Operation Shrink-A-Bootie (take 3435803049492)

Years ago, I read The Weight-Loss Diaries by Courtney Rubin. Blogging and chronicling weight loss seemed so novel at the time (at least to me), and I remember thinking "I could do that. I want to do that."

It's difficult to think about that because that was nearly 10 years ago. And for anyone who has struggled with weight, who has yo-yoed as I have, it is almost sickening to think about the 10 years that have passed me by.

I am not saying that you can't live while carrying around extra weight. I have remained alive and breathing for the past 10 years. I have traveled and worked and fostered. I have graduated college and begun graduate school. I have purchased a home and several cars. But I have also hidden behind the weight. Because sometimes hiding is so much easier than facing things head on.

I could be wrong, but I really don't think there is anyone who is overweight who doesn't wish they were a bit thinner. Yes, you can be happy and satisfied at any weight. And yes, people come in all shapes and sizes. But when you're more than just a tad overweight, there is this wish to be thinner, and this little voice that tells you life would be better if you just dropped 20 pounds or 30 pounds, may even 50 pounds.

That little voice is a liar and a bully, of course. Because weight doesn't dictate life or any one person's experience with life. It is only a facet of life. Yet, it is one that takes over.

I compare myself physically whenever I go out. And I almost always become self-conscious, feeling as though I am the largest person in the group and that this somehow devalues me compared to others. I also do this at the gym, as if I am trying to find an excuse to leave or as if I am trying to find someone else who is in the same boat so we can establish solidarity. I'll be the first to tell you that comparison truly is the thief of joy.

There is so much that you miss out on when you compare. I hid from that realization for quite some time, keeping my nose in my text books and spending far too many hours working on papers for graduate school. While I enjoyed everything I was learning (and still do), I also enjoyed that I had a reason why I couldn't go swimming or walking. I did the same thing with my poor, pitiful knees. "Oh no, I can't do that. Bad knees and all."

It's true that I have to adapt with my knees and that school is important. But those things also can not and should not be reasons to skip out on trips to the park, playing in the water, or wearing shorts. Skipping out on so much results in not quite living.

I did this a few weeks ago. I thought I was over it, and then, I met a group of ladies I had only communicated with over Facebook (sans one). We were all selected to be on Jen Hatmaker's launch team for "For the Love." We had similarities and topics to discuss, and yet, I felt out of place at the table.

I went over the differences in my head. I smiled and engaged some, but I felt uncomfortable in my skin and unsure of how to really participate and remain present. No one at that table did anything to cause me to feel the way I did; my subconscious did all the work on that one.

A few days later, I expressed all of this and named it. I've been aware of it since, and I have warred against it since. Comparison is the thief of life and joy, and I will fight against it stealing anything else from me.

But it is still hard. I hate that I am here, in this place of actively trying to lose weight, because I feel like I should already be past this all. I feel like I should already be thin. I get that "thin isn't in" and it is more about being healthy. That's what I want, honestly, but I also want to see the scale dip lower and lower.

The scale isn't the answer, and my worth is not in the number I see flashing at me. I get that. It doesn't mean that I don't want to see it decrease. It shouldn't be the sole focus, but it is important. I get why people say it doesn't matter, but in reality, it does matter.

I'm not quite sure why I am, all of a sudden after six months of silence, posting all of this. It isn't exactly the comeback to blogging I planned. But it is real, and at the end of the day, as much as I would like this to be not true (sometimes), I don't know any other way to be. If I'm not real, I don't feel comfortable, and I refuse to live in such a way that causes me to hide anymore.

The Busyness of Summer

This summer was the busiest I ever experienced. Busier than the summer I worked multiple jobs. And than the summers I worked as a camp counselor. Busier, even, than the summer I taught in China. I didn't enjoy this summer. I didn't really live this summer. I survived.

Of course there were moments I'll never forget. Experiences I am beyond grateful for. But those experiences were overshadowed by long working hours, endless deadlines, mountains of reading, and practicum hours. In addition, we participated in an intensive 10 week initiative to learn how to better parent while the oldest child placed with us learned different techniques to help her regulate, express herself, and establish that she was in a safe place.

