weight loss wednesday (week 3)

Today’s Weight: 225

Total Loss: 40 pounds (I gained 0.5 pounds over the last week.)

celebrating 4 years of marriage friday night

What I craved this week: Nothing. And that wasn't a good thing - obviously. I craved nothing because I ate whatever I wanted and called it a "celebration" because we did lots of celebrating this weekend.

There was pizza on Thursday night, fancy dinner on Friday night & ice cream, Mediterranean food on Saturday night, Steak N Shake and homemade cupcakes on Sunday... And then I went to the State Fair on Monday with a group of teens and elementary school age kids.

What I noticed was different about my body: My butt. It's (finally!) getting smaller and firmer. Now I just need to make sure that most of the rest of me starts doing the same thing.

Workouts planned for this week: I'm scheduled to work out with my trainer tonight (Wednesday) and also Saturday morning. I need to figure out when else to fit in work outs. The more I work out the better I eat. The better I eat the more energy I have. And the more energy I have the more weight I lose. Everything is tied together, and it is really time for me to start getting it together once again.

Personal Goal(s) for this week: Make good decisions with what I choose to put in my body. I can enjoy things in moderation but moderation is key (and what I struggle with the most). I mean who really only wants a half-cup of ice cream? I personally want several cups - which is why I am stuck at 40 pounds lost.

Favorite Quote(s) for this week:

inspecting the backyard and surveying the back porch.

What I'm looking forward to: The next chapter. We finally closed on our old house this past Monday. It's so surreal to be done with that chapter and moving onto a new house. Our new house is now fully framed (the picture to the right is just of the bottom floor framing - I don't have one of both floors framed [bad blogger]), and it's scheduled to be done in under 60 days. Once the house is built and we close, the real fun (and frustration I'm sure) begins. There will be lots of weekend projects, lots of estate sales, lots of planning and changing.

I'm so looking forward to the next chapter. To making things for the house. To strengthening friendships and inviting people over for dinner and games, to hosting watch parties, to building a home and a family in our brand new, blank slate house. To starting over and fresh while staying right where I am.

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)

everything will fit right in

A little under three weeks ago, I drafted a letter and handed it to my then supervisor. Friday was my last day at that position. My last day to drive the 40 minute commute. My last day to search for parking. My last day to be a part of the university staff.

I've considered my next move for quite some time. The past year has been spent wondering over what I want to do. Should I go back to school and get a masters? Should I stop working full-time and go to law school? Do I need to pursue a new career altogether? Do I stay where I am?

My answers to every question have differed on a weekly (and usually a daily) basis. But I never had the opportunity to change - until three weeks ago when God opened a huge door for me, and I stepped through.

There are plenty of reasons, I'm sure, for why other positions didn't happen. I don't understand all of the reasons, and I may never fully understand them. But I know that I am where I am right now because I didn't take any of the other opportunities I prayed would become possibilities and then reality.

Had I not been in my current position last April, I doubt I would have lost nearly 40 pounds. So many of the people who played an integral role in my weight loss journey thus far were people I never would have met without a membership to the university gym.

There were strangers who became friends, instructors who inspired and challenged me, and instructors who became friends. Friendly faces that smiled when I walked through the gym doors and people who recognized me, who commented on my success thus far, and who reminded me every time I saw them that I could do it. Not only that - they reminded me that I was doing it and doing it the right way.

I'm scared to be on my own now. The past three weeks have been filled with change, with stress, with excitement, and with the knowledge that I no longer have a normal life. But those three weeks are now gone, and it is time for me to step into the new normal - a normal that currently exists without those strangers, friends, and instructors.

I know they still believe in me and that they still support me. Our relationships grew outside the bounds of just work out class or just the gym. But I won't see them every day or week. They won't be able to push me with an obstacle course in boot camp or remind me of just how far I have come or marvel at the inches lost. I'm going to have to be one to push myself, to remind myself and to marvel.

I don't think I could have done that two months ago. I'm terrified that I won't be able to do it now. Instead of giving into any of the fear, though, I need to use the fear as a reason to do even better.

There are some thing I'll have the chance to do now that I didn't have the chance to do before. Like eating breakfast at home. Like starting the morning off with a work out. Like taking the time I spent driving to work and using it to care for myself. So that's what I am going to do - no more excuses.

The first time I stepped foot into the gym early I did so with a partner. There won't be anyone waiting for me in the mornings, but I'm going to pretend there is - just to put a little spark into me when I roll out of bed and ready myself for a morning work out followed by a day of work.

It's going to take time to continue to find my new normal. And there is some nervousness associated with the starting of a new position. But I know, without any doubt or hesitation, that I am right where I am supposed to be.

I took the weekend off from my part-time job and allowed myself time to relax and rest. I spent time on the couch with my husband and finally caught up on my DVR. I went to the gym and sweated through a 45 minute work out. I walked around the grocery store with my husband and selected several easy to make meals for dinners and also filled the grocery cart with frozen dinners. I ate too much Chinese food and drank more Diet Dr. Pepper than water. I spent Sunday morning at church, allowing myself to be filled up and reminded that God is walking alongside me with everything - new jobs, weight loss, my marriage. Church also reminded me that He has always been beside me - even during the times when I felt far from Him and wondered why things just weren't working out.

