as inspiration as someone else's.

What would have happened if someone else had thought? What if people had allowed the comparisons to stop them from every moving forward? I can't say for sure, but I think the world would be a much dimmer place.

I know it's easier to compare yourself to others. I can so easily point out the positives in someone else, but turning around and looking at myself makes me feel like such a phony - like all I am doing is trying to make myself feel better. And while I think there are some people who make too much of themselves, I know that's not what I am doing in the situation. What I am doing is convincing myself that I too can be healthy, that I too can run on the treadmill with an incline, that I too can continuously increase the amount of weight I lift.

My story might not be as inspiring as someone else's. I might not be rising from the same amount of ashes as someone else. I might not have as many obstacles to overcome. But my story is just that - my story. Just like your story is your story.

And every story deserves to be told without comparison.

(title from "take it all" by adele)

i am never broken

9:00pm comes, and for the first time all day, I am ready to write. I've rested on the couch and had dinner. We have laughed over a sitcom streaming on Netflix and also watched an episode of Design Star. The house is cooling down, after my leaving the broiler on for too long. The glass from the broken wine glass is picked up.

Instead of opening my MacBook and typing, I force myself off the couch and then climb into bed with my husband and two dogs. It is a night of almost seven hours of sleep. In the past, seven hours of sleep would be nowhere near enough, but now, with leaving for the gym at 5am most work days, I cherish any sleep over six hours.

So often, in the midst of a busy day at work or while navigating my car through traffic, ideas come to me. Realizations. Questions. Thoughts on life, on love, on faith, on journeying through all the ups and downs that accompany any and every little thing.

And then, when there is time to write, the ideas dissipate. Or the need and desire for sleep wins out.

This time of my life, this journey, is about so much. One of those things is deciding what matters in my life. It's about putting certain things and people first. It's about disentangling myself from the things that hold me back. It's about forgiving myself and others for past mistakes so that I can move on - never again to be captured by those emotions of anger, anxiety, and uncertainty.

And the things that matter include exercise, cooking, laundry, writing, reading. And the people that matter include my husband, our families, our friends, and our two dogs (because they are more people than pets).

Deciding what matters in my life is just one piece of this neverending puzzle. The other piece that I am struggling with currently is finding and making and keeping time for all the important things and people.

It's so easy for me to put myself last. To make everything into an excuse for why I can't do something like eat better or spend at least two hours at the gym every day. For so long, I did everything I could to stay where I was. To continue to hide in whatever fashion I could. To put everything else first and remind myself that eventually there would be time.

But there is never enough time unless you make the time. Life is so full with jobs, marriages, friends, and all that goes into living the life of a 26-year-old professional. It's all to easy to stay in a coccoon of life. To never move past this stage and into the next. To never become that butterfly.

I had to come to grips with the fact that my cocoon was not the safe place. The cocoon was the suffocating place, the place where my vicious cycle continued and I asked, Why is there no light? Why am I stuck here? without actually finding an answer. The cocoon was tight and uncomfortable, not safe and inviting--a trap, not a haven. And the more I wrapped myself in layersand layers of protective coating, the harder it was to emerge from that false sense of security. It was not until later that I realized a cocoon is not a sweet escape from life. It is the absence of life. --Abby Rike, Working It Out

I haven't spent my entire life in a cocoon. There have been moments of beauty and brilliance. Moments when I was so close to understanding who I was. Moments when I felt like I officially beat every demon and had cleaned out every skeleton in my closet.

And then something would happen. I would retreat back into the cocoon. I would pull myself in and wrap myself in something - anything - to hide. Sometimes it was extra weight. Other times an unnatural looking tan. Sometimes losing too much weight.

I had my mother send me pictures from these moments. And I have every intention of going through them all and understanding who I was in that moment and why I was that way. I have every hope of sharing those understandings here and moving on. Because it is time to leave the cocoon permanently. There will be no going back this time.