Those 10 weeks changed our lives. We walked in a broken, messy, barely holding it together family and walked out with newfound hope. I will always be grateful for the experience- for what it taught me but more for what A gained from it. She came alive in those 10 weeks, and she invited me fully into her world. I'll never be able to describe how much it means to share the relationship with her I do now. No matter what happens I will always carry love for her and remember her as my buddy. I'll always see her reaction to "The Little Mermaid" on stage and how she loved her first big girl haircut.

Yet, I felt like a failure during those 10 weeks. There was a sense of failure before the 10 weeks started, and there is still a lingering sense of failure. Not because of anything related to the sessions but more because of what I wrestle with - all of which became even more evident during this summer.

Filling my schedule up comes naturally. Being an introvert at heart, who desperately longs for time alone to recharge, you would think I would welcome an empty schedule. Instead I tend to pile on as many tasks as I can feasibly handle with a few more for good measure. I do occasionally say no. But I usually say "no" to the wrong things and "yes" to things that might not matter quite so much.

It took a few weeks after we finished the counseling and learning for this all to come to light. More than that, it took leaving town for five days and turning off all email notifications on my phone as well as setting my iPhone to "do not disturb" to fully comprehend just how busy I had made myself and just how it had weighed me down.

I can't really remember the last time I willingly took time off - even for just a weekend. I've certainly planned to take off and have told those around me that I was going to take off, but I haven't really practiced that. It's one of the reasons I feel I had knee surgery back in 2013 (beyond, you know, blowing my knee out completely).

The busyness of the summer was tearing me to pieces. It was wreaking havoc on my family, my marriage. I felt it every Saturday my husband played with the kids while I worked or studies. I felt it every weekday I ignored the kids to study. I felt it when they exclaimed they wanted to go "bye bye" with daddy but not with me because he was always a part of the most fun times.

All of it I did to myself. Some I could more easily step away from. Other aspects were more difficult to untangle myself from. We all make choices, and some of my choices led me to a summer of non-stop studying and paper writing on top of parenting.

I know what's important. At least, I like to think I do. I say all the right things, and I work to be as fully present as I am able. But my heart goes to the grades on my papers for meaning rather than looking at the life I am living and the people (little and big) living out life in front of me.

I had to take a final when we were on vacation this August. I was able to change the date of the final to our first night of vacation rather than the second night of our vacation. But still. As soon as we arrived at a beautiful resort, I rushed into the room and settled into the desk area to complete my final instead of enjoying the beauty and the silence that was time away with just my husband. It was truly the perfect picture of the summer.

Since returning from our trip, I've silenced some of the remaining busyness. I've stopped taking on so many duties at work. I've enjoyed time spent in front of the television. I've made memories with the littles in our home. I've even read a few books.

I've heard Jesus in the silence and the stillness that weaves through my daily life. During the most intense moments of the summer, I struggled to believe in his presence. I thought it was because He had forgotten me, but it was me who had silenced him while focusing on everything else. I made the choice to make time for everything but Him.

Getting out of town allowed me the opportunity to breathe. There was a noticeable change to my person. I rested. My head felt clear for the first time. The strength I depleted during the summer returned. I connected with my husband and held coherent conversations. I even got to meet Jen Hatmaker.

It's been a few weeks since we returned. I've battled the busyness. I've spent hours on the couch. I've continued to connect with Jesus. But my mind is swimming. I'm stuck between purging our house and de-cluttering with this intense desire to take on a million projects - spreading myself entirely too thin.

We're in a stage of a transition. I'm transitioning with school and my practicum. We're transitioning with the littles (always and amen). We're discussing the future and what we think that looks like (simply so Jesus can blow it up and show us just how wrong we were). We're engaging with other families and even more with orphan care. There's so much happening. And while I'm terrified that I'll get swept up in all the transitions and lose sight of the constants, I'm also terrified of remaining still and quiet. Yet I know the stillness and quiet is exactly where I'm meant to press in.