I don't have all the answers. But I know that this time is a time of blessing. It is a time given to me by Him. I can't take any credit for it; I can only point back to Him.

(title from "i'm through" by ingrid michaelson)

it's always worth the sacrifice

Boot Camp started on Monday, and I arrived at the gym at exactly 11:58am - right on time. I got my name tag and joined the other 100 participants - a combination of students and employees. People of all ages. People of all sizes. People of all fitness levels.

The first day was to be a fitness tests. Push ups, crunches/sit-ups, squats, and a mile. There was talk from so many people about how they weren't fast or they weren't strong. And I said to them, reminding both them and myself, that it didn't matter how fast they went or how slow. As long as they were moving, they were passing everyone on the couch.

Many of the people were more fit than they said they were. The people who complained about how slow they would complete the mile ended up finishing much faster than they expected. Most people were faster than I was.

And that's okay. Because I never stopped. And where I was Monday was so much father than I was in April.

I finished a mile in 16 minutes and 22 seconds - walking most of it and doing some interval running. I wasn't the first to finish, but I also wasn't the last. I discovered, too, that I could run more of it if I put my mind to it, and next time I will do just that.

I can do squats. Quite a few of them actually. I know the proper form. In April, I was terrified of hurting myself and refused to do squats. Now I welcome the challenge.

I can do push-ups on my knees. I know they aren't a "full" push-up, but it's still a big deal for me. I made excuses about how I have bad knees in the past, that I couldn't do push-ups, but the truth is that I can.

I could do a full sit-up if I chose to, and I can do more proper crunches now than ever before.

Slowly but surely I am becoming an athlete.

Boot Camp runs until the end of March, but I'll only participate in it through the middle of February as I'm taking on a new position at a new company. Once I am done with boot camp, I plan on taking everything I learn there and applying it to my future work outs.

My life is changing so much, and it's terrifying. It's also incredibly exciting, and I feel so unbelievably blessed to have so many opportunities - within work, within my marriage, and within my healthy living initiative.

10 months ago I never would have expected any of these changes. 10 months ago I would have thoughts all this change was impossible. 10 months ago I wondered if it was even worth the effort. And now here I am.

I want you to know that it is possible - every last bit of it - for me and for you. You just have to stop making excuses and get off the couch. And remember that you are only competing against yourself.

It will take time, but we will all make it to where we want to be.

(title from "play on" by carrie underwood)

to ride upon my heart

Minutes ago, it started raining, and now, I sit on the couch listening to nothing but the sound of water splattering on the grass, the sidewalk, and pinging off the chimney. It's not the first time it has rained in the past few weeks, but it is the first time in months that I have been able to enjoy the rain from the comfort of my own home.

This weekend has been about relaxing. About spending time with my husband, with friends, and with my in-laws. It's been less about watching what I eat and more about enjoying food and laughter and conversation. It's been exactly what I needed. What my husband and I both needed.

It's easy to get caught up in life. To think only of the goals I have set for myself and lose sight of other things. But as important as health is and as much as I am striving towards my goal, I also want to enjoy my friends and food and the simple pleasures of life that can so easily become lost.

I'm learning to let go. Still. I don't think I will ever stop learning how to let go.

I've said here before that I like to be in control. I hold on tightly to things I think are best. I grip onto those things I count as important and refuse to let go even when my knuckles turn as white as a crisp Hanes' tee-shirt. And I've said here before that I am working on it. That I feel like I am getting to a point where I can let go.

Maybe I have almost gotten to that point, but then, inevitably, something happens and all of a sudden I am at least half a mile away from that point where I thought I might be able to let go.

At church today, we sang a song about surrender. So often I sing the songs regardless of how much I believe the words. But this morning, I couldn't. Because I knew that it was a lie - that I didn't surrender everything. So instead of singing the words as displayed on the screen, I sang and asked for help to surrender all.

I'm not there yet. Maybe closer than I was this morning but not yet all the way there. So I can't provide any guidance on how to let go and allow your knuckles to turn from white to pink. But I can tell you that right now I am doing everything I can to lean into where we are.

There has been a lot of change recently. Change in eating habits. Change in income and jobs. Change in my relationships. And change in other things. As much as I often crave change, I don't do so well when the change comes in unexpected ways or happens at times that I see as less than ideal.

But I am learning from it. I think. I hope.

What am I learning? That change is going to happen. That it is okay to be wary of change but that it's not okay to lose sight of everything else when change happens. That it is okay to take care of myself but that it's not okay to do so sense at the expense of others. And that a lot of times the change is for the best even if it doesn't seem like it right away.

The other day, I read a blog post about someone whose house sold. Right after she prayed and let go of control. My first thought should have ben excitement for her, but it wasn't. My first thought was why can't God move that quickly in my life? I didn't give much more time to the thought until this morning when my husband and I climbed into the car after church. I turned to him and told him I felt like I was at home.

For the past few months, I've felt anything but at home. I've questioned my faith. I've questioned my goals for life and the places (and people) I feel called to serve. We've wondered where we fit in. There's been fights and tears and many, many unanswered questions. There have been emails sent to friends asking for prayers and prayers prayed to God. And so much of the response has been silence.

