The Fat Girl's Guide to Life

Am almost to the end of this book. Got in North Carolina at really cool bookstore. You bring your books in; they tell you what they will give you for them. You get store credit and go purchase other used books. It's a great idea and they had so much variety - it was huge.

This book is awesome!!!! Every fat girl i.e. if you are over the size 12 or overweight for your size you should have this on your bookshelf.

baking cookies

this has become a "aunt jessica" tradition. i'm usually on top of this; i'm usually chopping at the bit to make my few dozen cookies. i don't know this year i just wasn't as pumped. guess i figure the kids are getting "too old" for this little tradition.

every year at thanksgiving and/or christmas and well just about anytime i stayed with the kids or them with me we baked cookies. it was never really about the cookies. it was something we could do togehter. make a mess. eat 1/2 the dough.

so this year, robert wants cookies. wants to go to wal-mart b/c i've failed in my auntly duties. needs me to make cookies.

so this time i made them. it's the first year i've made cookies solo. but each of the kids wanted them. and of course at least one of them wanted to eat the dough with me.

we laugh. when robert is married i'll show up at his door with cookie fixin's and ask his wife if i can come in to make cookies for my little (6' 1") nephew.

thanksgiving family traditions

i had forgotten what playing games with my family is like.

LOUD

not actually sure that even accurately describes the scene. we're all talking. we're all competitive. we hate losing. we're impatient. we all have opinions, which oddly enough rarely have anything to do with the game. in fact i'm not sure how much attention we are paying to any one thing considering we are focusing on the next word to play in Scrabble that will earn both a triple score and block the next player, "encouraging", in our ever so subtle way, the next person to hurry up and take their turn, and espousing what we not only think but know to be true on Kelly Clarkston's talent or lack thereof, immigration laws, and child rearing.

i'm surprised that we are able to complete any one game or do so without bodily harm done to someone.

perhaps we "survive" our odd, wacky time at the dinner and game table, b/c someone is always laughing, about to laugh, or recovering from laughing.

it's our antidote to a very critical undercurrent that exist in our family. i think it (the critical part) might be hereditary and at times reason enough to not procreate, thus adding to the future genetic pool. the world doesn't need more critical people. it needs more people hoping. or so my idealistic self believes.

but reality is harsh. the world we live in, that my niece and nephews, are on the verge of entering (funny how we say that as if they aren't dealing with life's complexity now) is somewhat depressing. my niece's friends pose pictures of themselves on My Space, that if not pornographic are at the very least suggestive. girls lost in this idea that being sexy is the same as sexuality. that one can not be sexual unless one is involved in sex or able to demonstrate a knowledge of sexy.

this knowledge without understanding frightens me. sex without sexuality. sex without the soul. sex that involves physical moving parts misses the make up of the whole person. it misses the image of God. and in that missing of what is truth, we devalue others. we devalue ourselves. and it's as if the whole world becomes devalued and we are oblivious, drugged by the idea that we are in control. clueless to how the whole is connected to the little bitty day to day choices about how we see ourselves and our choices.

and i ramble but all this amidst a family of critical thinkers, members with their brains turned on and it is staggering. it's staggering on a personal level b/c i wonder sometimes if i or us will ever be good enough? is it ever good enough? the taking out the dishes...the loading them up....is there a better way? responding in irritation...does that make me less Christian...less good...less valued? it's down right overwhelming on a bigger level, b/c the world isn't good enough and it doesn't have enough to offer and it so often gives us less for more and it will never be - void Christ - what it should be, could be.

and then i look around at their faces - mom, dad, sister, brother (in-law), niece and both nephews. depending on whose been snapped at to hurry up and take their turn or whose been the butt of our piercing jokes or whose just been given a back rub or told they are their aunt or poppa's heart and soul or whose witting comeback has all reeling, you'll see faces that tell a story.

stories of kids who threw rocks at a dentist's window outside school. this same dentist now has a "kids get lost" sign as a result. stories of kids who stood up for themselves and say "no more" to the bully at school. stories of breast cancer survived. stories of being thin, then fat and now losing. stories of parents who failed to do what they should have done.

see we have history. and that history makes us laugh. and i believe that history is what gives us hope despite what we can so easily criticize and tear apart. it's why we laugh. it's why in this family we can be so irritated by your annoying ways and yet find you so amazingly awesome all at the same time. and why we have the gift to explain that to you - in five minutes we tear you down while building you up.

our history is our hope. and why we come back to the table each holiday and throw down the Scrabble game and each attest to the other's lack of wits.

Grucks

This is my new truck - or as Staci calls it a Gruck.