How do you bid farewell to your reaction to life when you have no choice but to just see your commitments through? How do you balance the quiet with the insisting assignments and projects? How do you invest where you are when there's also a future to plan? How do you engage in the life you've been given when the life looks wildly different than anything you dreamed?

If you've got the answers, I'm all ears. Until then, I'm going to try to rest, to plan my time wisely, and to make as many memories as I can..... (and maintain a 4.0 in grad school because I can't quite give that up).

Jumping Back Into Foster Care

I stumbled across the Mother Theresa quote pictured above a few days ago, and it resonated with me. The words reminded me of how important it is for us all to live missionally and reach out to others. Then, I listened to a sermon regarding the purpose of life by Jen Hatmaker on Sunday morning, and it hit me in a way I needed. Both Mother Theresa's and Jen Hatmaker's words were a reminder that we are created to do things - not to just think about what we should do or to find our calling in work and home life. But instead we find our calling in Jesus and then we go do.

On Sunday evening, I sent an email to our foster care worker and explained that we were ready to open our home back up. We requested one child but said we could consider two children under the right circumstances.

The call came Monday morning - not even a full twenty-four hours since our re-commitment to foster care. There were three children - all under the age of three. And then the question "would we consider taking them?"

I wanted to say no. But I also found myself wanting to say yes. Sometimes you have moments of clarity and all of sudden you just know this is an adventure you are supposed to take. This was one of those moments. I explained that we would likely be open to two children but that I wasn't sure about three. I said I would talk to my husband and see what I could discover about child care.

And then I took to Facebook. Within minutes, I was flooded with tangible support from friends. Offers to help clean, offers to cook, questions of what do we need, and I knew we couldn't say no. I also found a daycare, within minutes of our house, willing to take all three children. It took a few more hours for my husband to call back, and when he did, he said he also felt like he couldn't say no.

So we said yes.

The children are supposed to be placed on Thursday evening. We still don't quite have everything we need. Some items we had before have gone missing, and we are trying to replace those while also trying to acquire more big ticket items - like a toddler bed, a dresser and changing table combo, car seats and a glider/rocking chair. And then there are the items we will need lots and lots of - diapers, food, bottles, formula, milk.

It's not the children being placed with us that is overwhelming me. It's the money and the things. It's all the questions of how are going to afford this or that. I understand the concept of God giving me (and us) the strength to do all things, but I struggle to grasp the concept of Him also providing in other ways.

So I'm leaning into Him. I'm praying for wisdom. And I'm just praying - period. Because this journey we're taking is not one to be entered into lightly. This journey is not one that makes any sense. And this journey is one we wouldn't have picked for ourselves. God, though, has picked it for us.

We wouldn't be taking this all on if it weren't for the friendships we've been blessed with. In the past 10 months, we've grown close to so many and found true community with some of the most generous and caring people. We've also received grace and offers of assistance from friends of the old. And we've been overwhelmed - knowing that God's hand is truly on this adventure.

Neither Justin nor I like to ask for help. We'll gladly take it but reaching out and saying "hey we need THIS" is not something we're particularly good at. Our pride is being left out in the cold now, and we are actively seeking help. Just last night, Justin said he doesn't feel guilty asking for help now - not like we have in the past - because this is an instance in which we'll need more help than we could ever even ask for.

The 7 Challenge - Day Eleven {Food}

Today is the eleventh day of the 7 Challenge and the twelfth day of The Nester's 31 Day Challenge. I consider writing each and every single day, but words continue to fail me. It seems I am going through an identity crisis of sorts with writing and with blogging.

You would think that after so many years of writing and of blogging (or at least keeping an online journal of sorts) this wouldn't happen. But what I'm learning and discovering through my own personal mutiny against excess is that there is nothing that I can do to feel prepared for every single life situation. I also am learning that I will never be done growing or changing or learning who I am.

Life is rather settled right now. My husband and I are enjoying our house. We're spending time together, and time apart, and searching both of ourselves. We're both realizing that life needs meaning. Not a meaning that comes from anything I could do or that he could do. But a meaning that comes from a God who loves us enough to bring discomfort to our lives and loves us enough to go after all the heart issues that we like to hide from.