And then today, in an almost silent voice and with a tiny breath of air breathed into me, I felt at home. My husband felt it too.

And I felt compared to share it here. Even though it terrifies me. Because I worry that as soon as I recognize this time of blessing that it will disappear. And God's response to me has been and if it does? 


Maybe He wants me to learn to be content in all situations. Or maybe He wants to show me that He knows what He is doing and that He has a better handle than I ever could. Or maybe He simply wants to remind me of every promise He has made me and show me that they will come true - in His time.

So I am here. Writing this. Listening to the sound of the rain and relishing in the fact that there is no work for me tomorrow. Looking forward to further blessings. Remembering that this is a time to both enjoy and to press into. And knowing that I will be back to doing my best to continue on the path of weight loss come Tuesday.

But for now, I am going to enjoy friends, food, family, and His blessings.


(Also, in case you missed it, I wrote a short story and won a contest. The story is called Homecoming. I hope you enjoy it.)

(title from "you are for me" by kari jobe)

the smallest thing can make all the difference

picture found here.

 It's amazing just how much can change in one year. It's also amazing just how much does not change in a year.

A year ago, I was confused. And unsettled. Frustrated. Holding onto hope when I felt like there was nothing left to hold onto. God was working on my heart. He was showing me the similarities I shared with an old house. He was whispering to me that in the brokenness He would provide healing. He was reminding me that He would remain in control.

It's been a bumpy road since then. There have been ups and downs. There have been questions of what am I doing. There have been hours spent searching for something else and hoping that God would pluck us out of any sort of despair and place us on an easier path.

And He has. Though not in the way I expected. But when is God's way really ever the way we expect? I think the answer is never, but I feel that if I say that He will do something just to prove to me that I can not expect Him to act one specific way.

Just about a year ago, in the midst of struggling with our house and wondering when things were going to turn around, I started a very slow journey. I started to think about what I wanted from life. I started to think about what God wanted from my life. And I knew that we both wanted me to be the best possible version of myself.

I'm still working towards that goal. But I am so much closer to it today than I was a year ago. And I am more determined. I've thrown out the excuses and have chosen to embrace a new way of life even when it is hard. I have decided that I am worth it, and I have started to chronicle my goals. And I don't intend to let anything get in my way this time.

My insecurities loomed at that time. I struggled to fight them off and to remember that they were just insecurities and not truth. But I fought with my words and thoughts instead of with my whole self. And so they won.

Just a year later, I spend at least an hour a day in the pool or at the gym. I look all of those years of insecurities in the eye, and I fight back. With weights. With the stationary bicycle. With deep water aerobics and aqua zumba.

When I struggled with those insecurities, I was reminded of them everywhere I turned. Not just in my life. But in other's lives. Even through it all, I was reminded that God was faithful. That He would provide in His own way - a way I (again) never would have or could have expected.

A year ago, God spoke to me through my aching muscles. He reminded me that pain will bring change. I listened for a moment, and then let all of those insecurities and excuses creep back in.

This year, instead of Him speaking to me, He placed people into my life. These people will not let me stop. These people, just by existing in my life, hold me accountable because I know I have to hold myself accountable. I know I need to celebrate my successes and let go of my shortcomings. I need to remember that this is a journey. Not just my relationship with God. And not just my journey towards health. But all of it.

All of this to say, again, that in a year everything has changed, and in a year nothing has changed. But I guess that's often the way it goes.

I can't wait to see what has (or has not changed) in another year.

(title from "change" by carrie underwood)

learning to be brave

picture found here.

I slept until seven this morning and then took my time getting ready. Instead of rushing out the door and then making a thirty minute commute to work, I enjoyed the house, took out the recycling, and then made my way from the house to McDonald's for an iced coffee and proceeded to drive five minutes to a day long conference.

Over the past week, I've attended two workplace conferences. Last week it was a two hour lunch conference, and this week, it was a day long event. Both spoke on balancing life with work and home. They also talked about communication and about contentment.

I enjoy these kind of events. There's something about bettering yourself that excites me. Even when I am familiar with the information. Maybe it's the break from my normal job duties. Or maybe sometimes I just need a reminder of how to navigate this thing called life.

And even though these events are tailored more for the work place, I walk away with more knowledge on my personal life. I leave with a feeling of wanting to change things. Something settles into the pit of my stomach and remains in place until I give it the time it deserves.

Today there was much talk about communication. We discussed how to listen and how to respond. We talked about taking time outs from arguments. But the topic that stuck out to me the most was that life is a series of choices. Sometimes we decide on those choices and sometimes we slide.

At 25 (26 in under three weeks), I've made many decisions. For example, I decided to get married. But I also feel like I have slid into some choices.

Over the past few months, I've struggled and wrestled with what I want out of my life. I've been frustrated with where I am and where I am not. I have wondered when things would change. I've prayed for this or that to happen. I've cried quite a few tears as well. But for most of the past few months, I didn't truly made the decision to do anything about it.

And then last week happened.

It coincided with the first conference. The one that lasted for just two hours. Nothing specific was said. There was not one moment of extreme clarity for me. But it reminded me that I can (and should) do better than I had been in the past.

