Who are you on the inside?

My life is in a constant state of movement.  Which is the way I roll, til recently.  I have just wanted to do nothing but sit on my rear and watch things go by.  I don't want to leave the confines of my home, yet I don't want to be here and I definitely don't want to do anything, i.e. housework.  Part of my day is busy with baby squeezins on the cutest little 6 month old that isn't from my gene pool.  She's a cutey patootie!  Then when she's sleeping, like now, I just want to check out.  Don't want to think about all that is going on around me, even those things that need my attention, like my housework, my online class, my follow ups on different things, etc.  All of which are important, but for some reason I just don't care much about any of it.  I want to be laying on the beach today.  Yesterday it was the mountain cabin in Colorado which is nice, but the beach is closer and most likely more attainable to actually do.  But yet again an unrequited dream for today.


Then the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter incessantly and I want to find something to change my focus before I curl up in the corner and start to cry.  A few tears will fall and my stomach ends up in my throat and I can't deal with that right now, so I try to stuff it all back down and just swallow really hard.  And, there, back to normal, or whatever normal is for now.  But then the nausea sets in and I wish I were crying again, but not really.


My children are wonderful.  For two of them, they are not my life's work anymore and I'm not sure how to appropriately train my brain and my heart to realize that letting go and letting God is exactly what I need to get used to doing for them now.  My role has changed from a teacher to a nurturing mentor.  Which basically means knowing when to keep your mouth shut.

The above Italicized piece of my post was written months ago, but is exactly what I am still feeling today.  It's ludicrous, my attitude.  I have no reason what-so-ever to be so negative and in such a bad mood all of the time.  Want to know why?  Community.  My life of people around me.  Those whom God has placed in my midst at the perfect time for me to glean from, listen to, be encouraged by.  But what do I do?  I continue to stay in my poor pitiful me mood and believe the lies that are whispering in my ear and trying to force them to be my reality when I know its totally untrue.

I have:

-A husband who tells me all the time, "I love you."  "You're beautiful."  And who constantly wants to be with me.

-A friend who reminds me every time a see her when I ask how she's doing, "I am choosing to be good" that it is my choice to decide what kind of crappy attitude I am going to have or if I am going to choose to be different today.

-Friends and family who constantly make me feel comfortable having them over, when my house is a complete mess, they just turn their eyes and enjoy the fellowship of each other.

-Friends who are always complimenting my cooking.

-Besties that I can text my crappy attitude woes and they offer me Starbucks!!!

-Brothers and a sister who always say they love me.

-A mother who always wants to hang out with me and help me with my housework and I make her sit and talk, instead (why do I do that?)

-A dad who would literally drop EVERYTHING for me if I asked him to do so.

-A job that allows me to smile at a baby everyday and she smiles at me regardless of my crankiness.  

-A set of friends who bring their baby to me everyday because they trust me to care for her and love her like they do and they constantly tell me they appreciate me.

-Children who love me, laugh with me, put up with me, call me and call me mom, momma, mother.

-A God who loves me enough to orchestrate all of the above just for me, each and every day of my life.

I am ungrateful and so unworthy of all my blessings through the people in my life.  But God is aware of that too and He sends them anyway.  I pray that I will continue to add to this list daily and come to appreciate and reciprocate what God has done for me by doing for others.  I am blessed to be within the warmth of the blanket God has woven for me.  The blanket weaved from those souls, believers and unbelievers, that God believes to be useful in my life if I would just stop listening to my own selfish lies and start hearing the music around me in these people.  I intend to turn up the volume today and lend an ear to the truth.

 “‘I saw the Lord always before me. 

   Because he is at my right hand, 

   I will not be shaken. 

²⁶ Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; 

   my body also will live in hope, 

²⁷ because you will not abandon me to the grave, 

   nor will you let your Holy One see decay. 

²⁸ You have made known to me the paths of life; 

   you will fill me with joy in your presence.

-Acts 2:25-28

Escaping and panic attacks

If it were up to me, today, right this minute, my reality would consist of sitting in a cabin, a small one, in the woods of Colorado watching the Aspen trees ready themselves for autumn.  Yep, when I close my eyes to have my Calgon moment it is that scene playing in my head.  So what's wrong with that?  Nothing really, except that it just seems cruel to be there every time my eyes close.  Those stupid desires and dreams we have in our lives taunting us.  Why does God let me have these desires knowing we cannot fulfill them.  I want to sit on the front porch with the chill of the air lingering til mid-morning.  Stay curled up in a Woolrich blanket and sip my fourth cup of coffee.  Homeschool my children using every book from The Lamplighter reading into the night by candlelight and the warmth of the woodstove roaring in the corner.  Sounds pretty dang awesome, right?  Ok, some of you might not think so, but it sounds like nothing short of heaven for me and I'm pretty sure that my husband would be right there with me on this one.  But, really, back to the original question, "what's wrong with that?"  Nothing really.  Most people live their lives the way that they want to without thought or regard to much else.  I'm for the "what about me" attitude right now, cause I'm in that mood so brace yo-self.  Here's my 12 month plan.  Yea, life's too short for the 3 year version.