I love it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what they want

Disclaimer: this is a pissy, woe is me, self-pity post. it's meant to purge what i feel at this moment at this exact time only. it is not representative of who i am or how i view myself or people in general.

so they say they want me to be myself. live from the core of who i am. and of course live that in balance with others. obviously, i will from time to time have to adjust who i am to some degree to live in harmony with others. i can't just go tell everyone i meet how i think or feel just b/c that is my natural state. i do have to think of what is best for others and the repercussions to a person's being by my actions. yet i am not suppossed to repress my feelings or avoid confrontation or state the facts or call things out.

yet when i do that - lay out the facts - here's the case, the situation, the problem then the focus becomes not the problem, but that i'm pertubed, that i didn't communicate the right way. this is extremely frustrating when other forms of communication have failed or had minisucle results. the focus becomes something other than the problem.

i guess i'm selfish. but i don't want to accomdate for everyone. it gets tiring. and how am i suppossed to be me if me makes things worse. i want to be a servant's heart. i'm willing to take the blame. to swallow pride. be the bigger person but there comes a time when, dude, you just can't handle the truth or the way things are, or reality. it's not okay to be upset. it's not okay to be irritated.

be me? being me right now is an internal struggle to not shut down.

a movie and starbucks

i went out with a friend - jenn (http://jennylaneswift.blogspot.com/). you have got to see the bourne ultimatum. it's awesome. the plot/substance is better in the first two but it's still a great movie and a great wrap up for the series. great action scenes. i couldn't keep up with the car chases. great stunts. and they still leave a few unanswered questions which is great.

gold's gym

anyone care for a walk?

rocks

this is a post i started the end of april and have tried on and off at various time to finish but always felt that anything i wrote came up short of what i was trying to say. but i think it's time to try again.

somewhere along the way we pick them up. i know i did.

rocks. not the kind down by the creek. i love these kinds of rocks. their many colors. come rough. some smooth. some deceiving: smooth on the outside, but cracked edges revealed they were ragged on the inside. i used to collect them for my grandma for her garden at her trailer. i even got in trouble once. hiding them all in my room under my bed, making a mess, overflowing. told to throw them out, i hid them under our trailer and when grandma came explained to her that she couldn't tell anyone because i was supposed to have thrown them out. but i hadn't. i had saved them just for her.

my sister always liked the smooth ones or so i think. for some reason i've always associated smooth ones with here and when i've been at different places i've picked some up for her. or just thought of her and smiled. i even have one that sits on my desk in this really cool fish dish i have. smooth. shades of tan. shiney. i keep it because it reminds me of her. my sister.

but there are other rocks. rocks we don't see. but we feel them. somewhere along life's journey we pick them up.

pick them up and carry them. we feel their weight. extra. holding us down. residing in the depths of who we are. that pit of our stomach. still we carry them. still we pick more up and then what?

they get heavy. yet we seem unable or unwilling to set them down.

it's understandable. these rocks. they represent, remind us where we've been. what we've come through. but you have to ask yourself if these rocks - these badges of honor that say you've survived and made it when others fell by the wayside, these coat of arms that say you're protected and no one can hurt you and no one can defeat you - are they worth the weight?

more importantly, are they worth what you can't pick up because you have no room to carry anything else? are they worth what you can't pick up because you have no more strength to carry more?

i used to tell someone close to me that he looked at life like a "cost-benefit analysis". everything in life went through the analysis. the price was paid only if the benefits outweighed the costs. self-sacrifice was only had if the rewards were good enough which makes the sacrifice null and void. and most of us know that life - life lived to its fullest off the things that really matter (faith, hope, love, joy, peace, contentment, self-identity, community, longing, even sex) - are usually had for a price. and the rewards may not be redeemed for years to come. the rewards may not even be in this life. and what rewards come in this life may not measure on our "cost-benefit" scale.

but here i think this analysis works. in fact i've come to find this analysis works really well. is drinking 64 ounces of pop a day because i can worth the costs later in life? is the time and immediate energy i save in not being more organized worth the stress at bill paying time?

and here with these rocks that remind me of who i am, where i've been, what i know, are they worth the cost down the line? i mean if i let go, there's this feeling that somebody will get off, get away and maybe, never pay. if i hold on to vengeance, anger, revenge, bitterness, hurt, unforgiveness i acknowledge what happened. letting them slip through my hands feels like acting as if it never happened. so we hold on.

but what do i really gain? a reminder of their sin, their short comings, their failures? the price it cost me? their gain at my expense?

and that's just it. so much in life costs us. so much stuff....crud...oh, let's just say it...crap...in this world costs us.

