... His Law Is Love
And His Gospel Is Peace
[O Holy Night]
I am so broken right now. In such a good way, but broken nonetheless.
My last post , from two days ago, spoke a lot about what it means to actually live for Jesus. He seems to think that it's a good idea to keep on pressing this issue into me, and I agree.
This week's sermon at church was AMAZING. It was about what it means to be generous, to worship Jesus as number one and to recognize that all life is found in Him and that everything I have is from Him. Generosity is not about numbers of dollars given or hours of service logged. Generosity is about having a proper worship identity- Jesus is God, and He is love perfected and personified- and thus having a heart that serves based on this life-changing perspective.
My conviction came as Pastor Mark was speaking about giving, because last night I sat at the computer trying to manufacture a Christmas list. My sweet husband set a budget that we each get to spend on one another for Christmas, so I was trying to think of everything I want that I can get within that budget. The idea of blessing anyone else with that budget never crossed my mind. It did hit me, however, that I was frustrated because I was struggling to think of things I actually wanted enough to put them on the list, so I gave up and figured I'd give it another go-round later.
Well, then today I watched the sermon online (I am battling off a nasty cold, which Brody has / gave me, and tried to go to church Sunday but was really dizzy and nauseated and Jas had to go without me) and I was so incredibly convicted. Pastor Mark spoke of a woman (who just so happens to be his wife) who is so generous that whenever she sees someone with a need she goes and buys them what they need, and then when she sees them again she gives them those items. Listen, I rarely even notice when someone has a need because I am never looking for one.
If I am being completely honest, the reason I am not looking for other people's needs is because I have a nasty, death-causing sin called a sense of entitlement. I expect others to look for ways to love, serve, and give to me because I feel like I have had a rough life so I am owed something from everyone else. What is truly heartbreaking is that God gave me the spiritual gift of discernment, meaning that I have a supernatural ability to gain insight into people's motives, basically the real story behind their actions / words. I should also be sensitive to others' needs, but... I'm not. I'm so, so self indulged and it's sickening.
I'm tired of making excuses. Yes, I grew up poor. Yes, I was abused. But no one- no single person- owes me a damn thing! Everything I have, everything I am, all of it, it's all from God. It's not about how much God has given me in my life- rather, it's about living the abundant life with Christ. As I reflect upon my life, I see how Jesus was always so faithful to me, to minister to me and love me even when I was sinned against in the most atrocious ways. And understand- Jesus saved me. Not that in that cheesy way, that way you see it in the movies.
No.
Jesus found me, a wretched wreck, trying desperately to get everyone- anyone- to love me. I was self-righteous, thinking I deserved praise for being smart and funny and a leader and friendly. It's all BS, and it's all empty. I was miserable. Jesus introduced Himself to me, and though I still have so many issues and so much sin to be convicted of and repent from, my life is totally changed. Really, truly changed.
But... I still have so many idols. There are so many things I worship and pour my heart and life into that are absolutely not Jesus. I strive for financial security and get really angry and cornered and lash out when it's threatened. I hide from pain by being cloaked in 220 extra pounds of fat. I seek comfort and unconditional love in food. I try to earn the praises and accolades of people to convince myself that I am a person worthy of love.
The truest tragedy of this all is that all of these things make me such. A. Miserable. Wreck.
I am critical. I am judgmental. I am constantly irritated, certain that everyone else except me sucks. I nitpick my husband, hacking him to pieces with my incessant need to be right.
And trust me- constantly trying to impress everyone is EXHAUSTING.
Then there's the whole sense of entitlement, excusing the way I am because I have suffered. The greed. The way I think the entire world revolves around me. It just perpetuates all of the issues I described above.
So, today, cleaning the family's kitchen where I nanny, thinking about Jesus and generosity as I was wiping down the counter, it hit me- there is such a better way. I know the better way. I claim to be in an intimate relationship with the better way, the only way.
When I surrender to Jesus, when I give Him the reigns, I am free. I am truly happy. It's not a chore. It's not work. It's love. It's peace. It's the antithesis of self-indulgence and it's incredible.
I called my husband, told him the only two things I really want for Christmas (a tripod for our digital camera because I want to get incredible pictures of Seattle at night and use them as framed art in our home, and the Anne of Green Gables boxed set because a) I love them and b) I want to read them to my children someday) and requested ways to serve others with the rest of my Christmas budget.