Plan:

Save money

Buy property for cheap in Colorado

Build log cabin, open floor plan, minimalistic furnishings

Move into above cabin

Plant garden

Watch children and garden and marriage grow into something amazing

Can every fruit and vegetable under the sun

Hunkerdown for winter

Light fire in woodstove

Buy more Woolrich accessories

Crochet entire wardrobe

Start learning how to use a loom

Shovel snow off of roof

Get ready for spring

Start over again for the next 12 month plan

A great list, of course a little too much about tactics and less about concepts......  I struggle so hard with wondering why I can't have this life.  No, really, it's quite sad.  Will I be on my death bed with regrets in this area?  IDK.  Here's why.  I believe in a God, a wonderful, omnipotent one.  One that has laid out for me a plan for my life to follow His will in my life.  While God is definitely everywhere I go, like the mountains of Colorado, my heart just feels suffocated sometimes by the life I lead.  One of doing the "right" thing, living my life honoring God and walking the road he wants me to travel.  I know that He will provide for my families' every need, I know that, He has proven it time and time again.  There are times that my hubby and I discuss how amazing it would be to be missionaries, anywhere.  Or to travel from disaster relief to disaster relief and sharing the hope of Christ to those in need.  But then through fear or laziness or lack of knowledge I cower in the corner of my mind and click my heels together wanting to just be in the solace of that cabin.  That stupid, adorable, rustic, amazing cabin.  I want to pray, but don't want to hear.  Or maybe I will get the answer I desire.  Or maybe my desire will morph to meet the will of the Almighty and when I open my eyes there before me will lie my desire.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

-Galatians 2:20

Status Updated

I am a Facebook fanatic.  Not so much to let others know what it is I'm doing every second of the day, but really just to keep up with friends and offer encouragement when I can.  I take it on as a very different social media for me.  Some join to find their soulmate or to reconnect with old friends or for networking, etc.  I just like it because as I am locked away in my house most days it gives me a way to get out into the world while still sitting on babies and doing laundry.  Sometimes, however, things come across that just really put into perspective how we are all in different places in our lives, whether spiritual growth or just plain existing in society.  Here's the one that caught my eye today, names have been changed to protect the "friends" in my list:

Jane Doe Gooder: Ever done something nice for somebody and wonder why? I'm questioning myself right now!

Ok, let's get this straight. I used to live a life of "do", then wait for affirmation, then pat myself on the back, then do again and wait for more affirmation. But what happened for me was that when I didn't get the affirmation, my feelings got hurt, my heart hardened and I no longer felt like giving anybody anything. What was wrong with people didn't they understand the effort I put in to making their day better? Wasn't my gift amazing enough to deem a simple accolade? Then loud and clear in God's sweet and simple way, He asked the same of His gift to me. Wasn't my gift enough for you? But here is the difference. My attitude in giving was certainly not the same as the Heavenly Father's attitude of giving. He gave because He loved me. He gave because He wanted to give. I was giving to get, which is not giving at all.

Matthew 6:3-4 But when you give to the needy (or to those you love), do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing (give so often and so much that it becomes like breathing, involuntary), so that your giving may be in secret (even a secret from yourself). Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

Forgive me for the parenthetical paraphrase, but it gets my point across through this scripture.  Like breathing, you don't think about EVERY breath you take until its hard to breathe.  I want to practice giving so I stop thinking about giving and it does not become hard to give.

So, update your spiritual status and let us all know "what's on your mind".  Imagine if Jesus had a facebook and recounted everything through his status.

"Ungrateful people.  Fed thousands then told them the Good News and they all left."

"Being crucified tomorrow.  Probably won't be on here for a while.  At least three days."

"Funniest thing happened today.  I walked on water and Peter fell in.  Too funny. LOL!"

Ok, probably not with that attitude, but ......

God bless your every breath today!

Love.

B-, C+ and She Daydreams in Class

Most of my school years were described with the above, with some "talks too much in class" thrown in and a little bit of "she is a great student".  Everything I needed to know I learned in ........ just rang through my head and frankly still does.  I am such a daydreamer no matter where or what I am doing, my mind is wandering here and there.  Things to do.  Oh, why?  Seriously, why?  I can't take it with me when I leave this earth, so why?  Thank goodness that pile of laundry will not follow me to the heavens!  Although for my sis-in-law, she's love it.  She loves laundry.  Ick.

I have been on an average path my whole life.  Eh, whatever.  C'est la vie.  Whatever shall be, shall be.  It's killing my exercise routine among other things. I find my time sucked out of my day by things that I can't even recall their existence when I lay my head on the pillow rather than those things I really need to be doing, focusing on and making a priority. I love to sometimes be anywhere but where I am.  Like I am more secure in the depths of my fantastic imagination than anywhere in my reality.  It happens with my devotionals on a daily basis.  I'm in God's word and daydreaming about what awaits me later that day.  Or I justify multi-tasking my quiet time by doubling it up with reading my emails.  You know, the subscribed daily devotionals...... yea, not the same.

I do not believe that the daydreaming process is a bad behavior inherently, but getting out of hand like mine does, it does become somewhat of a life sucking manifestation of my spiritual journey.  When I find myself not staying on track with my daily quiet time and bible study I become distracted more easily and find that my daydreams become these thoughts of wild, weird, awful events and travels that just overwhelm my thoughts.  Last few weeks I've been convinced that I have some sort of life threatening disease because of a strange pain I've never felt before.  I have come to understand that the pain is derivative of the 15+ pound hunk of baby fat I tote around 10 to 11 hours out of the day.  But because I have resorted to finding other ways to take up my time, i.e. Netflix, Facebook, randomness and have not stayed the course with my walk with God, I let in all kinds of negative influences on my life.  I don't really know if I am disease ridden, but highly doubtful.  What I do know is that I am going to need more of my Heavenly Father's influence in my life to cope with something like that.  To bring me hope, joy.  "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind" in Romans 12 is so true.  Both ways, good and bad.  You will transform your mind if you fill it with drivel, you will get slime and sludge and nothing of substance.  If you fill it with the all powerful wisdom from the God above you will find hope and peace and joy in this crazy life here on earth.

I'm up for the joy.  How about you?

Christ brings us new life through the transforming power of his love.  Take a moment this week.  I am going to try.  And try without daydreaming about silliness, but daydreaming about those heavenly things, that's where I'll start.