There was a time when I craved settled. When all I wanted was to come to a point in my life where everything was going well, where I didn't have to worry about the future, where I was able to simply breathe and live my life.

Now? I'm craving change. But I don't want just any change. I want the change, the adventure, that God is calling me to.

The problem is that I don't exactly know what the change and adventure is. And I'm hesitant to dip my toe into just any change or adventure for fear of getting hurt and for fear of chasing after the wrong thing.

I'll never really know what the change and adventure is that God has for me, though, if I continue to reside in my settled life. If I simply wait for clear direction, the kind that lends absolute certainty to what my next steps should be, I'll live the rest of my life being settled, safe, and not truly learning what God has in store for me.

It comes out in a million little ways. School. Discovering my calling in social work. Foster care. Adoption. Even weight loss.

All of these things I first did because I wanted to do them. But there's no point in any of these things without first looking to God.

I want to work hard at school to bring glory to Him. I want to work in the world and provide a light of any kind to the people I come into contact with. I want to draw my strength to foster from Him. I want the stories of our adoptions (and oh how I am ready to adopt sweet babies) to reflect His story of adoption. Because adoption is not just about the baby but it's about every individual involved.

And weight loss? It's not so I can look a certain way but so that I am healthy and can carry out His calling on my life for as many more days as He might give me.

7 is a stepping stone. An annoying one at times but a stepping stone still. It's the first, and only, time I've truly sought God in a tangible way. A tangible way in which I'm living out my faith every single second of the day.

Six years ago, as an almost college senior, I traveled to China and needed to depend on God there, but in a way, that was easier. I was out of my comfort zone. I was forced into a new land where I was a foreigner. I needed God to make it through that. I didn't have any comforts to fall back on or any luxuries to seek out. I had an uncomfortable bed, clothes that I left in Beijing due to being stretched out, and no way to escape.

But here? I have a comfortable bed, Amazon Prime, a shopping mall, and the list goes on. I simply can not turn to those things; I have to turn to God. I need His strength to keep me from turning to those things. I need His strength to guide me through the next several days as I continue to eat foods I'm struggling to like.

I'm thankful for this journey. A little frustrated and wishing I had ice cream or cheese listed on my 7 foods. But knowing that God is breaking me apart and piecing me back together in the ways he sees fit, make the frustration disappear and remind me it's better to eat the 7 foods I've chosen then to try and finagle my way out of this mutiny.

Does God have you on a journey? The answer is yes - even if you don't know exactly what the journey is. Lean into Him. Listen to His voice. Bid adieu to all distractions. And trust that, even though it's difficult and even though it may not make complete sense, everything will have a purpose.

The more we lean into Him, the more we give to Him, the more He will lean into us and give to us.

The 7 Challenge - Day Five {Food}

I don't quite know how to explain the "why" behind the 7 challenge. So when people ask me, I stumble over my words.

It's this thing. And it lasts for like 7 months. We're on month 1, and we're just eating 7 foods. Then we'll have one month where we just wear 7 articles of clothing.

It is those things, but it is also so much more.

God has been wrecking me the past few weeks. He's tearing away everything I find (or have found) my identity in. And He's begging me to look to Him for my identity. He's calling me to a life of more. Not a life of more stuff or more food, but a life of more meaning. A life of purpose. A life lived out for Him, a life lived following Him, a life lived with purpose and intention.

I don't know exactly what it looks like. Just like I don't quite know how to explain the "why" behind the challenge. I'm constantly stumbling over my words and stumbling over the works. I'm messing up, asking for grace, receiving that grace, and learning how to live the rest of my life out knowing I've been (repeatedly) touched by grace.

I don't think the 7 Challenge will solve everything. But I do feel like I am gaining more clarity.

The more I strip away the more I can hear Him. The more I stop seeking my identity in things the more I can be lead by Him (and by my husband). The more I pray the more I can take the steps He would have me to take.