why add to what we've already paid?

why pick up weights that we don't have to carry? why? for weight we were never intended to carry.

see i had a big rock.

how it came to be and the million ways i came to own it don't really matter now. only that i carried it. but as the water - living water - has torn at the layers it reminds me of an old 80's song - i think it's about forgiveness.

and that was my rock.

quite an ugly rock.

unforgiveness.

and somewhere last spring i realized that it wasn't worth holding on to. someone might not get "theirs". "what was coming to them" might pass they by.

but i was passing by stuff all the time. things. people. places. joy. and a hundred other details that make up life. life that i was meant to partake in.

the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; i have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10 NIV

i played with the other rocks, but always had to sit them back down. had to move on. without them. there just wasn't room in my "pack".

unforgivenss. it was a big rock.

so i decided to leave that rock for lots of little ones. smooth ones. funky ones. round ones. flat ones. some new. some as old as the sun. some yellowed and browned. others gray like i imagine the moon.

and somehow as i dropped this rock i lost weight. literally. i can tell you the night i realized that the rock had to be left behind. i can tell you the moment that i felt myself breath and realized that i had not been using the full capacity of my lungs for a very long time.

and i can tell you an exact day when had you met me you would have wondered what i was smoking. the day the last bit of dirt and gravel and flakes that had clung to that rock were left in my tracks.

i wish the scale reflected what i literally lost. it doesn't. but it shows in a hundred other ways.

Jesus says we're to forgive. we talk about it. like it's about the other person. releasing that person from the debt they owe us. as if we are doing them a favor, a kindness, a mercy, a grace. i don't think it is. at least not very much.

i think Jesus wants us to forgive because he gets that it's about us. it's about releasing ourselves. it's about not tethering ourselves to a rock that we can't carry and blocks out life as we were intended to live it. it's about doing ourselves a favor, a kindness, a mercy, a grace.

it's about realizing the need we all have for reconciliation. see i've probably left rocks in someone else's pack. probably have had "whats coming to me" pass me by.

it's about the fact that we are all fallen. all in need of grace. all in need of a little bit of reconciliation.

and rocks just get in the way.

maybe that's why Jesus tells us

come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and i will give you rest. take my yoke upon you. let me teach you, because i am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. for my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden i give you is light. Matthew 11:28-30 NIV

maybe that's what he meant.

his yoke, his burden, the way he intended us to live life is easier than we've made it.

maybe we can't pick up his yoke, can't carry his burden, because we are still clinging to our own.

clutching to a rock we think will save us.

living life while drowning.

death

a friend died yesterday.

i sat with her at the end.

i feel rather unworthy to have sat with her at the end.

there were others who were far better friends and companions on her journey than i was.

i cared.

i thought of her.

i checked in with others to see how she was doing.

we kept in touch over 13 years.

but then i remember the words of Jesus,

"when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me"

when i ask what is that was done i read,

"when i was hungry, you fed me. when i was thirsty, you gave me drink. when i was stranger, you invited me into your home. when i was naked, you gave me clothing. when i was sick, you cared for me. when i was in prison, you visited me."

i did none of these things.

i watched a friend of ours at the end wipe with such tenderness the salivia and spit from her mouth as she siezured. i saw her hold her hand and rub her arm to calm and comfort her. i saw a former boss, a friend, reach out and rub her bald head, kiss her as he left. i could justify/excuse my inability to do either. to touch someone is not always easy. to touch death. to be so close to it when i, myself, have seen it up close and personal as a young child when we found my father dead. but the reality is that i hesitated b/c i felt unworthy. unworthy b/c i knew but did not reach out. i knew but did not insist that she be loved.

i knew but did not visit. did not give a drink. did not feed. did not care, not in deed. not in the way that Jesus says seperates the sheep from the goats.

she died yesterday.

i felt honored to have known her.

i felt treasured to have her hug me with no words at a crucial time in my life.

i felt unworthy to have sat with her through something so sacred.

