Making Progress

Green smoothie of the morning: 2 c. water, 2 c. spinach (blend). add 2 frozen bananas, 1 c. pineapple, 1 c. mango (blend again).  I poured off Joel's portion then added more pineapple to my half. 

I've been doing a daily green smoothie in the morning for the last three weeks since Joel and I participated in a 10 day eat clean challenge.  I was already part of an online accountability group for improving my health.

I've lost 16 pounds in the last 10 weeks.  I stopped indulging, cut back on drinking sweet tea, added more veggies into my diet, cut out dairy/meat/sugar/caffeine for those 10 days of the challenge, and decided it was time to do something.  Joel lost about 5 pounds on the challenge and has now lost another 5...that's 10 pounds in three weeks for him.

Doing this together makes all the difference.  We aren't on a "diet" and aren't counting calories.  We're making better choices and holding each other accountable. 

This last week, I ate the "Thanksgiving Feast" with my kids at school, ate wings on Friday night when we were out with friends, enjoyed free breakfast with my kids at Chick-fil-A, and even went out with girlfriends last night and had chocolate cake. 

This morning my weight was 1.8 pounds lighter than last Monday.

The things I described above were the indulgences.  I didn't also eat Halloween candy, cookies in the office, donuts brought in, the yummy coffee drink I thought about stopping to get, pastries at church, second helpings at meals, and the cinnamon rolls at Chick-fil-A. I chose.  It's all about choices.

I'm trying to make better ones.  For my health.  For my happiness.  For my longevity.  For my clothes to fit better. 

I looked back through my medical files on Friday.  I'm at a lower weight right now than I was after having my twins and when I got pregnant with Jett (I held that weight for 5 years). I would really like to lose 7 more.  But, I'm happy with my progress.  And, I'm most happy that I haven't done anything crazy to get to this place.  I think it's sustainable.

A Joyous Day

She is exactly 10 1/2 today.  Dates are important to me.  The 19th.  Not a date that had ever meant much to me.  I remember being 19.  It wasn't particularly exciting. 

As I approached the due date with my first child, I was excited for her to be born in the 4th month of 2004.  Those are good numbers.  She was due on the 12th.  Another great number because it's a multiple of 4.  See...my mathematical mind is always at work in quirky ways.  The 12th came and went.  Oh, the 16th...another multiple of 4.  That came and went, as well.  Even the 18th looked appealing because of the 8...you know.  Nope.  So, I was all set to be induced on the 19th.  No avoiding the seemingly odd number.

With great joy, despite the odd date, we welcomed our first child.  She was wonderful.  Beautiful.  A gift.  It wasn't until a year and a half later that I truly came to embrace the date, though.

I committed my life to Christ as a teenager and then grew in that commitment as time moved on.  As a college student I came to a point in my walk where I realized I needed to completely surrender all aspects of my life to Jesus and let Him truly lead me, even (and especially) in my relationships and dating.  I had already committed to this, but then life happened and I went to college and ....  Heartache brought me back to the foot of the cross and to the place where I would ultimately surrender my whole heart and life to Jesus.  That was January of 1998. I was broken. I gave up. I let go. 

Over the next several months the Lord opened the door for me to take part in a ministry and then even lead it.  It was a huge challenge.  I think of Gideon being called "mighty warrior" when I think of the Lord calling me to that ministry at that exact time.  The most unlikely person.  The most unqualified.  Yet, the Lord's glory is most evident when He is the only One who can get credit for the wonderful things that happen.  So it was with me leading a sexual abstinence program.  Part of the program was signing a certificate committing to purity and accountability.  I signed my certificate and my friend Heather signed it as my accountability partner during the program in the spring.

Heather was with me in the delivery room when my first child was born.  She encouraged me, prayed for me, and celebrated with me.  It was a joyous day.  About a year and a half later, Heather was visiting us from out of town.  I had been going through some old papers and found that old certificate we signed.  It was a sweet reminder of all we had walked through together and the beauty of how God keeps His promises. 

With tears, I showed Heather the certificate.  In particular, I pointed out the date.  We signed it on April 19th.  Suddenly, I realized just how amazing my God really is.  Though I hadn't picked the 19th as a great day to have a baby, God did.  My first child was born on the six year anniversary of signing the covenant to honor God with my body.  That day began the seventh year of that covenant.  The seventh year is a year of blessing.