And making those decisions? It's hard. My knees pop and crack during zumba. I feel ridiculous walking into the gym. I wonder if this is even worth it. But those decisions? They also inspire me. I feel stronger than I have in months. Even though so much of the situation is the same, I feel I am better prepared to handle it.

So right now I am deciding. Deciding to write. Deciding to believe positive feedback. Deciding to disregard the negative comments in my head. Deciding to determine what I want out of life. Deciding to go after my dreams.

What decisions are you making?

(title from "crystal ball" by pink)

it's come to this

picture found here.

The day started with a doctor's appointment. A follow-up to the day, three weeks ago, when I had a pint of blood drawn and then tested for a lengthy list of conditions that can cause an enlarged liver. Things like hepatitis and Wilson's disease.

I was slightly nervous having googled enlarged liver and headache the day before, but I also had a sense of peace. It had been three weeks. The doctor had not called in a panic asking me to come in early.

And there was nothing. Every test came back negative. No viruses. No diseases. No genetic conditions. There was a sigh of relief, and then we talked about diet and about exercise.

My liver enzymes are slightly elevated. They are just a few points over what is considered normal, so my doctor is not too alarmed. He wants to monitor it with a visit and blood work every six months. But as far as he is concerned, it is something I can change and fix. It is all in my hands now.

I've struggled with my weight for years. I try for a little while, and then I always stop trying. I spent some time taking diet pills. Other time forcing myself to not eat (or to purge what I did eat). I wanted to be skinny, but I never wanted to do all the hard work. It seemed easy for everyone else, and I wanted it to be easy for me.

There is a part of me even still that wants an easy solution. But I know the easy solution is not something I can come by. I know that this getting healthy and working towards a better me is going to take a lot of hard work.

I've said I was ready before. And I was for a moment in time. But I easily lifted my hands and gave up and stopped trying. I don't want to be that person. I want to continue to move towards my goal. I want to work towards something, achieve it, and then continue to work towards something else.

I want the number on the scale to decrease. I also want my pants and shirts to become too large resulting in a need to go shopping for new clothes. But more than that, I want to be healthy. Because weight and size of clothing is not only dependent on diet and exercise. It has to do with genetics and build type. But health? That is all me.

This is new territory for me. I know some about healthy eating thanks to a nutrition class I took in college. Still, knowledge and application are two entirely different things. I can spout off the knowledge, yes, but when I go to apply the knowledge to my everyday life, it's a bit tricker.

Portion... what is that? And this doesn't really have that many calories, right? It's only a diet coke.

Then there is snacks and the elusive fullness. I make decent choices for lunch, but by the middle of the afternoon, my stomach is empty and grumbling and I find myself eating something that completely undoes all the good lunch did.

And exercise? I want to exercise. It sounds good in theory. There have been more mornings than I can count that started with the intention of working out, and there was a period of several months where I successfully made it to the gym at least three days a week.

But something always happens. I get tired. Or sick. Or just need "a break." (It could just be plain laziness, too.) I no longer feel inspired. Or I feel like it's just not working, that there is no progress being made, and I feel like there will be no future progress.

It's all excuses. And they need to stop now.

So I am putting it all out on the line. I'm saying I need to change, and I am going to hold myself accountable. I don't know exactly how this will all work out, and I am not sure what my plan is going to be. But I am going to do something about this.

It's funny really. Everything is changing. I am being pushed out of my comfort zone and into the unknown. With my writing. With my health. With every aspect of my life. And I know it's for a reason. God is definitely up to something.

(title from "what if you" by joshua radin)

in times like these

picture found here.

I planned to stop at McDonald's this morning. An iced, vanilla coffee started to call my name as soon as I left the house. My stomach upset, and the hint of a headache (which has lingered for almost three days now) sneaking up on me.

The plan stuck with me as I navigated I-35, and I pulled off onto the exit and then into the parking lot. The line was wrapped around McDonald's. I grunted and then pulled into a parking spot.

And then I paused. I was already running late. And my eyes were not drooping.

Instead of turning off the car, I shifted into reverse and then left the parking lot. No coffee in hand.

Every now and then, I think God uses His sense of humor to speak to me in situations like this. I see it as His way of reminding to let go of my expectations, to let go of my desire for these worldly things. Coffee is fine, yes, but it's better when made at home (or replaced by a homemade chai tea latter). Picking up an iced coffee from McDonald's is all right in moderation, but when money is tight and I am praying for a way for it to be not so tight, I need to let go of the comforts I think I deserve all the time.

I go back and forth on this. I want the comforts of this life. Even though I know they are just comforts and not necessities. And sometimes my want of the comforts of the life take over, and I lose sight of the important things.

Because I do want to enjoy the simple things in life. And I do want to live a more simplistic lifestyle. I hope that my everyday story will reflect His story. Only I want all of this on my own terms, and that just isn't the way it works.

My husband and I sponsor a child in Haiti through Compassion International. It's a pledge we made early on in our marriage. Letters from our child hang on the refrigerator, and I write him through email or by putting pen to paper. A week ago, I considered discontinuing our sponsorship of him.