You know what? I was so relieved afterward. Not because I get to "feel good". It's not about that. Anyone could give money to someone and still have an effed up life, to be blunt. There's an incredible peace, a sense of oneness, with Christ that no good feelings will ever match.
I'm still flawed, still a sinner. But I don't have to accept it and stay this way. I can stop being scared of losing control and trust that Christ's plans for me are good, and believe that He truly loves me. It's ok. It's good.
One thing- for anyone reading and thinking, "Ok, isn't this Foode Fight? As in, a weight loss blog? What does the sappy Jesus mumbo jumbo have to do with this chick getting less fat?" (or, you know, something a little nicer than that) please understand that my spiritual issues are why I am fat. Unless I deal with them I'll either stay fat, get thin and then get fat again, or get thin but have other huge issues basically ruining my life. So when I post these more intensely spiritually-themed posts, understand that they are an integral process of this food(e) fight, even if I am not specifically talking about what I ate today or what have you.
Anyway I am tired and emotionally drained. Thanks for tracking, and to those commenting and e-mailing and loving me- thank you so much. I truly pray that I will reflect Jesus Christ and be a humble encouragement.
PS In case you didn't notice it, I posted twice tonight and there is a second post below this one. Check it out!
PPS For those interested, check out Pastor Mark's sermon; it's really good!
[Mr. Jones, Counting Crows]
Something has been heavy on my mind and heart. In my last post I ended by writing about the fact that I simply can't imagine not being fat. I have always been fat- never thin, never truly fit. I definitely don't know what it would feel like to just feel normal. That said, I don't pretend that I'll ever stop dealing with body image issues.
Even if I have a miraculous result from gastric bypass (I still write that and don't fully believe it will happen for me, getting GB I mean) and lose 230 pounds and rock the scales at 130 pounds (that sounds so impossible to me), a size 6 (my dream size), I would still have body issues. The possibility of loose skin means I'd probably never have a firm stomach or thighs or arms, no matter how much fat I lose and muscle I tone. And, honestly, even if I were somehow blessed with incredible results and had a firm body, I guarantee you I would still have issues with my body. I don't like my teeth- even braces won't erase the scars of 27+ years of crazy snaggleteeth.
Besides, I'm a curvy woman. I'll have hips and thighs no matter what. My feet are too big. My face is flat when you look at my profile. My hands are HUGE. No matter what my body looks like and no matter how many pounds I lose, or what procedures are done to improve my appearance, I'll always have body issues. I've blamed my image issues on being fat (websites like these 2- number one , number two - that shred apart fat people solely for not living up to cultural standards of beauty don't help; I'll explain how I found those later in the post) and to be sure my being super morbidly obese hasn't helped me feel good about myself in life.
That said, the deal is the fact that Every. Single. Woman. I have ever known has image issues. No female is totally 100% perfectly at peace with her body. She can work on it, work on believing God that He created her and she's beautiful, she can do thousands of hours of Pilates and firm and tone but she'll wish that bit of cellulite on her thighs would just disappear, or she'll wish her nose didn't have that huge bump. You know how you can tell how a woman really feels about her body? See how she reacts when she feels it's being criticized by someone she loves and trusts... that's when buried insecurities surface.
Countless people who know me and / or read my blog have told me that my image issues certainly are severe due to my massive girth (ok, they don't use phrases like "massive girth"!) but they've also been really encouraged by my choice to be open and honest because, no matter their size, they have image issues as well. Sadly, some people on the thinner side have struggled because others who do have issues with weight make said thin people feel guilty about not constantly fighting the scales. Criticism and rejection are criticism and rejection no matter how nicely we try to package them. Our insecurities rip our female friends to shreds when we guilt trip them for not seeming to have it as bad as we do. It's honestly tragic, the way we hurt each other like this, especially women against women.
Listen, culture is culture. We all know that billboard women aren't real, but we still compare ourselves to them. How many women do you know with Gisele Bundchen's sexy Victoria's Secret body? I mean, that perfectly proportioned, big and small in all the right places, with amazing curves yet toned and with killer legs? Those women are just impossible. And you know, what does it really get you to have that body? We want that body, but does anyone really need a body like hers? I know my standards aren't the cultural norm, but who needs to see women in bikinis frolicking around? And do we really need to go to the beach and have a super sexy body so that everyone will look at us? What does that do for anyone, anyway?