And then, there was this on my blog page to the right of my new post and I thought it was worth sharing here.

Eumorpha pandorus, yea bless you!

This darling little (ha!) creature was hanging out on our screened door the other day at the crack of dawn because we forgot to turn off the front porch light from the night before.  Holy moly.  He, or she, was huge!  Of course, I had to go wake up Sarah so she could take a look at it and do her normal researching to find out "what the world" it was.  Hence the pictures that follow.  Eumorpha pandorus, or otherwise know as the Pandorus Sphinx Moth, is it's correct identification.  Pretty amazing creature.  Even more mind boggling is that the caterpillar from whence it came is a bold red fat looking guy with white spots!  God is amazing to detail, isn't he?

Then there was this guy:

We don't know exactly what in the world he was except really ticked off and very grouchy!  Our cat tried to figure it out, but to no avail.  It has monstrous looking pinchers and funky wings!  It was on attack with those pinchers going crazy.

So, when Sarah is not doing her entomology, she has taken on a new venture!!  Vegan dog treats!  I would love to go into some wild story about wanting to get my dogs on a raw diet and what-not, but really it's just because I am too cheap to buy dog treats at the store and I had all of these ingredients in my cabinets!

So, here ya go:

1 1/2 cup water and 3 tbs vegetable oil in the mixer and mixed a bit.

Mix together 3 1/2 cups of whole wheat flour, 1/2 oatmeal, 1/2 cup of pumpkin seeds, 1/2 cup diced carrots, 1/2 cup diced celery in a separate bowl then add it to the water and oil and mix.

Roll out onto the counter after kneading it a bit.  (Rolling it into the shape of the state of Louisiana is completely optional.)  Roll about 1/4" thickness and cut into whatever shape floats your boat or butters your toast.

She was doing these for training bits, so small rectangles is what we were going for here.

The actual recipe said to cut into dog bones and she tried a few of those and was glad we did small rectangles for the rest!

And Virginia and Chantilly are happy campers so far!

Life, it's worse than I thought

So, life's been busy around here.  Yadda, yadda, yadda and all those other excuses of why I haven't blogged in weeks, months, a while.  

So, yea, whatever.

It's all good.  Ran a couple of races, but my running has dwindled to a halt, until my schedule lets up enough for me to get some sleep and wake up early to do it!  Ok, enough excuses with that too.

Working keeping this cutie pie below, homeschooling, housework, veganizing the fridge, the garden and the bellies, etc.  

Great news is that we have a garden this year and we have been harvesting mostly lettuce and radishes thus far, due to a late start, due to some other excuses I could plug in here, but won't.  I did actually pick the first of our cucumber and squashes yesterday!  How exciting is that?!

Life is good.  Life is busy.  Life is, well, life.

This picture of these sweet pea plants grabbing the fence is my favorite.  Why, you ask?  Well, thanks for asking and for reading all the way to the bottom today! Because this is how I feel right now.  I feel as though I am constantly grasping on to the fence and wrapping my fingers around it so tight just to hang on!  I've been wrestling with issues that I never thought I'd ever have to get in the ring with and do battle.  I am shocked at myself.  I sometimes look in the mirror as if it's a strange person standing there and just giving her that "what the heck are you doing" look.  And there I am looking back not knowing where to begin to explain my actions or lack of action.  It's weird.  Holding on for dear life, looking down at the dirt below, scrambling up the fence just to get closer to the sun, or son, in my case.  Wanting to feel the warmth on my face.  Wanting to know the peace He brings.  Wondering how I got here.  Wondering how long I'll be here.  Not letting go.  Knowing that the answer lies in the climb.  Holding on for dear life.

For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 

~Matthew 6:32-33

Gone

This describes so much of my life right now.

Top 10 (In no particular order) Gone Things:

1.  My two oldest boys as they "live" and "love" in Colorado.
2.  The race I've trained for since November is over and done with.
3.  The 40 pounds I am to never see again.
4.  Any clothes that actually fit.
5.  My dreams of being "America's Next Top Model".  I think my age did for me on this one.  Hehe.
6.  The ounce of sanity I once had.  I now need to unbusy my life.  I am feeling the effects of going, going, going.
7.  My fear of dying while running a 10k.
8.  The desire to consume large amounts of food.  My appetite is quite tame now.  Amazing.
9.  The awesome cooking skills I used to have when searing a piece of meat.  Now, just average.  Oh well.
10.  The want for the next thing.  I am content where I am.  God is good.

My competitive side? NOT!

In my training for this 10k next month I have endured things unimaginable to myself.  Never did I think I could run more than 2 minutes at a time, ha!  Now we're running 50 minutes to over an hour!  Never did I think I could run UPhill.  This one makes me giggle.  Really?  Like you can't suck it up and get your booty up the hill, Shannon?  Ok, so I'm a complete weanie-head in this area.  So, my friend that is helping me train tries to find that one thing that will make me forget the pain, or lack of oxygen to my brain, that would motivate me to run the  whole hill and not just give up and walk part of it.  I realized something.  I suck at being motivated to do something that causes me pain and makes me want to puke.  Odd, isn't it?  I know I need to do this to be in the best shape possible for this race.  She has tried so hard to help me in this area.  "Just imagine if Jesus is up there at the top holding out his arms waiting for you."  Then I think, "but if its really Jesus then he will forgive my weaknesses and hug me anyway, right?  Blessed are the weak who have to walk their big ole booty up the hill.  That's biblical right?"  Needless to say, it didn't motivate me.  What does that say about me?!  Then she moved on to other tactics.  "Just picture your daughter up there needing her mother and you have to get to her in a hurry.  Come on, she needs you.  She's waiting."  You know what I did?  I let her down.  I failed.  I suck.  Yep. You guessed it, I walked part of that hill.  She literally had to get behind me and help me run by pushing me up the hill!  Holy moly!  Seriously, Shannon?  You can't even be motivated by that?  What does that say about me?!  I got to the top and she cheered me on, but all I could think about was how I let my daughter down.  How I made her wait because I was too out of breath or lazy or tired or sore to make it to her.  I cried like a freakin' baby.  WTheck?!  Then as I was wallowing in my selfish self-pity tears running down the road I stepped to the edge of the road and twisted my ankle. BOOGERS!!  Immediately in my undeserving beating up of my character God shoved me off the road with a great big, "Really?  That's where you're going with this?  It was only a scenario not the real thing!  You know you would be running on adrenaline if it were true and you would've been there in lightning speed.  Get a grip and turn it off!"