It would be an extra $32 in our bank account. And is this something we can really afford? Thinking back now I realize how selfish and ridiculous it would have been to end the sponsorship. Maybe if things were really tight. In the sense of there was no income entering our bank account. But right now when I want extra breathing room to make the purchases I deem important?

Thank goodness it is not an easy point and click process to end a sponsorship. Thank goodness that just days later we received a letter from the child we sponsored. And thank goodness I have a husband who would have told me I was wrong and then re-sponsored the child had I successfully ended the sponsorship.

I have this lie circulating in my head that I shouldn't have to suffer. That things should just come easily. It's a lie I battle every day as I remind myself that suffering will only make us stronger. It's a lie I battle every day as I tell myself that God has a plan and that He will use all of this for my good and His glory. And it is a lie I (try to) combat by reminding myself that God loves me enough to not just give me all the things I want. He wants me to learn how to work for things, and He wants me to understand what struggle is so that I can later on show compassion to others who struggle.

I've also bought into the lie that comfort is important. Of the utmost importance. It's a lie I think we as a country as we as a generation buy into. We want the most up to date technology. We look for the easiest way to cook, to shop, to do everything.

And comfort is not the most important thing. Vacations are important, yes. Rest is necessary. We do all deserve a break at some point, yes. But this idea that comfort will take care of everything is nothing but a lie. It sets us all up for failure and frustration when we are unable to achieve the amount of comfort we feel like we should.

For me, it has to do with vacations. I want a chance to go to the beach, to sip drinks on the beach and sleep in as late as I want. I want to jump on a plane and fly to Michigan or California at the drop of a hat. It also has to do with things. I want a new computer. I want a different couch for my living room. I want things that I already have, but I would prefer to have the better kind of thing.

So God used a long line at McDonald's to remind me that I do not need of any of these things. He used the $2 I didn't spend on an iced vanilla coffee to remind me that I need a shift in my perspective.

The question now is what do I do. First, I continue to get out of my own way. I also continue to stop making excuses. And I remind myself every morning what is important (and what is not). And then I leave the rest up to Him. Because I'm not in control of anything.

Has God ever given you a change of perspective?

(title from "hands" by jewel)

time makes you bolder

 

Can I be honest? For just a moment. Will you listen?

I've talked so much about change. About bettering myself. And about moving on. But in so many ways, it has just been talk.

Because this change? It is so much harder than anything I have ever done.

I have the desire to change. It rises up in me and takes hold of my every thought. It spreads itself into every aspect of my life and begs me to move from my old way to a new way. There are reminders everywhere that it is time to let go of the thoughts and the worries and the question. Freedom beckons me and promises to bring me new life.

And yet, I remain frozen. Sometimes it feels like my feet are in a bucket of quickly drying cement. Other times it is as though my hands are bound behind my back and there is a rope loosely tied around my ankles. And occassionally, it is me holding myself back. My hands and feet are free, but I am too afraid to take that first step.

I don't know why, though.

 

But maybe the why doesn't matter. I have spent hours (probably more like days) wondering why, arguing with myself (and with others), and praying to understand why. Some insight has been shed, but even more questions linger.

I can't wait around to understand why. I have to make a choice. Do I remain stuck? Or do I move forward, casting aside my questions and my fears?

I want to move forward. I think know I need to move forward. Even though it is terrifying.

The next question then is how. And the answer is: I don't know.

Over the past few months, I've grown. I've opened myself up to people. I've allowed myself to cry and to weep and to ask for help. I've started writing again. I've prayed - a lot. I've done so many things. But I still have a long way to go.

Another questions is, what do I do? I think this might answer the question of how because it will provide me with specific steps to take.

 

A few weeks ago, while on the phone with my mother, I talked about a quote. It goes a little something like this: "If writing a book is impossible, write a chapter. If writing a chapter is impossible, write a page. If writing a page is impossible, write a paragraph. If writing a paragraph is impossible, write a sentence. If writing even a sentence is impossible, write a word and teach yourself everything there is to know about that word and then write another, connected word and see where their connection leads." -Richard Rhodes.

I took it to apply only to writing. To the fact that I need to write at least one page a day and then maybe write more.

But my mother, wise woman that she is, talked about how this can apply to every aspect of life. I listened but also brushed the words off. Or I thought I brushed the words off; in reality, they have been rushing around in my mind for the past week.

This is my first step. I am writing a word, and I am going to teach myself everything there is to know about it. And how it relates to my life. And that word is: change.

What is your word?

(title from "landslide" by fleetwood mac)

this is where the old is ending

picture found here.

I started this morning with a less than thankful heart. Frustrated with several different situations, I headed to church. I asked for a softened heart during worship, and God answered.

His answers do not always reveal what I hope. As much as I don't want to, I often ask for His way but in reality am asking for things to happen in the way I want them to. Instead of leaning into all the things He wants for my life, I say I will but hold onto what I want, what I feel is best for my life.

I've gone back and forth today with what I feel He is calling me toward. There are moments of clarity and moments of fogginess. I experience moments of peace and joy intermingled with moments of frustration and of anger.

Right now, I'm in the midst of frustration and sadness and uncertainty. I think I know what He is saying, but it is so hard to let go of the things I want for my life. And yet, He continues to pursue my heart, to convict me of the things that need to change. He does not relent even though I have given Him every reason to.