Oh God

humble me.

break me.

don't let me pass you by.

let my faith be a deed.

it's my birthday

grateful

affording pleasure or contentment; expressing gratitude; well pleased

that's what i'm feeling. i've tried to write about it but i can't. i just.....am grateful.

it's the small things

ever stepped on a lego. just one. right smack dab in the middle of your foot. it hurts. you're tempted to curse the inventor of these tiny toys of torture. if your child is guilty of the crime of leaving one of these pieces of pain out on the floor you are either going to beg or rage that they from hence forth ever more search with a magnifying glass every inch of the room to ensure that no future innocent passerby will be assaulted. of course, whether you beg or rage depends on both the exact location the lego is embedded in your foot and the number of times you have begged or raged prior to this incident about such deadly little legos.

there's a point to the little lego that could stop you in your tracks. i mean think about it. it's tiny. it's meant for fun. it's a toy. yet, you a grown person are left looking much like a crazed person jumping up and down, swearing or biting your lip to avoid such a sin, dancing in place, grabbing your foot, with eyes watering, trying to communicate through gasping breaths. you've been stopped. whatever you were headed to do is now temporarily forgotten. whatever was next in line for you is left waiting for you to finish the lego dance. amazing how a toy, mere child's play, has you stopped (or perhaps dancing or writhing) in your tracks.



see it's the little things for me that do it every time. it's the little things that muck things up. not so much the big picture. not so much a crisis that demands a drastic decision that could forever change life as we know it. okay, a bit on the melodramatic side, but in reality i thrive on big ideas, the big picture, the vision, the ultimate outcome, the ultimate good. and give me a crisis, a moment where leadership and decision making is needed and i'm there to lead the charge living on the wise words of my father: poop or get off the pot. yes, not the most eloquent of leadership advice. we won't be writing any father/daughter books on that title. the truth is though i instinctively know what to do in those moments.


but day to day i sometimes think i might better be described as fish out of water. flailing around a bit. it's the day to day discipline. why don't i put everything on my desk back the same way, every day. is monday really that different from tuesday? is this wednesday all that altered from the wednesday before? the problem is i live in a world that demands perfection and we demand it now. so i being the take charge person when confronted with imperfection that either can't be changed, will always be a struggle or perfection that requires time become overwhelmed.


take the desk. the creative part of my brain needs the room, the chaos to function in. the part of my brain that runs literally 90 miles per hour on a slow day needs to be able to toss and run. and in those moment of great inspiration, a cluttered desk and a two week old sticky note left in a toss and run aren't important. but in scheduling of leaders, in finding a seat for a person to come and sit and seek advice, sticky notes left here and there and cluttered desks make it hard. make it hard to do what needs to be done today in between the crisis and the ultimate end.


so my response, just forget it. i want to do it right and do it all the way and it's not my strong point and i know i'll never do it perfectly and so i get overwhelmed and walk away. sticky note still left in creative chaos. chaos that suits the moment, that serves the ultimate end, but keeps from ever really reaching the ultimate end b/c the creativity is walking around on a sticky note stuck to someone's foot who stopped by the office to see me.


you know the funny thing is this post (in my mind) started out with a goal. a goal of getting to an idea of pop and dieting and eating healthier. i realize i'm taking the long road getting there but i think it's the little things that keep us from eating healthier, being healthier. we look at the scale and we say, "oh my!". it's depressing. if you have never experienced the depression come with me and let's go shopping at the big girls' store. it's excruciating and i'm not even obese (by non-medical average joe on the street standards - which means i've got about 50 to lose). and again b/c we can't have it now, b/c it will probably be a struggle, might always be a struggle, and getting there requires time we just say forget it. we get overwhelmed.


but we can start somewhere. like today at lunch. i got a salad (that's not the starting point) but i got the dressing (ranch - yummy!) on the side. i dipped rather soaked my salad. it's a start. a small one. but i ingested far fewer calories today than the day before. and today i had less pop than yesterday. not much, but something. and overtime the somethings add up to calories that i'm not shoving into my system. and the little choices i make here - strawberries instead of brownies - add up to calories that feed my system and give me more than i had yesterday.

i wonder if we do the same thing with our faith journey. we know there are things we should cut out, get rid of. or things we should do more of.


we have this image of the person who prays an hour a day, but between work, chores at home, spouses, kids, and a myriad of other things that claim our time we just can't see it happening. and it does it might be a struggle, it might take time, it might not ever be what we envision - this perfectly set apart hour of a full 60 minutes where we are obsessed with none other than God. so we don't. we don't pray. we don't pray more than we did yesterday. we don't pray better than we did yesterday. and a year from now we are still stealing 10 minute now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleep prayers.