My character has been training as well during this time.  Running is definitely a mental game.  Learning how to run through certain situations no matter how painful or inconvenient it becomes is just a fact of life that I've had to work through.  Amazing how it correlates to  the rest of my life, my spiritual walk, my everyday stuff, etc.  I'm learning how to suck it up.  I'm also learning how to give myself a break, mentally.  I'm also learning that my focus must always be on the Almighty Heavenly Father who is in control of all things.

I will remain thankful everyday for the opportunities I have to run, to walk, to eat, to breathe.  Another day to continue to work in the will of God to his glory.  What will it be today, God?  How big is the hill?  Bring it on. I think.

Like wearing a dozen snuggies

I finally did it.  I honestly didn't realize I had left it undone.  Hadn't thought about it.  Hadn't really crossed my mind at the top of the to-do list.  But God is working on my character boldly and it was just there.  In front of my face the whole time.  Why had I waited so long?  Why?

I packed up her clothes today.  I actually walked into the closet where they lay on the shelves and hung on those cold plastic hangers, unworn for months.  I had to.  She was gone and was not coming back.  I grieved for a moment.  But...... life must go on.  Why was I finding this so hard to do?  You just can't hang on to her stuff any longer.  She will have no use of it where she is.  My life just moves on at this tremendously fast pace and I just hold on to the old stuff thinking it will ground me, save me, center me.  I know this is pish-posh.  I know that I will no longer have need of the memories.  I don't even know why I keep thinking of her this week.  This isn't a special week.  It's not an anniversary of sorts or even remotely important, except that I am alive.  I count my blessings each and every day that my life is granted another day from the good Lord above to do as He sees fit.  I don't always treat my days with the reverence it deserves, mostly taking them for granted until mid-morning then that spirit wells up inside of me that reminds me that breathing is a privilege given by the Almighty Father.  That song is playing in my head...."This is the air I breathe, this is the air I breathe, your holy presence, living in me...."  I worship His very presence in my life today.  Why is it so different today than yesterday?  In some weird twisted way I have come to miss her here.

You see, the woman I used to be has died.  The woman I am in Christ today is different that the one from months ago.  I stared blankly into the mounds of clothes in my closet and wondered if I could do it.  Was I ready?  Was I going to once again fail and return to who I was hiding within myself and not letting God move through me?  It had nothing to do with the weight, yet it had everything to do with the heaviness I was carrying around.  Fear of rejection because I didn't quite fit in with the crowd.  Constantly crossing my arms in front of me to hold my stomach in and my boobs up, hoping my artificial perkiness would trick them into thinking I had it all together!  Huffing and puffing at every opportunity to step it up a bit and keep up with the kids, or walk up the stairs or just sing in church.  In the moment then, I hated her or the me, I should say.  I couldn't stand the sight of her in the mirror every morning.  She made me depressed every single stinkin' day that I saw her reflection staring back at me.  I knew it was me, but I prayed every time that the reflection would be different somehow miraculously changed into the one I used to know.  She was in there and I could feel it, but I kept shoving her down deep and filling her head and her spirit with lies that the world whispered about her when they thought she couldn't hear.

The smaller version of me in my 20's had become like an old friend I once knew but never really kept up with.  I often wondered if I'd ever see her again, if she would make an appearance one day when I least expected her.  It wasn't her slender self that called to me like a siren, but it was the one who was not focused on her outside but longed for the relationship in the inside.  Real.  True. Relationship.

For some reason I had thought that I couldn't have that anymore because of how I was, overweight and pudgy and feeling slothful inside and out.  Not true. My God told me that I was "fearfully and wonderfully made" and somehow I let the world, the real one and the one in my head, tell me otherwise.  I had to tell her, the one in the mirror, to her face that I loved her.  Even now it brings tears to my eyes to know that in order to change who I had become that I had to embrace me where I was and love me, all of me.  I had to tell her that I thought she was worthy of so much more before she could leave.  I drove her to her demise.  I forced her away from myself and out into the abyss where other bad attitudes and negative behavior lives in an eternal purgatory.

My mind is free from her.  Although she was a part of me for more than half of my life I know now that she had to leave and I had to be the one to make her go.  It was scary and painful and still will be for a while.  The wounds she left behind will take a while to sift through, but with the help of God I will sort them out and pack them away as well.  I did love her, in all of her glory, but I have come to love me even more now.  The me who can see clearly that even if life pukes in my lap I must thank God for life and praise Him through every storm.  He is my one and only Redeemer.  It is only by His grace and mercy that I continue to grow and that humbles me.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I don't believe that skinny or healthy makes you better, by any means, on the spiritual front.  I do believe, that for me, I had been hiding myself from God, as if He couldn't see the real me. I was making excuses for not walking in His will because I was too large, or too out-of-shape, etc.  Like Moses begging for God to send the more eloquent Aaron.  I have lifted the veil through the mercy of God to reveal to me a new day.  One that has purpose and meaning and is not obsessed with how I would hide myself today but how I could glorify God today.  I just knew in my heart that I could not do that and still continue to torture the me I was.