God has been so tangible in my life recently. And it brings me to tears. He has such a burden for me, for my life, and for the lives of those around me. Even though I am fickle and even though I think that I know best and so often cast Him aside.

I am on a journey. And He is leading me. He is showing me my weaknesses and reminding me that He can turn those weaknesses into strengths. He is reminding me of the things that break my heart and showing me that He can use all of those things for His good.

I've prayed for this. I have asked Him to become the center of my life. And I wanted it. I just didn't know how hard it would be. Or maybe I didn't know if I was ready for Him to become the center or my life and that is why I held so tightly to the things that I hoped for in my life.

I am on a journey. Writing here, documenting both the ups and the downs, is part of that journey. I just pray that God will use these words to further His kingdom and touch the lives of people.

Because that's what I want. I think it is what I have always wanted. A chance to be a vessel of change. The opportunity to improve the world around me. It just isn't happening the way I pictured or planned it.

And that is hard. It is probably the hardest thing for me. To let go of the plans I had and to offer my hands to Him to use the way He sees fit. To let go of the desire to worry incessantly and come up with at least five different solutions for every problem. To depend on my strengths and abilities and wisdom instead of constantly seeking Him. To pray for His guidance and then to truly be open to where He is guiding me.

I will stumble. And I am sure I will take several steps backwards. But I am doing my best to grab hold of where He is taking me and to not let go.

And I am terrified. Absolutely terrified. Because while He has made promises, no specifics have been offered. There is no map to guide me where to go, and while there was a short period of time when the path was well lit, I am now taking one step at a time with no clear picture of where those steps will lead.

So I pray. The prayers are not always eloquent. And sometimes I just have to cry. At times, I lash out at God and at those around me. But I continue to press on and to pray, and I hope the same for you.

I appreciate every kind word I have received in the past. Every understanding hug and every reminder of God's love. It spurs me on to know that these words are being read because I know that I have people to hold me accountable even if I do not always want to hear what they might have to say.

God is good. So good. So much better than I could ever imagine. And He loves us. I just need to remember that there is not much more to ask for - that He will always provide what I need. And I need to remember to pray and to listen and then to respond.

(title from "listen to the sound" by building 429)

i tried but you tried harder

picture found here

Last night, after a dinner of tacos and before falling asleep on the couch at 8:30pm, we talked. And argued. And talked some more.

The plan had been a date night at home. We would have dinner and then watch a movie. My husband even bought popcorn to pop. Instead, we ate dinner and then talked and argued.

I haven't been the easiest person to live with recently. I'm realizing that more and more. I am also starting to get sick of myself, so I can only imagine how sick of me others are. And yet this inner monologue of anger and frustration and neverending questions continues on. 

Some of it came to a head last night. I was trying to explain myself and how I just want something to change. I said that I either wanted to move forward or have everything taken away from me so I could start all over again. And my husband listened and thought and then asked me what would happen if we weren't able to move forward. He wanted to know how I would feel if things were to stay exactly how they were.

The thought terrifies me. I've always been a creature of change. I move on. I go from job to job. I move from apartment to apartment. I even changed colleges after my freshman year. I leave relationships when I want to because it's better than being left. Except now I can't leave. It's not that we have a legal contract with one another. Those are difficult to break but can be broken. But we made promises to each other and before our families. Most importantly, we made a promise to God.

And so, I am here. I am wanting to move on and move forward, but yet, I sit in my same spot on the couch. (Note: I do not want to move from my marriage. I want to move on with my husband.)

I still don't know what to think about the thought of things not changing. I don't know how to respond. And maybe that's the point; maybe I need to just not respond.

My husband mentioned that maybe all of this was a test. In my anger and frustration, I said I didn't care if I passed the test. I said I was ready to fail the test if it meant that it would just be over. 

After my first full night of sleep in a week, I feel differently. I do still want the test to end, but I don't want to fail. I don't want the glory of passing the test and boasting my grade (as long as it is at least a B) for all to see. But I do want the opportunity to live out the life that I feel called to.

There are moments of clarity for me. Moments where I feel God might actually be speaking to me. Moments where it's almost like He is whispering to me and reminding me that He is right here beside me. But those moments are fleeting, and I don't hold onto them. I feel them, but when they disappear, I forget they ever existed.

My dad tells me the same thing each time I tell him good news. He tells me to remember it and to put it away for a rainy day. He reminds me that I should pull it out when things don't seem so good. He's a relatively wise man, and I always agree with his statements. But I never actually follow through. Instead I focus on the current happenings and get caught up in the moment. I see where I am and feel like it's a glass cell. I can see where I want to go and where I have been, but I can't move.

What's worse is I see where I think everyone else is. And I think about how I am not there. And I get filled with anger and my anger blinds me to what the reality is.

So maybe this all is a test. And if it is, I can admit to my current failings. If I were to be graded, I'm sure there would be much red ink on the page and then a teacher's dejected sigh as I was told to try again. I would chew on the end of my pencil and curl my lips and then try again in the exact same way I had done before, and the red ink would again fill the pages.

I recognize this in myself right now. I don't know if it's the relatively quiet house or something else, but I can now see a little bit more clearly. It has nothing to do with me, of course, but the work God is trying to do in my stubborn heart.

