what you need to know

It's after 9:00pm on a Sunday night. My nose is red from the overuse of tissues, and my body is winding down - the DayQuil having departed from me hours ago. Both dogs are falling asleep on either side of the couch - taking up what little room I had reserved for folded and clean clothes.

It's after 9:00pm on a Sunday night, and my mind is racing with thoughts on the upcoming week. Do I have everything I need for work? Am I going to squeeze the gym in after work, or will I force myself out of bed before 5:00am and then stumble into the gym in the morning? What does this next week look like for me as far as the hours I am working?

It's after 9:00pm on a Sunday night. But it's not just any Sunday night. It's Easter Sunday. And yet I don't feel like I've spent any real time truly meditating on the fact that it is Easter Sunday. Instead I've rushed around, blown my nose, gulped down DayQuil, and sprawled out on the couch.

This past week has been one of the better ones. Busy as anything but successful. I've counted calories every day since last Friday. I'm down at least 1.5 pounds. And I made it to the gym four times. All while fighting through some sort of cold or virus.

And yet I feel like none of it really matters. And none of it does - at least not on Easter Sunday.

There are so many times I think of something profound - when I know God is giving me words that are much too smart for me to have thought of. There are so many times when I feel convicted - when I know God is leading me towards something (or somewhere). But I let those times pass away so easily. I miss out on those moments because I tell myself it can wait.

It can't wait. That's something I have been reminded of today. None of it can wait. The only time there is is now. And those moments of profoundness and conviction pass if you don't grab hold of them right as they pass by.

This weekend I've thought a lot about time. How I spend my time. Not just how I spend it but also how my mind spends it. Because sometimes I am physically present and emotionally absent.

This weekend I've also thought a lot about control and what would happen if I just let go a little bit. Would the world end? I know the answer is no, but I'm so wrapped up in the idea of knowing exactly what is going to happen and when it is going to happen that I feel like the world would end if I were to let go of control.

And then I am reminded that it is Easter Sunday, and I'm hit with the thoughts of how this life is not about me and how broken I am to have spent so much of the day consumed with my own life instead of focusing on the reason I celebrate Easter.

I clearly have nothing figured out. And I am okay with that - as okay with it as I can be at least. But I am working towards holding onto those moments of profoundness and conviction. I am working towards letting go of control (still). I am working on my life pointing towards Him and away from myself.

(title from "on fire" by switchfoot)

looking for the reason why

Several weeks ago, I received an email from Lydia Hirt offering me an advanced copy of the book Shades of Hope. The book is written by Tennie McCarty, who runs a treatment center for addiction in Texas and specializes in food addiction in its various forms. I almost turned down the offer - thinking the book wouldn't be of any use to me, but a little voice inside my head told me to accept the offer and crack open the pages of the book once it arrived. Maybe it would resonate with me, and then again maybe it wouldn't.

I am so glad I listened to the little voice. I've had the book for almost a month now, and while I haven't finished it yet, I am growing more and more as I read the words.

My life has been all over the place, and the free time I've had has been spent doing things like shopping and game nights with friends. But my mind often wanders to the book and all the lines I have highlighted.

There are so many things that make this weight loss journey difficult. Some of those things right now include my busyness. But most of those things are the choices I am making - choices that are not beneficial to my losing 100 pounds. Because even if I am busy, there is still time for me to make good choices. There is still time for a quick work out. I just don't make the choice to squeeze in a work out or the choice to eat a salad instead of a hamburger.

The question then becomes why. Why, when I know what I should do, do I choose to do the things I shouldn't do? Why, when I have come so far already, do I find it difficult to move forward and allow myself to slide backwards? I hope to one day, preferably soon, have the answers to those questions.

I don't want to fail. I don't want to go weeks without seeing the inside of a gym or weeks without drinking at least 64 ounces of water a day. I don't want to let all my hard work, and the work of those who have taught me, inspired me, and believed in me, to go to waste. I want to stand on the scale and see a 100 pounds lost and know that I am the winner of my own life.

Shades of Hope speaks to some of this. When I read the pages, I find pieces of myself in the book and am reminded of the fact that even though I feel alone in this weight loss journey I am not. There are many people who have gone before me and mastered so many of the same questions and struggles as I am trying to master right now. There will also be people who come after me and need to be reminded that they also are not alone.

There's a quote near the beginning of the book that says "The one thing I do see - from the woman looking to lose forty pounds to the man who needs to lose four hundred - is that our addiction is not defined by how much or little we eat, but rather by how we feel about ourselves."

I underlined those words, and went back to them just now. Because I feel like I've lost - like I can't do this.

I know I shouldn't feel that way, and while the feeling has diminished some, it is still there. Sunday morning found me feeling heavy, ugly, and frustrated with myself. I wanted to simply stay in bed and hide from the world, but I got up instead, showered, fixed my hair, put on make-up and walked out of the door still feeling heavy, ugly, and frustrated with myself.

Our church started a new series on Sunday based on the book Real Marriage by Mark Driscoll. At the end of the service, we had the opportunity to stand in line and take pictures in a photo booth - married couples, dating couples, singles and families. While we each took a copy of the photos, the church would also get a copy and hang them up in the prayer room so that during the series they could pray for all of us.