Now, back to the packing.....  She's not coming back, so her stuff must go.  Goodbye friend, my comfortable friend.  I can't have you here anymore.  Where shall I send your things?

What used to scare me

Small reminders of where I've been and where I've come are daily reminders of how God moves through my life when I'm not looking.  Just a few months ago I never would've thought I could keep up this vegan lifestyle and now I can't imagine ever going back to the way I used to eat.  Not just that, but my husband has become this changed man through this process.  He has cut back to almost a total vegan lifestyle and he says he feels really good!!  Maybe I'll get him running with me too!!!  My kids are almost there, not quite, but that's ok.  They feel better and are making better choices when they're not with me of what is good to eat and not good for you.

Then the whole running thing has been a milestone in my life.  Never did I think I could keep it up!  Much less run miles at a time!  In the beginning when we were doing interval runs of 1 minute walking, 2 minutes running I thought I would die right then and there.  Two minutes running?!  Really?  Now, as the three of us embark on our 45 minute runs three times a week, we're topping 4 + miles and are amazed at how in the world we have come so far since October.  It makes that 10K seem doable now.  We're conquering the hills and clicking off the miles.  I am so in awe of how God has worked through my character these last months of changing things around in my life.  He is so good to me and my friends and family and watching him work through all of us is humbling and exciting.

I hope you will step out today and do something impossible in your eyes and watch how God works in all out for his will and his work.  May God reveal it to you softly and you grab a hold of it firmly!

Awkward (very sing-songy voice)

Sometimes I get myself into the weirdest spots.  Like last night.  Hmmmm....  what was I thinking?!  Why do I do that?  For free stuff, really?  I don't even wear a ton of jewelry, nor do I think that if I was wearing blue jeans and a ratty old t-shirt that a "90 inches of fun" would make me acceptable to the local grocery store cashier that doesn't even know how to classify popular produce.  "Is this a green pepper?"  No, that's a green apple.  Ok, a little dramatic on that one.  But do I really look more put together with my pearls crocheted around my neck with my stained clothes?  Does the bling make everyone blind to my lacking in laundry washing skills?  And is everything really "fabulous", really?  I think that's a stretch.  I love the disclaimer that it will last forever if..... you don't let any child under the age of 5 handle it while its around your neck, don't wear it in the shower (really, you have to say that?), don't mow the grass with it on, don't sweat, on purpose, in it and if you do then be sure to immediately wash it in a mild soap and rinse immediately with warm water and dry and polish with a soft cloth and place in a dark climate controlled area when not in use.  So, basically for me, just don't wear it.

I was totally blinded by the fact that I would get free stuff if I hosted a party for my friends.  Ha!  My friends saw right through the "don't wear it because it's not guaranteed if you do" clause and didn't buy enough for me to qualify for free stuff.  A night of sparkly awkwardness for what?  No free stuff.  Dang!  But, for a split second while I was modeling said jewelry I looked "absolutely fab"!!!

So, when I said last night that I would host another party, I lied.  I flat out totally lied.  I remember now why I don't do these things.  With the exception of being able to hang out with my friends and family and eat hummus, but I really don't need to sell jewelry to do that.

God just asks of me to love others, not decorate them.

Treadmills and pork rinds

I have learned the game at the YMCA or the Y as they like to be called now.  Jesus is apparently too offensive for their marketing practices.  Anyway, I do believe without a doubt that I am treadmill challenged.  The treadmill use to be my main source of exercise a few years ago at 5 in the morning and we got along fine then.  Now, its after me.  I always feel a little odd about so many of us in one area all running like gerbils in a wheel, but the treadmill takes it to a whole new level.  When I arrive at the treadmill we have a silent conversation between souls.  I say, "do me right and help me to run 5 miles and burn a bagillion calories today, sir."  He just stares back at me as if to say, "just get on and let's see where the conveyor belt lead us, shall we?"    He has no sense of humor.  My quick start has started and up goes the arrow button to kick me into a faster pace.  I had never tried to actually run on the treadmill until the other day.  I had always been so fearful of its power to launch me into the cycles behind me in some awkward spread eagle pose and totally throw Barbie off her pedaling strides.  Wouldn't want that now would we?  But this day was a new day.  One of adventure.  One of risks to be taken.  I had walked really, really fast last time while chatting it up with Liz and had not realized that I had ripped something off my hip bone until later.  My hip hurt so badly that day I thought I would have to go to rehab to learn to walk again, much less run.  With ice packs doned daily I got my nerve back up to tame the horrible beast and this time I would run!  Throwing caution to the wind I bumped him up to 4.6, yee ha, I was running on the treadmill.  I happened to glance next to me at the gazelle's treadmill and she was pushing 6.8 and you couldn't even hear her run.  How does she do it?  I sounded like a stampede of horses running through the room and the treadmill was shaking like my washer does when the load is off balance.  I kid you not, I think that machine shuffled a few inches to the right!  How does everyone else run and the dang thing not move?  I was embarrassed but I stayed the course, for one thing I was scared to death to slow down for fear of being thrown off.  Then this teeny tiny little whisp of a thing climbed on the one to my left and pumped up her speed and got to going.  I had to say a "thank you Jesus" cause she sounded like she had lead feet and I didn't feel so bad about my mobile treadmill anymore.  I will tame that awful beast one day!  I will prevail!  The best part of the YMCA is the sauna.  It lures me into the front doors knowing that just a short time later I can bask in the heat and pretend like a cabana boy is going to bring my drink shortly.  Ah, the joys of exercise...... Now, to ice my hip!