9:00pm comes, and for the first time all day, I am ready to write. I've rested on the couch and had dinner. We have laughed over a sitcom streaming on Netflix and also watched an episode of Design Star. The house is cooling down, after my leaving the broiler on for too long. The glass from the broken wine glass is picked up.
Exercising is part of leaving the cocoon. Eating healthy is as well. Opening myself up is another part. And I am doing all three of these things all at once. Even on the days when I feel like doing nothing of the sort. Also on days when I feel like I have already blown it and wonder why I should even keep trying.

But that's the thing. Those days will happen. Always. It's my choice to make on how they impact me. And this time, for the first time, I choose to not allow those days to keep me from moving forward. I refuse to let anything stop me.

(title from "hands" by jewel)

stars in your eyes

After a week and weekend filled with delicious, but not so healthy food, I expected to step on the scale today for my weekly weigh-in and see one of two things: 1. No weight loss or weight gain or 2. The first weight gain of my journey.

Instead, I saw a loss. Over a pound loss to be exact. Bringing my total weight loss to 17.8 pounds.

After seeing the loss, I started to notice other things. Definition in my calves. Definition in my biceps. A smaller stomach. Stomach muscles instead of just flab.

It's a start. A step in the right direction. Something I needed after a week of feeling so far from my goal and a week of crying because of every little thing.

There is still such a long ways to go, but in mere weeks, I will be a fifth of the way there.

The further I head into this journey the more I learn about myself and about my body. I'm learning to not go to the gym and sleep in on the mornings when it hurts to open my eyes and my feet feel like bricks. I'm learning to push myself and increase weights when I feel like a work-out is too easy instead of just gliding through another morning of weight lifting.

I mentioned yesterday that I wished I could afford a physical trainer. That I wanted someone to push me - someone other than friends and family. I brought this up last night when we met with friends from church for our weekly community group.

And someone made a statement that stuck with me then - a statement that I am still processing in my mind. The statement was something along the lines of looking at how far I have come on my own.

When I stepped on the scale earlier today, the statement came back to me. When I noticed the definition in my arms and my soon-to-be toned stomach, I realized the truth behind the statement.

There's a part of me that wants to do this all on my own without the assistance of a trainer pushing me harder and harder. There's also a part of me that is terrified of doing all of this on my own.
Really it doesn't matter whether I do this on my own or with the help of a trainer. I'm going to achieve the results I want either way. I'm not going to fall victim to hitting a plateau or of giving up when things get difficult.

It's a choice. Every day, I wake up and make the choice to go to the gym or to sleep longer. Every day, I make the choice to eat what I brought for lunch or run our for a healthy (or not healthy) lunch. Every day, I make the choice to spend my lunch hour in the pool. Every day, I make the choice to eat a large bowl of ice cream or a single serving of dessert.

And I document all these choices on my blog, on twitter, and on facebook. I document the choices to remind myself that every choice really means something, and I document the choices to keep myself accountable with friends and family.

There's a part of me that hates sharing every up and down. It's the part that worries too much over how the words come out. The part that feels my emotions are too varying to share - the part that wonders if people won't get sick of seeing me happy one day and then struggling the next.

But there's a bigger part that loves putting my progress onto a blog. It's the part that smiles when I'm told I inspire someone. It's the part that remembers how loving people and how happy people are to see those they know succeed. It's the part that realizes that this blog and journey is so much bigger than me or the 100 pounds I'm striving to lose.

Because my story is just part of a much larger story. It is but a snippet of a life. There is so much more to my story and to the story of the world. But I still have the chance to write my story down and to hit "publish" so that my story is available to the rest of the world.

And I hope you realize that your story is also part of a much larger story. And that you also have the chance to share you story - that you should share your story.

And I hope you also realize that it's not about how many people read. I fall into the trap of checking the statistics to see how many views my blog has received. And I measure my success in the number. But then, there's that one comment that stands out to me. A comment that states I inspired someone, and I remember that my little story needs to only reach one person to really matter.

(title from "don't forget me" by way out west)