Therefore, I urge you, brothers in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living

sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the

renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approved what God's will

is - his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Romans 12:1-2

doesn't the pattern of the world tend to toss and run. if it can't be fixed, throw it away. if it isn't perfect, don't bother. if it's hard do something else. if it isn't now, don't spend the time to make it be. if you'll never quite achieve, let it go. we do this in our marriages, in our attitude at work, in our relationships with our kids, our neighbors. it's kind of scary to think we are still conforming to the patter of the world even as Christ followers. in my noble goal of wanting to pray more, to be more like Christ, which seems so grand a goal for a believer, i am actually modeling the pattern of the world. i'm conforming to the very ideas that Paul urges us not to.


perhaps, all you have is 10 more minutes to pray today than yesterday. it's a start. and that may be all you have for a today and tomorrow. funny thing is i bet you'll find more time the more you keep striving toward that goal. oh you might not reach the full uninterrupted (remember there are legos in the hallway on the way to your closet to pray) 60 minutes dedicated to God. but if you do more today than yesterday, if you start somewhere, if you are willing to not conform to a pattern of the world, i bet this time next year you are closer to 60 minutes than today. and i bet that the quality of the time you spend with Him might be better, what you are putting into that system of yours is just a little bit better.


so i don't know if i'll have all 50 lbs gone by summer '08. i do know i'll be closer and the quality of the poundage i carry will be better.


it will always be the little things that muck us up or that's what i think. it's also the little things that can make all the difference. a lego just isn't a E-normous well designed destroyer of parents world wide, but a reminder that there are little things running around that bear no price b/c there value is worth every embedded lego you pull out.


ps - on the way out of the office today, i threw away some old sticky notes that where on my cluttered desk. got to start somewhere, right?

spoiled brats

dare i say it?

we - and we being christians of the western hemisphere, particularly those of america and self included - are spoiled brats.

i've oft thought this. i remember returning from the philippines at the age of 16. my parents and i had spent a year there serving as missionaries. i had great difficulty adjusting back to life here with so much after having not only seen a world with so little but having lived with so little. and been so happy.

and i must confess that at times i've prided myself on having difficulty adjusting back. it showed how unmaterialistic i was or had become. how culturally aware i was. how in tune i was to the rest of the world. and i have been because of that experience. it forever altered the way i saw my culture, my country, myself and my religion.

but i found myself this week once again aware just how spoiled we - and me - are.

this weekend was missions' weekend at my church complete with video about the czech republic, brief interview with a couple we are sending to the czech republic, video on poland and a pastor from poland who preached (which is a whole another post). we also did a live feed from a country in the middle east where we have missionaries.

and what they said made me ashamed to be not simply an american but a christian american. now let me say i love my country and am thankful that for whatever reason i was born "here" and not in a million other possible "theres". and my shame is not the kind of shame that wants to deny either of those facts - that i am a christian and that i am an american. but the kind of shame a parent feels when their child who they love, who has such potential and great qualities throws a grand stage fit in the grocery aisle complete with wailing, flinging of arms, and kicking that threatens to bring down the display of cheerios cereal boxes. for a moment every parent who experiences this looks for the nearest exit and contemplates if an escape is possible. you cringe that your child could behave this way and why must they of all places and times do it now. and that is how i felt sunday as i listened, we who have so much potential, so many resources, who have done so many great things - why must we throw our tantrum here and now in this world.

this missionary couple explained that God was moving. they knew He was moving because of the recent signs they had had in the country. signs such as the recent death of christians brutally murdered for their faith. and i was stuck. here in america we complain, we fear, we want to take up political arms and fight because we are being persecuted, our rights are being taken away, eroded ever so slowly. we hear the plea of so many well known christians that the end is coming and that we will soon be a country where God does not exist, that God is bringing His punishment and soon we won't even be able to say His name and this is all proof that God is no longer with us like He was before.

and while everything listed above may have truth, it's not the truth of it but our attitude that i question. we see our "persecution" and pending "persecution" as evidence that God is not moving, that God is withdrawing His grace and His love and His blessing, that the world is going to hell in an handbasket (whatever a handbasket is and why one goes to hell in one are a mystery to me) and yet these individuals and so many throughout the world see the persecution as a "sign" that God is moving, that God is coming not just to bring justice and righteousness and punish the evil doers but to draw men to Him. the families of these men, the couple went on, our blessing others by their forgiveness. their persecution is a sign that God is loving and has grace and blessing.

i think of the early church. it was persecution that caused the gospel to spread because the gospel bearers were forced to flee, to move, to go into the world and engage their world for their very survival. perhaps our "persecution" and our pending "persecution", the removal, the eroding of our rights further and further and the secularization of a nation are God - in His mercy, in His grace, in His love - sending us out to engage our world so that men and women will be drawn to Him.

maybe He's drawing us to Him. unfortunately, perhaps we can't see that because we are too busy throwing a tantrum in the grocery aisle.