Totally off topic:
After my run OUTSIDE tonight, freezing my buns off, I had to make a trip to the grocery store.  Why do pork rinds get a middle of the floor display and gigantic signage?  And why does the cashier not know the identity of my acorn squash?  Then the navel oranges were in question... tsk, tsk, tsk...sad days at the local supermarket......

Can't fix stupid

A retired high school Physics teacher, an author, a professor of religious studies, a doctor of theology, a preacher's wife, a retired physician, a retired engineer turned high school math teacher turned professor, a doctor's widow, a retired nurse and teacher, a dentist, a minister, a retired government worker, a homeschool mom and a stonemason flooring dude.  What do all of these people have in common?  Born in the same town?  No.  Stood in line at the same coffee shoppe?  Doubtful.  How about a book discussion @ the local scholar's hangout, of course.  Duh.  That last remark is telling of my maturity level in the room.  I mean, what grown up really uses "duh" as a response anymore, right?

  Anywho, this group convenes in a college town close to me.  To drive through this town makes you feel slightly under educated.  Oddly enough, I fell in love with the pillars and the grassy areas of this college town when I was very young.  One of my earliest memories was coming here on one of our vacations to the lake house.  Oh, just to lay soles to the sidewalks made me giddy.  I loved the way you could just close your eyes and practically smell the pipe tobacco wafting from the open windows of the English department!  I wanted to live there someday.  That dream has changed.  I like to visit, but I like my internal organs and the only way I could remotely afford to live there is if I started selling off pieces of myself.

My husband and I are attending this book discussion at the invite of my mother.  Not sure yet whether to say "thank you" to her.... I'll let you know, mom.  Just kidding.  The room was filled with the heaviness of degrees upon degrees upon doctorates that attached themselves as part of the alphabet onto the backsides of each persons introductions.  The room felt like one big comfy wool sweater with a tweed sport coat.  I hung on every word that these folks seemed intent on getting across.  Never in my wildest dreams will I ever feel like speaking in the group as to the discussion of the book.  David and I have resolved to use the smile and head nods as our contributions to the discussion.  An occasional note talking or doodling when the words become to large, so I won't forget to google the definitions later, will be the extent of my participation.  Well, that, and actually reading the book.

The book is called, "The Language of God" by Francis Collins.  I am only into the book a few pages, but am very excited to crack open the spine and carve indelible ink into the margins as I go.  Francis Collins is the head of the National Institute of Health and the Human Genome Project.  He is a believer in God and Jesus Christ as his savior.  The subtitle reads, "A scientist presents evidence for belief".  Born in the Shenandoah Mountains of Va and lived most of his life in NC, he and I have trod in the same paths along the way.  That is where my comparison of my life and his ends.  I am fascinated by the book's premise and am ready to see where God has led Mr. Collins.

The first discussion is done and there will be several Sunday evenings of joking about C.S. Lewis and pondering the importance of science and faith playing nice on the playground together.  I feel certain the discussion will be lively and quite eye opening.  After all, the backgrounds are diverse, the directions in which each of us think about science and faith are as vast as the universe itself.  No, really, the Theology doctor was sitting beside the lady who said, "I pray like God is a person, but I really don't believe that, so basically I pray to the universe.  Oh, and by the way, I will just be honest, I believe in reincarnation, too."  Ok, then.  This will be awesome!  I just hope no one finds out I never actually graduated from college or I might get kicked out of class....

I am including a video of the author at a commencement speech at the University of Michigan.  It really is quite entertaining and will make you want to know more about this book by way of his sense of humor!  I hope you enjoy!  God bless.

Warning: May Cause Bruising

This concept of growing up is harrowing.  I pride myself on being a grown up with childlike tendencies.  I know when to act like a grown up, most of the time, and I know when to laugh and have fun.  But in reality no matter how hard you try you can never avoid growing up.  It requires vertical movement of time and the addition of years onto your age.  Your stature changes as you mature and click off the next mark on the door jamb with the appropriate date, which proves you have grown an inch since the last measurement.  You push your way through the educational system or out of the system and find yourself working or studying at a local university or hanging out with the peeps.  But, you're still grown up.  As this is a physical manifestation of time, what about the spiritual, mental, conceptual clicking of the secondhand?  The growing out part?

I've had the privilege and the wonder to see this new vision of growing out in my children.  I had never really thought of it that way, but that defines it much better for me.  Growing out makes the world a bit bigger.  You can grow a tree in the same small pot, but eventually it reaches it's full potential in that small pot and can no longer thrive.  It may stay green, but it will start to look weak, stop producing fruit and just become sad.  Amazing what a find you can get on the clearance rack at your local garden center because the plant "looks" dead.  All it needs is to grow out.  You have to replant from your small environment into the one you're meant to thrive.  Leaving room for roots to spread and runners to shoot off and start their own plants here and there.  Growing out. 

John 15:2

He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

It's this pruning part that brings us out of our infancy into a world full of fruit bearers and growth, reaching for the sun.  As I watch my two older boys planting roots far away from me I become an emotional mess.  On one hand I wish I were there to check up on them physically and make sure they had what they needed, pick up the slack, cook them a dinner or two.  But then the pendulum swings and a sense of wonder fills my heart with being here and watching them grow out.  Hearing how they've moved into the direction of growing out.  How each has had their own challenges to meet, decide the course, take action and stay in motion.  It brings my heart joy knowing that they desire to be in motion.  The challenges haven't grown them up too fast, and haven't squelched the desire to move, but have given them the ability to continue to grow out.  Reaching for the Son as guidance hopefully will be their goal.  