Right now, I'm getting there one avocado, one apple at a time. Next month, I'll get there one pair of jeans, one cardigan at a time (and laundry multiple times a week). Then, I'll get there by saying no to the need to spend money in more than 7 places.

Every step of the way, Jesus will be there, guiding me and teaching me how to let the "right things" die.

The 7 Challenge - Day Four {Food}

I thought the 7 Challenge was going to be easy. Not to put Jen Hatmaker down or anything (because her book made it obvious that it wasn't easy). For whatever reason, I decided it was going to be easy.

Not easy as in I could do this every day. But easy in the sense that I wouldn't have to stretch myself too far. There would be some hard days but overall I would feel accomplished. I would overcome. I would succeed at the 7 Challenge without breaking a sweat.

Y'all, it is only Day 4 and already I am wishing I were doing The 7 Experiment, not The 7 Challenge, and only eating 7 foods for one week. Because that would only be three more days. I would have a rough time surviving those three days, but it would only be three days. Instead, I have 27 more days.

27 more days, y'all. THAT'S NINE TIMES MORE THAN JUST THREE DAYS.

Clearly I'm losing it. The headaches are setting in. My stomach is a little upset over avocados every day and plain chicken. I'm missing Diet Coke something fierce. I'm having long, internal monologues over what constitutes as bread.

For example, while I was driving around the city today, I had the following conversation:
What's for lunch today? Chipotle sounds good. I could eat a burrito bowl without the rice. Even though rise and bread are similar. They're both made from a grain. And if I got brown rice, it would be like eating whole wheat bread since they're both brown. But then I couldn't get tomatoes because I said tomatoes OR bread. And I just don't think I can do chicken, tomatoes and guacamole only. Unless... Could I make lettuce look like spinach when I took a picture of it? After all, spinach and lettuce are both green leafy vegetables.

That's nuts. Rather than deal with any guilt about what I might eat at a restaurant, or have to physically restrain myself from ordering a Diet Coke, I proceeded to drive home and ate a lovely chicken breast with smashed avocado on top of it.

It was delicious. Or at least that's the story I'm sticking to.

Oh how I wish I could say that this is the first time I've ever incorrectly assumed something would be easy. But it's not. Rather it's been a running theme in my life for the past few years.

I thought weight loss would be easy.

I thought recovering from knee surgery would be easy.

I thought, having been a social worker for 5+ years, that foster parenting would be easy.

Those things have been and continue to be difficult. And I've tried everything I can think of to take the easy way out.

With weight loss, I've tried South Beach, I've tried Weight Watchers, I've tried Herbalife. And nothing's worked. It's not that anything is wrong with those programs. I've just tried to make them into something they're not.

About a week before the 7 Challenge started, my loving husband came to me and said he was concerned. He has watched me try and fail and then sometimes try again (and sometimes not try again). He knows my heart. He knows me.

I ignored him and told him this time it was different. That the 7 Challenge was not about weight loss. It was about Jesus.

I am eating my words now, y'all. That's probably the only reason I'm not switching to The 7 Experiment versus The 7 Challenge. It's probably the one thing that stopped my internal monologue today and guided me home for lunch.

There's no way I will make it through this next month if I lean only on myself or try to just white knuckle it. And I have to stop looking forward at the months to come and instead focus on the month of right now.

I can apply that to my entire life, really.

Nothing is going to be "easy" but the hard work will be well worth it. Jesus is much better than my own strength (and much, much stronger) so it's better to depend on Him. And I am here right now. It's time to enjoy the right now and not just think about the what next.

The 7 Challenge - Body Won't Break Style

Tomorrow is October 1st. It is the first day of my (scary) entrance into the world of The 7 Challenge.

What is The 7 Challenge? It's this crazy idea Jen Hatmaker created. An experimental mutiny against excess. And because Jen Hatmaker is destined to be my best friend (even though my attempts to "stalk" her in March failed), I decided it was time for me to take the plunge and stage my own mutiny against excess.