a psalm

okay maybe i'm the only one and maybe my faith is not what it should be but one thing i pride myself on, albeit probably a false pride, is that i'm honest and the honest truth is i feel like a fake. i'm out of happy smiles, out of a face that says i'm fine, i'm okay, life is good. and as if to slap me in the face, the reality is: life is good. oh sure i've got some punches to the gut and some battle scars but i've got no reason to complain. i've worked with masses of people who have reasons to put their fist to the sky and ask, "why?".

i've been blessed which makes this ever soakening feeling worse. the feeling the pain will never go away and the verses you quote are shallow or more accurately you are just shallow. people say let it go and i do or so i try or so i think i do and i'd love someone to draw me a diagram because i must just be that dense because here i am, almost two years later pain fresh and raw. what pain? does it matter? can't you relate? pain is pain and time doesn't heal it, just dulls the ache.

and you shouldn't listen to sappy songs when you are in this mood, i know but this is my favorite song at the moment - by the weepies

scattered shadows on a wall, you watch the long light fall
some impressions stay and some will fade
tattered shoes outside your door, clothes all on the floor
your life feels like the morning after all year long.

every day it starts again
you cannot say if you're happy
you keep trying to be
try harder, maybe this is not your year.

movies, tv screens reflect just what you expected
there's a world of shiny people somewhere else
out there following their bliss
living easy, getting kissed
while you wonder what else you're doing wrong

breathe through it, write a list of desires
make a toast, make a wish, slash some tires
paint a heart repeating, beating "don't give up, don't give up, don't give up."

and i'm trying to hold on, to keep repeating "don't give up". trust. take bad from the same hand that you take good. trust not in what you see but what your spirit reaches for. trust in His character, but i must confess i'm angry cus i'm still hurting. the balm of Gilead seems to come up short or is just slow in the coming. and then fear strikes me. can i say that..should i say that?

but i'm counting on the character of God who knows that my heart is forever tethered to Him. it's just blowing in the wind and my strength is waining.

but still i will wait.

the Balm will come.

and it will be good.

till then....i guess i can always smile.

here's your sign straight from the throne

you know the jokes. jokes about handing out signs. signs to those who seem to ask the dumbest questions or do the stupidest things.

It's like before my wife and I moved. Our house was full of boxes and there was a U-Haul truck in our driveway. My neighbor comes over and says, "Hey, you moving?" "Nope. We just pack our stuff up once or twice a week to see how many boxes it takes. Here's your sign."

I was watching one of those animal shows on the Discovery Channel. There was a guy inventing a shark bite suit. And there's only one way to test it. "Alright, Jimmy, you got that shark suit on, it looks good... They want you to get into this pool of sharks, and you tell us if it hurts when they bite you." "Well, all right, but hold my sign. I don't wanna lose it."

i wonder if at times God has a sign for us.

recently a friend and i were talking about seeking God for various things, wanting to pursue

talents passions gifts dreams callings

but wondering if we really had what it took. this friend mentioned that if God gave them this particular gift He'd also show them how to use it but there seemed to be no directions, no map, no manual, no "how-to-do" list. Yet, opportunities were presenting themselves to use this very gift, this passion and people were noticing and holding open doors. it was almost as if God was trying to get their attention, standing on one foot, jumping up and waving his hands all around, shouting in 'spiritual speak', YES YES YES

and yet...

we ponder. we wonder. we question.

and as a result,

we hesitate. we falter.

and i wonder if God has a sign for us.

i'm no different. lately everywhere i turn a particular group of scriptures keep turning up. i can't even remember, to be honest, where or when this set of scriptures began to roll around in my mind. i think during a sermon when i should have been listening and following along and part of the scripture was used as text. and i kept reading pass where the pastor stopped. since then it's been everywhere. like billboards. read a book and it's quoted there. doing a women's bible study and it's there.

i keep coming back to it and again i come.

and it speaks to my fears.

recently i read a book called captivating or i think that's the name. it's written primarily for women and i always struggle with books like that. i'm going to hear what a "christian woman" should be like and since i'm not sweet, gentle, and hate all things fluffy and pink i know the grade i get. but something in this book captivated me. the phrase: I am not enough. I am too much. and i could relate. so much of my life i've felt I am too much. and having lived through a divorce and added a decade to my life i now struggle with the feeling I am not enough.

and this feeling follows me.

to meetings. to relationships. to interactions. to opportunities. i censor myself. i hold back. because i might be too much and then what? i hesitate. i falter. because what i have to offer might not be enough and then what?

and then what? and then i hear. and oh, how i hear it, in the most forceful silence it speaks,

And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him (walk in Him). Let your roots grow down into Him (be rooted), and let your lives be built on Him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