I'm so grateful for my pastor's most recent sermon series, especially this last Sunday's sermon. The series is about the Song of Solomon, a book in the Bible basically describing a passionate relationship between a man and a wife who are surrendered to God. What's beautiful is that this woman, whose name we don't know, doesn't fit the cultural standards of beauty. She came from a poor family and thus worked outside and had dark skin, not "sexy" in a culture that treasures pale skin. From Solomon's descriptions, we are led to believe that his sweet wife had a very large nose- again, not traditionally sexy.
What I find beautiful is that Solomon again and again builds up his wife, telling her how incredibly beautiful she is. It doesn't matter that she wouldn't grace the cover of Vogue in today's world. She is his standard of beauty, and his goal is not to make her over into Gisele Bundchen- instead, he is in awe of her beauty just as she is and he consistently tells her this, thus building up her confidence to just be herself, to be comfortable in her own skin. We see him reminding her over and over that she's beautiful- he doesn't assume that telling her one time will do the trick. That is so incredibly beautiful and truly what every woman wants and needs to hear.
As a caveat, you know what awesome thing happens as a result? The Peasant Princess, as we have named her in the sermon series, is built up enough to be able to become visually available (read: comfortable being seen naked) to her husband. This leads to not only incredible sex (yes! It's in the Bible!) but deeper intimacy in their marriage in general. What is truly beautiful to me is that I have seen this happen in my own life- my husband is incredible and always tells me how beautiful I am. I am his standard of beauty, whatever I look like. At a size 28 I am the most beautiful woman in the world to him; he doesn't even compare current me to the possible future me that could result from gastric bypass. He reminds me that, though he's willing to work hard so we can afford to get braces for my teeth and we plan to do as much as possible to help me be comfortable with myself (clothes, make-up, professional hair treatment, whatever makes me feel beautiful), he still just loves me right now as I am.
This is incredible. Despite the emotional pain from how I have been treated by others- and how I treat myself- I am completely comfortable in my very obese skin with my husband. The way the world sees me and how I see myself not so much, but I know that Jason loves me even at 357 pounds. I don't know why, or how he's able to not constantly compare me to the barrage of sexy, thin women culture inundates him with. Truly, it's Jesus. It's grace. I only know that I am safe- completely safe- in my husband's care and it means the world to me. I wish every woman could know what this feels like.
Something I'm working on is being better about how I speak of other women and their bodies. I know people who are a size 8 who are post-baby and struggle with their body because they're having an incredibly hard time getting back to the size 4 they were pre-baby. Most of us who struggle with obesity condescendingly make remarks like, "I wish that were my problem." Like I said earlier, I also know petite women who struggle with the burden of criticism from women who do struggle with their weight, always being told, essentially, "Well, you aren't fat so can't imagine how painful it is to have body image issues." Um, HELLO, body image issues go FAR beyond being fat or thin. I try to be real with my friends, to tell them they are beautiful, but not to base my approval rating of them (even inadvertently) on their current body shape.
Ok, one last thing- those websites I linked to earlier. I promise I wasn't feeling self-deprecating and searching for mean hating-on-the-fatties sites. I was reading another blog that links to mine and it's on Wordpress so if you hover over my blog's link this snap shot deal pops up- the good thing is it shows the first few lines of my most recent posts. The bummer is that there are sponsored ads with words representing topics that some advertiser apparently thinks apply to my blog, and if you click on the words it brings up a page with other websites related to that topic. So, one of the phrases said advertiser apparently thinks apply to Foode Fight showed up as "fat people". Lovely. But I clicked the link, saw those two sites, and was appalled.
There are people are so insecure and desperate to be loved that they go on anonymous sites to pour out vitriol aimed at fat people. Specific fat people, all fatties in general, etc. And then there was the other site, pictures of fat people posted so that less-fat people can mock them and feel a little better about themselves. Honestly, it's so tragic. I know not everyone shares my worldview, but I pray for the people who spend time on those websites because they are so, so desperate for redemption and love found only in Jesus.
On this note I need to wrap up. You can look forward to a post later this week about some forthcoming HUGE changes to my diet... it's very simple. My husband has a severe dermatological disorder (read: extremely painful rash) that was misdiagnosed as psoriasis for the last 8 years. Today we found out that it's a rather extreme reaction to gluten. Our entire menu has to completely change, and gluten free can be frugal but it's rough. So, look forward to more on that. And maybe some stuff between now and then. For now, I am exhausted. Hasta, chicos.