What are the 7 things? Here's a quick breakdown (thanks Barnes and Noble!). Food. Clothes. Spending. Media. Possessions. Waste. Stress. They would spend thirty days on each topic, boiling it down to the number seven. Only eat seven foods, wear seven articles of clothing, and spend money in seven places. Eliminate use of seven media types, give away seven things each day for one month, adopt seven green habits, and observe “seven sacred pauses.”

I'm starting with food. One - because that's what Jen did. Two - because then I can enjoy Thanksgiving when November rolls around. And third - because I need to stop eating Chik-Fil-A.

I've always struggled with my relationship with food. And I'm realizing how much I struggle with my relationships with other things too. I want to break the struggle. Not just because I want to lose weight. I hope that happens (I kind of need it to happen) but that's not the main point.

The point is to stop looking to over things for fulfillment. The point is to truly simplify (and not just talk about simplifying). The point is to let go and then let God.

I've done a lot of crying over the past few weeks. Because of grad school, because of work, because of changes in our family situation. And I've done a lot of trying to fill up the emptiness with things. I've prayed some, but I haven't really prayed. I've just depended on my Chik-Fil-A to get me through.

And my diet coke, too. (I am not getting rid of coffee. That would be cruel and unusual punishment to everyone who ever interacts with me. I am, though, going to limit it to coffee at home instead of coffee from Panera Bread, Starbucks, Wild Hero, and the list goes on...)

But I can't keep doing that.

You know that saying about how insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results every time. This smart guy named Albert Einstein said those words. And y'all?

I'm guilty of it. I'm guilty of thinking I can eat Chik-Fil-A six times in one week (and yes, that did just happen last week) and lose weight (and no, that did not happen). I'm guilty of thinking that there will always be money in my bank account. I'm guilty of thinking that I honestly need a fourth grey tee-shirt or fifteenth cardigan. I'm guilty of uttering the words "There is nothing to eat" and "I don't have anything to wear."

I'm insane because I kept expecting different results. I keep thinking I can just want to simplify or want to be healthy or just kind of try but not really give anything up.

I don't want to be Albert Einstein's definition of insane. And I don't want to just kind of try. I want to die to myself and live a life that is unabandoned. I want to reflect Jesus in every stinking thing. So I'm taking the challenge.

I'm excited to (mimick/copy/stalk/pretend to be) Jen Hatmaker as I take on this adventure. I'm excited to blog about how hard it is to give up Chik-Fil-A, how much I dislike spinach, how much I miss diet coke, how much I want cheese, how I don't know how to tell if an avocado is ripe, and eventually how much I miss the plethora of cardigans just hanging in my closet.

I don't promise to be perfect. With blogging or with adhering to the challenge. But I am going to try. Not only that I am going to depend on Jesus as I embark on this fast and I'm going to give him my life in a way I never have.

“If a fast doesn't include any sacrifices, then it's not a fast. The discomfort is where the magic happens. Life zips along, unchecked and automatic. We default to our lifestyles, enjoying our privileges tra la la, but a fast interrupts that rote trajectory. Jesus gets a fresh platform in the empty space where indulgence resided.”  - Jen Hatmaker

Day One {Food} | Day Two {Food} | Day Three {Food} 

 Day Four {Food} | Day Five {Food} | Day Six {Food}

lovely lines (week 5)

I don't have a full lovely lines post ready for you. But I did want to share a blog post from Jen Hatmaker (her words are piercing my heart lately).

"None of us are good at everything, but all of us are great at something. No rule requires focus on the parts we get wrong. There is always, always something worthy to honor if we’re brave enough to live like that."

"In our marriage, grace won’t mean what it might in yours. All I know is, rather than a list of techniques to work on (“What I hear you saying is my refusal to put things in our shared iCalendar makes you want to put my paper calendar in the wood chipper…”), all our junk can be soothed if not solved altogether by the simple addition of more grace."

"Sometimes my discontent with the Church I see is so intense, I fight the urge to run away from the whole mechanism and search for something that looks more like a hospital for the sick and a sanctuary for sinners. I think more Jesus is the answer, not more staff, more buildings, more mailers, more landscaping, more fish tanks."