In observance of my offspring, though, I have realized that I am also still growing out.  I've lived in the illusion that once my kids were a certain age that I was pretty much an adult myself and that "growing up" or growing out was pretty much a slowed pace, almost a non existence.  But no, I digress.  This stage in my life of letting go of the parental in-house control and giving them up to the heavenly hosts to look after has been one of trepidation.  But growing out with myself and being able to see how God works in their lives is a sweet front row seat ticket!  It's that moment where your aren't dependent on your parents emotionally for growing out, but you grow out in spite of their presence.  I still grow out with my mom by my side a lot, but not because I'm dependent of her for my growth, but because she likes the view and I like having her there to lean on for support, but not life support.  

So, as the scars remain from the pruning I have experienced, they will remain for my children, as well.  But the fruit, as a result of the pruning, tastes ever so sweet and is in such abundance that the scars become a "God and me" badge, one to add to my sash of badges.  God knows what's best.  He knows where you'll thrive the best.  He knows how far away you'll be, but he knows we must continue to grow out.  And the only way out is choosing to grow out instead of just growing up.

I hope you enjoy the warmth of the sunshine, the quenching rains, the stretching of your limbs as you continue to grow out.

Hurdles and all things that make your face hit the concrete....

Ugh.  Yea.  It's pessimistic me, back again.  I have been in the midst of training, or trying to train, for this 10K that is in April.  I do like the exercise and the way I feel after!  I hate the me that I am before I run.  The one who whines all night before bed then wakes up hoping someone will call me with some great reason why I can't run today!  I bitch and moan to my husband, who lovingly and sweetly rubs my back and brings me breakfast and coffee and kisses my forehead WHILE I'm pouting and tells me he loves me.  I know when to pull out the pouting card, but he no longer buys into the rants.  Dang it!  I then go run downtown in front of everyone with the style and grace of Phyllis Diller with her cigarette.  Old Lady style, ya'll, I got that down pat!  I know the girls I run with want to shove me in front of the next garbage truck just to not hear me whine about every ailment I am suffering from this week.....  I think it actually helps them with their workout..... they start running faster and farther away from me.  That's ok, that was my plan to be by myself, I have plenty to talk about with me, that's where it all starts.

When I first started I had some most painful knee problems that were quickly remedied with the right pair of shoes!  Hey, you all must know this if you're ever going to run, get the right pair of shoes.  They will cost you a boat load and you will thank me.  Don't go to the local "shoe store" unless you know they have experience with watching your gait and analyzing how you're running and walking and can really give you what you need in a good shoe.  I mean it.  This is sooo important.

Thank goodness I then contracted "black toenail" or "training toenail".  Ick.  No one ever told me about this!  It's like having a baby and then hating every mother on earth because she lied to you or just never told you what the heck was really gonna happen!  Cruel, people, really cruel.  This sweet little runner's treat comes from pounding the ground over and over with the bottom of your foot, say, like in running.  A blister forms under your toenail and it becomes painful and bruised and will eventually fall off!  Yay!  Let's hit the street for more intervals!  Then it will take 4 to 5 months to grow back.  At least now my mind is off of the soreness of my knee and into my toenail and all of its awesomeness!

Then came the excruciatingly intense hip flexor pain.  Remember when you held that kid on your hip all day and it was really sore that night?  Try carrying two of them and running for an hour downtown!  It hurt, and is still rather sore and it ticks me off.  I need a massage.  I need acupuncture and some hot stone therapy.  And a mug of hot tea with Govi strumming in the background to make it go away.  Hey!  Don't judge me.  It might help because I haven't tried it yet and I think it sounds like great therapy!  At least now my hip pain took my mind off of my toenail.  I need a Yoga class badly......

To top it all off, I fell last week before the snow fell and sliced my hand open.  But, at least it took my mind off of my hip.... My hand is much better, but my hip is still sore!

So, as I recap here, running is awesome!  Vegans, unite!  Cooper River.... watch out!  Who's with me?!  Hoo-Rah!

I'm going to get my icepack now and cry in my pillow.  Kidding.  I am going to run the race, literally, put before me.  I can do it.  None of this will stop me.  None.

1 Corinthians 9:24-26

²⁴ Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. ²⁵ Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. ²⁶ Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.

It's not you, it's me.....

The wafting smell of a pot roast simmering in Lipton Onion Soup Mix for hours on end can send my mind to a place of love and warmth and friendship and Sunday afternoons.  The taste of homemade ice cream makes me want to put on my pinafore and run around in the church courtyard and play tag.  The sight of my friends Too-Much -Chocolate cake or the Oh-so-yummy carrot cake make me want shrill in delight.  All of these emotions evoked by the sight, smell, taste of food.  For years, I have been an emotional eater.  I'm sad and I need a chocolate cake.  I'm depressed and I need some chips.  I'm lonely and I need a plate of mashed potatoes.  I'm happy and I need to celebrate with Fettuccine Alfredo.  I don't feel anything so I must need something to eat, how about crockpot barbecue!

Food is defined at the Princeton online dictionary as "any substance that can be metabolized by an animal to give energy and build tissue; any solid substance (as opposed to liquid) that is used as a source of nourishment; "food and drink"; anything that provides mental stimulus for thinking."  I like this definition.  It defines food in a scientific manner in its inanimate effect on our bodies.  Afterall, food can't really provide anything else other than nutrition, right?  It can't function as comforter or listener, right?