I can't promise that I will remain filled with hope. Or that the anger won't return in a day or even an hour. But I do know that I am trying. I am trying to remember that I have blessings like friends and family and a house and two crazy but lovable dogs and a job. 

And it's not that I don't feel blessed. Because I do at times. I think part of it is that my heart so aches for the world around me. There is so much I want to do be doing, but I feel like I can't do all of it. Or any of it. I feel stuck and unable to move.

And maybe for right now I am supposed to feel stuck. Maybe this is God's way of telling me, until I realize it and apply it to my life, that my way doesn't work.

In the midst of the talking and the arguing last night, I exclaimed that I was tired of doing things God's way and that I was ready to just do things my way. Because then that way, I explained, I knew it would work.

But it wouldn't. I'm realizing that now. My way doesn't work.

Last night, my husband suggested writing about it. I responded that no one would want to read it. He told me to write about it for me and then said that some people might relate more I expect. He's into this brutal honesty thing right now. And it's brutal - both for the person receiving the honesty and the person speaking it. But I think he's onto something.

So there it is. My honesty. I don't know what I am doing. Or what my next step is. But I'm doing my best to move towards something more. We'll see what God does with all of this. I'm sure He'll remind me that His way is always best - even when I disagree.

(title from "you run away" by the barenaked ladies)

together we will rise out of our night minds

picture found here



Over the weekend, we finished all of our Christmas shopping. We spent the majority of time pursuing the toy and craft aisles at Hobby Lobby, selecting gifts we thought were equally cute and creative for children currently in foster care. The plan is to either attend the Christmas extravaganza at Oklahome Employees Credit Union tomorrow evening and enjoy free beer and wine and music or to drp the presents off at another time. However they are delivered, we are excited that we had the chance to assist gathering presents for children who might not have received gifts otherwise.

The rest of time was spent looking through the books on sale at Mardel. There were a few arguments and tension thrown into the mix as well. Arguments and tension about the same things there always are.

We've become ensnared in a pattern, and we are desperately trying to break out of it. I think it's a pattern many married couples fall into. A pattern of expectations, failed expectations, comparisons to each other and to other couples, and finally the busyness of life.

This pattern that we are in makes it difficult to have grace with one another. There is some grace, but it does not abound the way it should. Instead it comes with words of hurt and frustration and apologies. We have been talking so much, opening the lines of communication as wide as we can, that we are both sick of the words we say and the way we say them. I am tired of talking about it and am ready for our actions to speak loudly enough that words will not be necessary.

In the midst of this, I began reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. My husband is re-reading it for a second time. Our plan is to discuss it as we read it. I've been hesitant to read this book as I have never read Blue Like Jazz, though is on my list, but it seems like right now is the perfect time for me to dive into a book that talks about writing, stories, and how they relate to our lives.

I'm a writer, and one day, I hope my title of writer will pay the bills instead of the title being only a very part-time job. But even though I consider myself a writer, I don't commit myself to all that being a writer entails. I let days and week and sometimes month pass without revisiting my characters. Then I might spend two days churning out 20 pages only to return to months of silence. It's not fair to the story I am telling or to the characters who are allowing me to tell their story.

In A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller describes God as the great author of all our stories. It's a comparison I have heard (and used) countless times, but the way Donald Miller talks about God as the author has me thinking.

When writing, the characters often times dictate the way the story goes. The author might know best, but the characters have minds of their own and want things to happen their way. The same is true for life. And lately, I'm becoming more and more aware of how much I veer away from the story God wants to tell through me. I discussed this with my husband last night, as we ate chilli, and it continues to resonate with me this morning.

God seems to be showing and telling us both what to do. In many ways, we clearly recognize the steps God is asking us to take. He wants us to follow a specific path in order to arrive at the place He has designed, but just like my characters often do, we're worried about taking those steps and wonder if our ideas are possibly better than His.

Donald Miller talks a lot about saying "no" to God. I'm good at saying "no" as well. I am also good at asking "are you sure" as well as taking my time to move towards the things He is calling me to, the things He clearly places on my heart. 

It's easy enough to talk about, to admit my shortcomings and the things I need to work on, but I still struggle with lifting my chin and taking that first step. Being aware of this inability or unwillingness (or whatever you want to call it) to take that first step angers me. I'm glad to see it but frustrated with the fear that continues to freeze me in place.

This fear keeps me from doing the things God calls me to. It also keeps me from living a life of adventure, a life of joy, a life of meaning. I don't expect life to be easy simply because I am no longer afraid. I think life might be more difficult because there will be more to lose. But my life would be worth reading about. It would be a life worth living. In the book, Donald Miller says that if something wouldn't be worth reading in a book than it probably isn't a life worth living. He says we're a character in God's story and that our characters should be rich and round.

I want that for my life. I want the cycles we are ensnared in to be positive driving forces. We know things need to change. This knowledge is an inciting action for our lives, and now it's up to us to decide what that action will be.

(title from "night minds" by missy higgins)

out of chaos life is being found

We had the pleasure of worshipping with a new band on Sunday morning. Our church will soon open a second campus in Oklahoma, and the band from this second campus played on Sunday morning. The worship was heartfelt. Watching the band, I could tell their heart was in the right place - with God. Mine wasn't on Sunday morning. To be honest, my heart hasn't been in the right place for the last several days.