Go read the rest here. You won't be sorry.

sometimes God ruins your life

Lately, God is ruining my life. And I do mean ruining. Everything I once thought I wanted suddenly isn't what I want. The plans I've had for my life no longer exist. I still have plans, but they're different. The plans aren't mine at all. They're God's.

I've always had a love for foster care and adoption. I can remember being in my adolescence and dreaming about my life as an adult. My dream was to have a large ranch on the beach. And that large ranch would be used to house girls suffering and recovering from eating disorders. Or to house children who didn't have families. At that time, I didn't fully grasp the concept of foster care and adoption, but I still had a heart for it. God was placing dreams and visions and love for the marginalized and the forgotten; I just didn't realize it.

My heart has been swelling lately. I didn't think I would be ready for kids until I was at least 30. And I never knew if I would have a longing to hold a baby. I kind of thought I would always want to care for older children - children who were already potty trained. Because honestly? How do you even teach a child to use the toilet? I don't even know how I taught our dogs to go to the bathroom outside.

But God knew. He always knows. It's a bit annoying.

He knew that my heart would change. He probably cringed every time I said I would never want children. He also knew I would meet my husband, my perfect help mate who compliments me. He knew that things would come together in a timing that I will never fully comprehend.

I honestly feel an ache in my soul when I think about fostering and adopting. It brings tears to my eyes (and I'm not one to cry easily). It makes me feel like I will have a true and definable purpose. Almost like I was created to care for the forgotten and the marginalized.

Friends of ours are at the very end of being approved as foster parents, and they blessed us by asking if we would be willing to be approved as their alternate caregiver (someone who can care for the children in their home should the need arise). I didn't even ask Justin for his opinion; I simply said yes. It wasn't because I don't value his opinion. I do. But I knew what his answer would be.

On Tuesday morning, I sat down with the social worker in charge of approving our friend's home. We talked about my jobs and my life and my knee surgery. She kept asking questions about me and my husband. Because she wanted to know about our lives. Our story spoke to her.

But it wasn't our story. We play a part in it, but it's God's story. His story of fostering and adoption. His love for the least of these.

That day was a moment for me. It was as though God broke open the entire world and crashed into my living room to look directly in my face and say this is what you and Justin are created for.

When it's time, when we open up our home, we will love every single child with fierceness and joy. We will not replace their families, but they will become a part of our family. And we will love them for the rest of time.

While this has all been going on (God ruining our lives that is), I've been slowly making my way through the book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. It's all hit me. How much I consume and waste. How much I have and yet think I need more. And while I'm still not perfect (Target and JC Penney can attest to that), I'm realizing just how much I have that I don't need.

It's not just stuff, though. Stuff is something I need less of, but what has truly gripped me about the book is just how much the CHURCH has. Last night, I nestled into our bed with my Kindle and resumed reading when this passage jumped out at me: "If the modern church held to its biblical definition, we would become the answer to all that ails society."

That truth is offensive. But it is true. We as the modern church have so much, too much, and we continue to want more and consume more. But we aren't giving back. We aren't taking care of the least of these the way the Bible calls us to.

I have spent so much time lost in my faith. I struggle with knowing what to share and how to share it. I struggle with loving on people without mentioning the gospel because people need to be loved more instead of talked to about Christ. I've felt lost in churches. Confused by what we are or aren't doing as Christians to serve.

I alone can't change the church. I alone can't make people care for others. But I can follow where God leads my husband and I. I can love my husband and love children who feel they aren't wanted. I can open up my heart and my home and feel every single thing.

When I started this blog, I didn't know what I was doing with it. I didn't really know what I was doing with my life. IT morphed into more of a weight loss blog, and while I still plan to write on that topic (once I'm able to exercise again!), I feel like God is leading me to document my faith and the works He is doing.

I'm not sure where this all will take us or this blog. I have dreams that God is placing on my heart right now - dreams that He is also placing on my husband's heart. And we are praying over those and seeking His guidance. I'll share when I can.

I'm so glad He's ruining our lives. I'm so glad I'm letting Him ruin my life. Because for the first time in a while, I feel like I have purpose. I feel like I am actually walking in the light.


also linking up here!