However, this next definition I absolutely hate and I feel it is what motivates our obesity as a nation.  This one comes from wikipedia and as we know of wikipedia, most is made up by users and isn't necessarily correct in every situation.  The real definition of food isn't this, but as for the cultural definition of food, this one is right on the money.  "Food is any substance, composed of carbohydrates, water, fats, proteins and water, that can be eaten or drunk by animals, including humans, for nutrition or pleasure. Items considered food may be sourced from plants, animals or other categories such as fungus. ..."  So, what makes the last definition so vile, IMO?  Well, it's that one little word.  The "p" word.  Tacking on "or pleasure" in that sentence after nutrition almost cancels out nutrition altogether.  Because if it was about nutrition AND pleasure then we would take both of those words into account.  Right?  When is the last time you did not associate food with some sort of emotion, like pleasure?  "Oh my gosh, that was sooooo good!" Like it took on some sort of orgasmic experience?

I recently read an article by Victor Epand on "Endorphins and the Science of Addictions", and while he was speaking directly to the addictions children have with video games, I honestly believe that this science applies across the board to the addictive behavior we all possess.  Here is what he had to say:

"So what is meant by addiction, as far as doctors and medical practitioners are concerned? Basically, when the body or brain is engrossed in an activity, chemicals are released into the bloodstream, and quickly end up with the brain. These chemicals can make a persons' mood change quite dramatically, cheering them up, making them feel happy or good about themselves, distracted from the stresses and strains of life, and generally feeling positive and satisfied. Similar words and concepts used to describe addictions to drugs, cigarettes and alcohol. When an athlete runs or exercises hard, endorphins are released into the body and these can actually have the effect of giving the athlete a 'high', making them feel a rush of positive happiness. This can become very addictive, just as the body can become addicted to any chemical introduced to the brain which makes the brain feel good. "

This is not an uncommon science.  I am confident in saying that every doctor or health professional, western or eastern, will affirm the beliefs laid out in this article.  If you have an unhealthy lifestyle as an individual or a family and you want to become healthier, you must overcome this  habit of associating food with an emotion.  Divorce your food.  Send it a Dear John and tell it to never darken your door again!  Ok, in the emotional sense, not literal.  You cannot do without food, that is a given.  But food was never placed in your midst to become this idol of sorts that controls your life, controls your health, controls your budget, controls every aspect of your life.  

When I married and became a mom, I expected of myself to grow this gene of love of all things nurturing to my family.  I shopped.  I agonized over meal plans.  I looked for bargains.  I woke up thinking about breakfast, then tried to plan what dinner might need to be and what needed to defrost.  Then it was lunch time already and after I got everything cleaned up from that, it was time to start on dinner.  What the.....?!  I tried hard to appeal to my whole family on the pleasure they would take in every single meal and snack.  I would be heartbroken if they didn't like it.  I would be heartbroken when they did like it, but didn't reaffirm it with accolades for all my hard work I put into preparing, shopping, cleaning up after it, etc, etc, etc.  This led me right to the fridge for some comfort for myself and to the idea that deserts would pretty much make up for whatever was lacking in the dinner.  They usually forgot about what the dinner tasted like if I had a bowl of ice cream waiting for them.  Don't misunderstand me here, I can cook.  Ask my friends and my mother.  I am a damn good cook, if I might say so myself.  But, I was miserable.  My unusual obsession with fear of rejection had made it all the way to my dinner table with the people I trusted to love me more than anything!  Except food, so I thought.  I was associating being a nurturing mother with providing them emotionally stable foods, not necessarily nutritious food.  Thus, the cycle will continue with my children when they grow and leave the house, unless we break up with our food.

Since becoming a vegan a few months ago, I have had some revelations in myself that I have been able to overcome and now see in a whole new light.  It is not my intention in this post to convince anyone to become vegan, although it is an amazing lifestyle change.  No matter how you eat, carnivorous or veganism or vegetarian or pescatarian, whatever, do you eat that way emotionally?  It is, however, my intention to shed light on what kind of emphasis food plays in the life of those who have found themselves here to my blog.  Food, sent to this Earth by the Almighty Father himself, is for your nutrition.  Nutrition that gives you energy to do what God has planned for you in this life.  It's fuel for your muscles and bones and organs.  We've perverted our view of food into this elaborate production and presentation on our own dining room tables to the millions of tables around this world in restaurants.  It, food, takes up more of our time directly and indirectly!!  Think about it.  Do you plan your day around your meals?  What you'll fix or where you'll go?  What about vacations?  I mean really, why is there an ice cream place that sells a gold encrusted ice cream sundae for over $1000?  That feeds a whole different emotion for me.... anger.  Do you know how much nutrition that could provide for a family in need?  Crazy.

It's time.  It's time to have a sit down conversation with your Fridgedaire and it's contents and that of your pantry.  It's time to renegotiate your contract with food in your life, a sort of menu prenup of sorts.  Food is not meant to provide an emotional experience for me.  And when I abuse that, it makes my butt bigger and that makes me emotional and then I turn to the one things that started it in the first place.  Stop making love to your food.  Stop asking it out.  Stop letting it let you down constantly and making you feel tired, mad, bloated, etc.  God intended our bodies for use in his kingdom not the healthcare kingdom or the local gym kingdom.  When I realized that my work for Him suffered because of my unhealthy cravings for my relationship with my lunch, I decided enough was enough.  

Seriously, look at how you cook, prepare and entice your family and yourself to the table.  How about food for purpose not for pleasure?  When God sent the Israelites into the desert, He fed them.  Not something that brought them pleasure, but nutrition so that they wouldn't starve to death.  He loved them.  He loves you and finds you worthy of so much more.  The things that are in your food, if you buy processed, would shock the hell out of you if you knew how it affected your brain and thought processes.  How some are intended to depress you so that you will eat other things that will lift you up, making a vicious cycle.  How there are ingredients that are addictive, making you want for more.  Just like nicotine, baby.  That's a post for another day.

Matthew 6:25
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? "Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to to his life?