I grabbed a few accessories for both my husband and I, after making him stand in line, and we ducked into the photo booth and went about taking four pictures. Minutes later, we held them in hand, and he turned to me and said "See? I told you that you looked beautiful."

When I looked at the pictures, I felt beautiful too. Not quite where I want to be but beautiful still. The girl I saw in the pictures wasn't the girl I had seen in the mirror earlier that day.

And suddenly those words from Shades of Hope resonated even more. Because I realized that busyness has not been the reason at all that I've made poor choices. It's been what I placed blame on as I took my eyes off of myself and stopped feeling that I was strong and capable as I had weeks before.

I always say that I am in a season of life. And usually when I say this, I say it as a way of prefacing something. It's a way to explain why I did this and not that. But being in a season of life is not a reason to do or not do. It's not an excuse to hold onto when I make the wrong choices. Being in a season of life is simply part of life, and I need to welcome it with open arms instead of considering how to get out of it.

I'm really not sure where I go from where or what I'll do next. I just know that I have to feel positively about myself. I know that, as our church unpacks marriage, I need to turn to my husband more and let him in even more because he is there to help me. And honestly, as independent as I am, I can't (nor do I want to) do this - any of this - without his support. Because he is my biggest supporter and cheerleader and accountability partner.

What I do know is that I am excited. I am excited for this season and the opportunities it is providing. I am excited for the lessons I am learning - lessons I hope to be able write down and somehow share. I'm excited for the future and for the constant reminders of how lucky I am to be living this life God has blessed me with.

And I'm excited to look in the mirror and start seeing the girl from the photo booth.

(title from "blinding light" by switchfoot)

there's a meaning to it all

Two weeks ago, I dressed in grey pants and a white cardigan. I merged onto I-235N and then made my way to Tulsa, OK for a day of training. The sky was a dark grey when I left Oklahoma City, and the sun broke through the darkened clouds as I drove the Turner Turnpike. And thus started a new season of my life with a new job.

I thought it would be easy. The transition from one full-time job to a new full-time job. But it hasn't been. I knew not to expect the job to be easy. And it hasn't been. It's been challenging and different and exciting and overwhelming and any other words that mean the opposite of easy.

But the transition? That was something I expected to be easy. After two years of a nearly forty minute commute, I thought I would find it easy to wake up just a bit earlier and head to the gym before going into the office. But I haven't done that once in two weeks. After several months of watching what I ate at lunch (on most days), I expected to continue to eat healthy. But I haven't eaten healthy in two weeks.

It's no one's fault but mine. I've wanted the transition to happen as quickly as possible, but it's taking time. I spent the first week soaking everything in and then the second week running after the job and responsibilities. I'm hoping to make my third week a mixture of soaking everything in and also pushing myself to take on responsibilities.

Starting the third week, I'm frustrated with myself and how I've let so much slide. It's been two weeks of transition and also two weeks without stepping foot in the gym. It's also been two weeks of drinking soda instead of water, of eating hamburgers instead of chicken, and of ordering at the drive-through more than anyone else.

I'm busy now. But I'm not so busy that I can't take care of myself. And I'm exhausted all of the time. But I'm exhausted because I haven't take the best care of myself. I recognize this and claim it as truth - knowing that as I enter the third week of my new life I will need to do so with the understanding that now is the time for me to put myself first and not cast off my needs for the sake of ease.

There are some things I've fallen into more easily than others. Some things that have been a much needed and welcome change like spending the time to straighten my hair and put on make-up in the morning. Other things include selecting my outfits for comfort and fashion. The combination of it all provides me with the opportunity to seek out beauty and care for myself in a way I haven't for over a year.

A part of me wonders if I should put the time and effort into straightening my hair and lining my eyes with shadow and eyeliner. But there is also a part of me that feels so much more like myself now that I'm taking the time to care about how I look as well as the time to present myself in the best way possible.

[from left to right: grey pants, white and black striped shirt, and white cardigan (JC Penney) & blue bead necklace (vintage from my grandmother) - Monday 2/20; black cardigan and grey lace shirt (Kohl's), jeggings (Lane Bryant), coral jewelry (Kohl's) and Fossil watch - Monday 2/27; grey cardigan and jean trousers (Lane Bryant), tan and nave striped shirt (JC Penney), and grey beaded bracelets (Target)]

Our Community Group (the women at least) recently started a Beth Moore study on the book of Esther, and the words have done a wonder on my soul. There's a constant reminder that it's fine to spend time on yourself so long as beauty does not become what you idolize.

At one point in time, I did idolize it. There are times now I think when I idolize it. Times when the most important thing is how I look. Times when I worry about every little thing. And also times when I feel as far from beautiful as possible.

I'm doing my best to hold onto the feeling of beauty. I'm doing my best to use how I feel to my advantage and then serving others because of the strength I find in beauty. It may make absolutely no sense to anyone else, but for me, I recognize the importance of taking the extra time to style my hair and  dust blush on my cheek bones.