Don't let anyone capture (cheat) you with empty philosophies and high-sounding nonsense that come from human thinking (the traditions of men) and from the spiritual powers of this world, rather than from Christ. For in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body. So you also are complete through your union with Christ, who is the head over every ruler and authority.

and i wonder if God has a sign for me.

you've accepted ME

get into ME

not what you lack, not what you don't have

build on ME

not what you have, not what you overflow with

don't think on anything but ME

don't let man's opinion cheat you out of my joy

live based on who you are in ME

don't be swayed by the tangible, temporary, ever shifting realities

I am the reality

everything you need is right here in ME

when in doubt come to me, when in fear come to me,

when in agony come to me, when anything...come to me,

it's all right here

you are complete,

whole,

full,

enough,

and never too much

because your life is now hidden

in ME

and I have it all under control

and the light bulb over my head starts to blink

2 + 2 finally adds up to 4

and finally i'm starting to not care

whether the light blinks above me 'cus it's His job to keep the electricity on

and

i'm starting to not worry about the outcome so much as making sure i offer my 2 and my 2

He's the Potter, He's the Sun, He's the Rain and He makes it all come up just like He needs it to be in His time, and amazing thing is He never needs a sign.

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. Romans 8:28

a weighty satisfication

the church where i work and sometimes seem to live has a commit2bfit challenge going on. (http://www.commit2bfit.blogspot.com/).

the premise is that basically you can't pick and choose which sins "against the temple" i.e. our bodies you'll preach about like smoking or drunkenness but not gluttony or overeating or eating so much junk that our bodies are literally turning in on themselves. if our bodies are the temple of God than let's face it some of us have temples that are run down and deteriorating like towns where factories have left and neighborhoods have dried up. our temples are gunky and gushing with seepage and i imagine our insides are functioning like plumbing that's got gunk in its works. and like most plumping problems it doesn't smell that good.

what i'm discovering as i live out this challenge each day. sometimes successfully (grapes, veggies, protein shake, spinning class and treadmills) and other days not so successfully (jr.whopper with cheese, large fry with extra salt and x-large dr pepper) is what makes me feel good isn't really so much the numbers on the scale. i've only lost 4 1/2 lbs. no need to rush out and buy new pants or shirts. and while i am feeling better in terms of physical health and overall energy and can tell when i've eaten that jr whopper w/cheese by the way i just feel clogged up, it's still not so much that.

i find a sense of accomplishment. you know how you felt or how you think you probably felt when you took that first step as an infant. how everyone clapped around you. or when you first learned to swim (or in my case how i'll feel when i figure out how to go under water for the first time without holding my nose). it's seems almost childlike and silly. but there is a satisfaction that comes only from accomplishing something, especially something that tends to be hard or new or different. i also find myself feeling good not about my butt size (though i am looking forward to looking at less of it in the mirror and say "ah, girl! you look good!) but about the fact that i am in control not food or some craving or some emotion. i am deciding when i will eat or won't eat. even on days when i "cheat" and eat that jr. whopper with cheese and fries with salt and honking dr pepper it's clear it's a choice and not a result of pure laziness or old habit and i know what i'm eating and that tomorrow i'll need to do better. but i also know that i'm drinking lots of water, eating more veggies than grow in an average person's garden, i'm becoming even more a fruit, and rarely does anything fried get past these sweet lips. i'm spinning, and walking briskly (i'm not up to running yet folks, this is a work in progress), i'm doing something on a machine that's half gliding, half climbing, half stair stepping and i don't know what's it called but my lower thighs, those muscles right above the knee and calfs, well they know what it's called - wake up time! no longer do i think about dr pepper. no longer do i gauge how tired i am or how far the grocery store is to my need for caffeine. the addiction (and let's call it what it is folks, no white washing or 'christianizing' here to make us feel better) is disappearing. and i like that. i like being in control (i know that's a shock to all my readers).

i hope to find myself a few sizes smaller in the next few months. walking up stairs at a running (not brisk) pace and still have oxygen left to ask someone a question at the top. and i'll take anye "ah, girl! you look good!" comments you want to give me when you see me. but, really, i think i'll just like knowing i can do it and i did it.

back to the cold

i'm back from a few days in florida. back to the cold that is illinois in the winter. i have to admit i've never really seen the appeal of florida. at least not in comparison to other southern states with warmer weather. but perhaps this skeptic and this girl who likes to go against the grain might make it to florida again.