It's not for lack of trying. I want my heart to line up with His desires. I want to shake off the negativity, the worry, the endless questions and just rest in His promises and His presence.

I think He's working in me right now. In fact, I know He is. I can feel Him pushing aside so many things and doing His best to show me what is important in life. He's providing me with the choice to stop and watch His work or to keep going and miss His calling.

I am doing my best to stop and watch. I am praying for patience, for understanding, for a chance to stand still. I am journaling and hoping.

One of the songs from Sunday speaks of how God is making beautiful things out of the dust and out of us. I listened to it twice last night before falling asleep and have played in at least ten twenty times this morning. The lyrics are calming my nerves, reminding me I am not the only one who feels like dust, who wonders if anything worthwhile will grow from the garden of my life. The lyrics are also doing their best to help me to stop and to remember what all He has done so far.


flowers in fishtown, mi

  I've attempted more silence over the past few days in an effort to hear from God, to be reminded by Him of what He is doing. I have also attempted more whispered prayers. So far, I have not received a response, but I am hopeful. He knows what He is doing. So for now, I wait to see what will spring up from the ground.

(title from "beautiful things" by gungor)

the bones are smiling in my body

My husband officially begins his new job on Monday, which means our lives drastically change on Monday. He has to report for work at 5:00am five days a week, which means we will both drag ourselves out of the confines of our warm bed at 4:00am. It's not that he needs me to wake up with him, but this marriage is a partnership. And sometimes this marriage takes extra work and giving up a few extra hours of sleep. I'm not looking forward to the early morning wake up calls, especially since I know at least one of our dogs will just roll over and stretch out over the entire bed. But at the same time, I am excited for the early morning time. I'm excited because I'll have an extra two hours at home in the morning. Two hours to write or to do yoga or to read or to clean or to cuddle with my dogs. I'm excited because I'll be forced to make coffee or tea for myself and my husband. I'm excited because on the weekends when our dogs wake up at 7am it will feel like we got to sleep in. I'm excited because everything is changing with this new chapter in our lives, and for once, I am at peace with all of the changes. Maybe it's because I am finally ready for change. Or maybe it's because, for the first time, it feels like I have slowed down enough to actually allow changes to happen. I'm not exactly sure. What I do know is that I am embracing the changes. And I am refusing to give up. And I am trying new things. And I am loving this new season of our lives. I entered a short story challenge earlier this week. And I won, as in I placed first. All through college I was told that I wasn't really meant for short stories, that my writing was more the style of novels. And I do think that's true. But I allowed those words to keep me in the box of writing only novels. Until this opportunity presented itself and I decided that I might as well give it a try. I'm not going to get overly emotional. I will save that for my husband. But I am going to say this: winning this challenge reminded me of how much I love writing, of the fact that this is what I love, of the fact that this is what I am meant to do. And so, I will at 4:00am and at night. Family of Three I took my first pregnancy test when we lived in that old house on Rory Drive. I teetered on the edge of the bathtub; the test rested on the vanity. The wood floors in the hallway moaned as John paced up and down, up and down. 10 steps one way, a moan, and 10 steps back. Step seven. “Is it done?” He asked. The clock ticked past the fifteen. It’d been five minutes. “No,” I said. Three more steps. The floors moaned, and he turned around. I picked myself off the bathtub. Two steps to the vanity with my eyes closed. And there it was. A solid line and a faint line. I squinted my eyes and brought the stick up to my nose. Two lines. Two lines. Two lines. “How about now?” He stopped after five steps. “Now, yes,” I said. The bathroom door opened. His hands stuffed in his pockets, and he stopped just inside the bathroom. A jingle of tags, claws hitting the floor, and three seconds later, I was in his arms with the test falling to the floor. Rascal sniffed at the test and glanced at me with warm brown eyes. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” John said. He held me tightly, kissed my cheek, and then squeezed me again. My eyes stayed on Rascal. He dipped his head to the floor and picked up the test. He started to back out of the bathroom. “John, Rascal has the test,” I said. John dropped me to the floor. “Rascal,” he warned. Our dog was in the hallway. Five steps, a crash, and then a jingle of tags. John chased after him. I glanced in the mirror. I still looked the same. “Damn dog,” John yelled. The bathtub beckoned me, and I returned to my perch. I didn’t know then how much I would miss my family of three. I didn’t know then that it would be five years, four children, and two dogs until my ankles returned to their normal size. I didn’t know then that it would be another two years until the house on Rory Drive no long stood, and I didn’t know then that at age thirty-five I would be left alone in a 3,300 sq. ft. house on Laurel Lane. If I had known, I would have listened to my heart. If I had known, I would have whistled for Rascal and run out of the house. He would have followed me to the car, and we would have left. I would have had a new family of three. Instead, I teetered on the bathtub. John returned with a slightly bent and chewed pregnancy test. He scooped me up in his arms and kissed me while Rascal licked my legs. I would miss my family of three. Thank you Jasmine. Words can't express my gratitude or surprise. (title from "giggling again for no reason" by alanis morissette)