There's still such a long ways to go. More pounds to lose. Hair to grow out longer. Outfits to plan. Days to live and work. People to meet and touch. Sometimes it is overwhelming and terrifying to think of how much farther I have to go and just how many more changes there will be in the future. But life is meant to be lived - not hidden from. And giving into that fear would make me hide from life instead of live it out in the best way I know.

I am going into my third week of work with the understanding of how difficult the transition is but also with the understanding of how worthwhile the difficulty is and will continue to be.

(title from "vice verses" by switchfoot)

keeping my hopes unbroken

After cupcakes and conversation with friends Tuesday night, I came home and stretched out on the couch. I placed an ice pack on each knee, alternating between icing the top of my knee and behind my knee, and didn't move for over an hour. It was after 10pm when I finally got off the couch, dressed and slipped into bed.

I do my best to sleep in the clothes I plan to wear while working out. It helps motivate me to get out of bed when the dreaded alarm blasts, and it generally cuts down on the amount of time I spend getting ready. So I did just that last night. Grey shorts and a bright orange tee-shirt from my time in China.

The alarm went off this morning, and I hit the snooze button three times. I knew I wanted to complete a 30-minute circuit training workout. I planned to shower and change at the gym (and hopefully grab breakfast there because I think they serve bagels and coffee in the morning for members!). Once I finally pulled myself out of bed, there were two dogs to let out, a bedroom floor to sweep, and lunch to make.

I moved a little slower than I should have, but I got it all done. And I got my gym bag packed. Then I remembered that my heart rate monitor strap was hanging in the bathroom drying. So I grabbed it along with all the goodies I would need for a shower at the gym. I was late but still determined to make it to the gym.

And it was at that time that I realized I had left the actual heart rate monitor at my office following yesterday's second work out (I accidentally threw my monitor into the laundry basket along with my dirty clothes. It was later recovered my my fearless roommate while I was at work.)

Frustrated. Late. Discouraged. Tired. Angry. Those emotions quickly raced through my mind as I tossed things out of my gym bag and purse in hopes of being surprised by the monitor. There was no surprise, and it was too late to make the 15 minute drive tot he gym, squeeze in a 30 minute work out, shower, and drive the 40 minutes to my office.

So today is a day of changing plans. Of taking a deep breath and moving workouts around. Of not letting a little hiccup throw me off for the whole day.

There was a time (ahem - only a week or two ago) that something like this would have kept me from even making it to the gym. Because I would have been lazy. I would have been too set on having my lunch break be an actual lunch break at least once during the week. I would have grabbed onto any reason not to make it to the gym.

But now, though annoyed, I can look past the early morning and lack of work out and instead focus on what I will do for the rest of the day. And I can also be thankful for my two gym memberships that allow me to work out near home in the morning, evenings, and weekends or during the work day.

Having missed the morning workout makes me wonder about taking some mornings off. Like this morning. I could have gone back to sleep. I wanted to go back to sleep. And judging by the yawns and cuddles on the couch, I think my dogs also wanted me to go back to sleep. But I stayed awake instead. As tired as I was, I knew I needed to remain in the habit of being up and alert. So even if I do decide to take a morning off from exercise (which I think my knees and abs were secretly grateful for), it seems important for me to get out of bed and at least do something like sit on the couch. Because then my body is awake even if it is not moving.

Having missed the morning workout also reminds me that I need to sometimes change my plans on what kind of work outs I will do. Today I was scheduled for a 30-minute circuit workout and then an hour of water aerobics. But instead, there will be 45 minutes of swimming, sans heart rate monitor, and then cardio with lower body weights alongside a friend. I'm excited for working out with a friend - even though I am a bit scared of pushing myself harder to keep up (which will be a good thing in the end).

Not having the heart rate monitor for the swimming portion of my work out saddens me. I'm excited to track every single calorie burned and to see myself inching closer and closer to burning the number of calories I am supposed to this week (3750) and also spending the allotted time in each zone. I'm really not sure how I went about exercising without this thing. But at least I know I will not allow the lack of the heart rate monitor to be an excuse to not work out.

I also had the opportunity to step on the scale. After slowly gaining a few pounds over the past several weeks, I am now back down to the 25 pounds lost mark. And I'm feeling better. I'm also eating better. I needed a break from counting every calorie and watching everything I ate. And while on that break, I made good choices but still ate more of some things than I should have (like french fries and blizzards/milkshakes from DQ [which we don't have in OK so they were eaten while on vacation in TX and were both smalls!]). Now I want healthier things versus unhealthy things. Now I choose no sugar added ice cream and sugar free bread because I want it not because I have to have it. I'm also starting to make a mean turkey sandwich (today's sandwich can be seen to the left) rather than depending on Subway to make the sandwich for me.

It's the little things in life, and it's what you do with the frustrations of life.

Part of abandoning the all-or-nothing mentality is allowing yourself room for setbacks. We are bound to have lapses on the road to health and wellness, but it is critical that we learn how to handle small failures positively so that we can minimize their long-term destructive effects. One setback is one setback—it is not the end of the world, nor is it the end of your journey toward a better you. Jillian Michaels

(title from "your love is a song" by switchfoot)