Lev. 25:1-7

The Sabbath Year

The Lord said to Moses at Mount Sinai, “Speak to the Israelites and say to them: ‘When you enter the land I am going to give you, the land itself must observe a sabbath to the Lord. For six years sow your fields, and for six years prune your vineyards and gather their crops. But in the seventh year the land is to have a year of sabbath rest, a sabbath to the Lord. Do not sow your fields or prune your vineyards. Do not reap what grows of itself or harvest the grapes of your untended vines. The land is to have a year of rest. Whatever the land yields during the sabbath year will be food for you—for yourself, your male and female servants, and the hired worker and temporary resident who live among you, as well as for your livestock and the wild animals in your land. Whatever the land produces may be eaten.

 God is good.  All the time.  Even when we have no idea.

Today, that baby, born on the 19th, celebrated believers baptism and declared publicly that she loves Jesus, has accepted His salvation, and wants to follow Him all the days of her life.

I kinda like the number 19 now. After today, I like it even more.  What a great date!

Rejection

I recently posted on Facebook "Contemplating rejection on this summer afternoon. I think it is perhaps the largest reason for so much grief and pain. A fear of it motivates so many to pick up habits that are destructive. Even small rejections are incredibly painful. Amidst rejection, I'm trying to wrap my brain around the reality that I am not rejected by God, the Creator of the universe. But, I think many of us feel rejected even by Him, or especially by Him. Rejection is the opposite of love...it is pushing away. God has demonstrated His love reaching out, time and time again."

I got several responses and some were in agreement that they were struggling with feeling rejected that day. As I thought more and more about the topic of rejection, I began to realize how many areas of my life have been impacted by rejection lately.  

The last school year was incredibly difficult for me.  The group of students I was teaching were at a different level (overall) than the group I had taught the previous year plus it was my second year teaching and so I did a lot of adjusting . But, honestly, the students were the easiest part.  I love the kids!  I like figuring out how to help them best and meet their individual needs.  The hard part came with adults.  Everyone thinks teenage girls can be mean girls.  Adult girls can be meaner.  They are much meaner.  They are rude and hurtful and gossips.

I've had my share of mistakes.  In fact, I made a big one in the fall and then paid for it all year.  In fact, I'm still paying for it.  The problem is: I'm not really sure what the mistake was.  I thought it was one thing.  I dealt with that.  I asked to be forgiven and was granted grace. But then I found out it was perceived as something else and others were upset.  Then the gossip began and truth was distorted.  Insecurities made the truth more warped and people were unwilling to come to me.  I'm not really sure why. I guess it was considered too hard to confront me and ask.  People would rather just talk and speculate.  So, it just got worse and worse.  Finally, the year was over and I was relieved.  I was also sad.  I believe the adult junk took away from my focus on the most important aspect of my teaching--my students.  I would love to get back a slice of my time with them and do a few things over.  Oh well, there are no do-overs.

The pain of the year just got worse as I thought it was finally closing.  The pain came from another arena for the second round.  It's lasted most of the summer.  The beginnings of the rejection were incredibly painful.  I thought about it constantly and cried and just tried to wrap my brain around it all.  Then I cried some more.  Time passed and reality just settled.  I accepted it.  

Now I fear there is another rejection coming.  I really hate to say I "fear" it because when I stop and think through it, I do not fear.  I know Who loves me and who I am in Him.  I know life will move on and I will be okay even if I'm rejected.  But, there's still fear.  I do not like pain...physical or emotional.  Who does?! So, I fear it. I worry it is coming.  I've tasted a little of it and I'm worried more will pour in and overwhelm me.  I am afraid I'll be broken by it somehow. But, in reality, I know I won't.

As I stop and think about these times of rejection, I see a vision of arms just pushing out against me.  I try running to them or approaching them and they are like walls.  But, amidst all those walls of hands, I see hands overturned and reaching to me.  Waiting for me to put my hand in theirs.  Arms open for a hug, an embrace.  I will focus on those hands.  They are the ones that matter.  

They are the arms of my God, Who always welcomes me.
They are the arms of my husband, who loves me despite knowing me deeply and completely.
They are the arms of my children, who depend on me and think I'm amazing even when I've failed them.
They are the arms of my mom, who is so different from me in personality but accepts me with all my rough edges and firm stances.
They are the arms of my friends, who have walked with me and know the good and bad--the friends who haven't left me.
They are the arms of the children I teach who know nothing of the drama behind the scenes but just love when I sing and dance in class.

I will not dwell on the rejection.  I will realize that many of those who reject me feel rejected themselves.  I will walk up to the hands raised against me as a wall and say kind words, pray for the person behind the hand to be blessed and loved, and eventually I might ask them why.  But, I'm not really sure I want to expend the energy to find out all the whys.  There are just too many.