it was so green. you get so used to the snow and the crisp cold that you forget how greenless you are and how brown everything will be right before the spring comes. it was so beautiful. granted i was on a disney resort so i'm sure things are a bit tainted but just flying over orlando, green was everywhere. flying back here was flat brown sprinkled salty snow on hard ground. don't get me wrong. i'd miss the snow. the soft falling outside the window. the running and plopping in the cold cushion that falls from heaven. the beauty of snow before anyone or anything has trampled upon it. there's a beauty to the starkness of white for miles around and even a beauty in the crisp wind that bites. but i'm just ready for green.

and i was blessed. no delays. flights all on time and some even early. luggage not lost anywhere. even got to ride from florida to washington with a handsome, puerto rican man who was charming and a flirt which made for interesting conversation and yes, i admit i have a soft spot for all things latin. but to be honest, and you might call me lacking self esteem or just plain needy, it was nice to have someone try to charm you. of course, the trick is to guard against the bee's sting or the possibility that there is no honey. and to have a conversation with someone who might have different opinions or ideas about life. i always find that invigorating, even if i know i'm right. ;)

and i got lots of reading time. my latest books: the walmart effect and the fast food nation. i may never eat fast food or shop at walmart again. then again cheap and fast is a hard and lazy addiction to beat.

so alas it's back to the cold until our green arrives here in illinois and then i'll remember that this place to holds a charm that's all its own. greens, yellows, browns, deep reds. corn and soy beans, buds and flowers all rising as if from death. and what was once so dead and dreary and crisp and hard and harsh becomes a place soaked in life, full, vibrant, loud, soft and tender.

kind of like where i've come from and who i'm becoming once again. but that's another blog for another cold day with some hot chocolate.

i want to go home

it sounds strange to say it. i want to go home. i remember as a kid when i would hear old people say how they just wanted to go to heaven, how they wished that God would just return, i would get upset. i wondered how they could want that. i was terrified when when Desert Storm took place in 1990. the end of the world was being circulated across the tv and in dinner conversations and i was so afraid. there was so much of life to live. children to have. worlds to see. starving people to feed. books to be written. so much was out there for me to do. i never understood this desire that some people had to leave this world. i understood heaven. i understood it would be fantastic but there was plenty of time to get there and that was the point. plenty of time in the here and now. i wondered how people could want to end their life, because after all that is what they wanted if they didn't want to live here now but go on to heaven.

and i almost hate to say it now for fear people will question my mental or emotional stability.

it does almost sound suicidal, but it's true.

i want to go home.

there's an ache in me. it's been there growing over the last couple years. i think it started with the tearing of a marriage, the ripping of two souls, the shock of finding yourself sleeping with someone who never was. and most days i think that is where the ache lies. it the hole that was created. the lack thereof of what God intended between man and wife. and most days i figure the ache will get less as life reshapes itself, redefines itself and God takes in the pain.

but some days, lately, i wonder if the ache is more than that. i wonder even if God brings someone down the road having filled me to overflowing with Himself, if there may still be an ache. see i have this theory. we were made for eternity. we - the guts of our soul, the inner mechanics that make you you and me me, and the spirit that moves through it all like gasoline or fire - are eternal. the eternal bound in objects intented for eternity but altered due to our sin. and so we strive against the present, here and now, and that which is eternal knowing somehow in our inner being we are part of the Eternal.

desinged for it. built for it. created for it. meant for it.

and so the ache begins.

and the ache grows. to go home. to crawl up into my daddy's lap.

i had a daddy once. a real earthly fatherly one. he died the spring before i turned seven. he was a good daddy. a good man. and i remember sometime that spring and summer that blend into one that i wanted so bad to see him again. to go to heaven to see him again. and i realized that there was no way i could. i could never be good enough. never do enough chores. never be nice enough to my sister. never keep my dog from killing her bunny rabbits enough. never enough to make it to heaven. i needed Jesus. and Jesus would come and live with me and someday He'd take me to see my daddy. i thought of this this past week as i, yes at 31, sat down next to my mother and cried. i wanted my daddy. but this time. this time i wanted to run past my daddy straight to the biggest armchair there is (they call it a Throne) and crawl right into my Daddy's lap. there'd be no explanation expected for feeling the way i feel. no need to justify why i felt the way i felt. no judgement for not having moved on.

just arms. big and strong and loving. secure.

and so the ache continues.

and i think it grows as we grow. we grow to see life in bigger pictures.

eternity.

eternal.

and we know that nothing will be set right or made whole without Daddy. and we know this day, this pain, will one day be healed from the touch of Daddy's hand. and Daddy won't send us away. send us off to Uncle Peter to take us fishing, but will sit on the deck of the dock with us and tell us how it all began.

the sun. the moon. the stars.

eternity.

and the ache grows till then.

until we're home.