PS I have nothing against Gisele Bundchen. I'm not ripping on her for having a sexy body. It is tragic that she uses her body basically to make herself a lot of money and perpetuate the objectification of women in our culture as sex objects, but at the end of the day I would want her to meet Jesus and find true value and worth in life every bit as much as I would my own female friend or mother or some random "average" gal down the street.
My intent is not to hypocritically beat up on Ms. Bundchen for having a sexy body- my only point is that any of us buying into the idea that her body is the ideal for everyone else is wrong. And for anyone with a slamming body like hers- well, that's awesome for that woman's husband but what good has it done for women or men to have culture try and dictate to us all what a standard of beauty is? I firmly believe this issue tears marriages to shreds because men have porn addictions and/or they gaze (read: lust) after hot women in passing and their wives feel- this is a harsh word, but so true; I apologize to my G-readers in advance- shitty about themselves, which leads to either clinginess or retreat; both are manipulative and the husband in turn looks to other women sexually for fulfillment. Even if he never "cheats" there is still a huge wedge in the marriage.
A much, much better way would be if men- hardwired to be very visual- were NOT constantly bombarded with half naked women everywhere they look. Then they could do a better job at keeping their wife as their standard of beauty; in turn the wife's standard of beauty would be not in the latest Victoria's Secret campaign ads but in how her husband sees her, and she'd be able to believe that, for him, she is the most beautiful woman in the world and that's all that truly matters. In Christ this is fully possible, it just sucks that even Jesus-loving men are hit so hard with images of Gisele in a barely-there bikini when they are watching football, images that their mind struggles to erase, and women battle incessantly with often vicious body image issues as a result of how culture has reduced them to their looks. I know I'm on a soapbox, but it's tearing our marriages and families apart long before any vows are ever exchanged between two people.
Ok, I'm actually going to bed now. 'Night.
[Light On, David Cook]
First, David Cook finally released his first single! (Listen to it here.) Upon initial listen I was a little mixed up on whether I liked it or not, but after the second and subsequent listens I was hooked. So that's happy.
In other news, I am sorry. I have been all but dead on here for two weeks, and I promised myself this morning that I would make time to write today. I could give you all 56 excuses, but none are really any good, so I'll just refrain.
Overall, the last two weeks have been a 6.5 out of 10. Eating has been decent (though this last weekend was bad because we were both busy and tired and my back has been really bad for the last week and a half) but exercise has been nil. I finally conceded to Jason (and myself) Monday afternoon that I just have to get over the pain and go to water aerobics because if pain keeps me away then I'll never go. That's just my life right now, and it sucks, but if I use it as an excuse then I'll just get fatter and fatter until I burst at the seams. Ok, not really, but it will feel like it.
In this vein (the pain vein? Seriously? Shoot me now!) I decided that today I was going for a walk, no matter what, and then V, the father of the boy I nanny, said that it might be cool to take the Brodster for a walk today because they were outside for a few minutes this morning and the little dude was beyond delighted. It was actually perfect walking weather (in my opinion): 60 degrees and cloudy. I forced myself to take a route that kept me far from the house, swallowing my pride when my back started spasming and sitting on people's cement stairs that spill out onto the public sidewalk, and walked for a full 30 minutes! I only sat down three times- about 45 seconds the first two times and only about 20 the last time. It started to rain heavily just as we got home, so I felt like that was God's way of saying, "Nicely done, Tam. I won't even rain on you!". Maybe not, but it was nice to avoid the averse weather.
Anyway, things are going well. I was pretty convicted in Sunday's sermon (about SEX! Woo-hoo! I'm embedding the video in the bottom of this post) that my body is not just mine to steward for my own purposes, but to honor my husband. Jason has always loved me just where I am, and has never pressured me to lose weight. That said, we had an honest discussion after the sermon about how we can be more attractive to one another, both physically and with our character / personality, and one issue he pointed out is that I really take no (good) pride in my appearance, and seem to just not care... which is true. I don't care, because I don't like how I look. I hate to have pictures taken of myself, hate that no clothes fit, and hate the way I look in the few clothing items that do fit. He was gently honest and said that he'll always love me no matter what size I am, but that our sex life would be far better if I were a more active size, and he's right. I respect him for being so honest with me, and I'm blessed by the fact that he's so awesome.
So, we're planning to try in the upcoming months to take one another shopping, where he picks out some items that look hot on me and I pick out some items that look hot on him. And as I am really working on viewing God as a loving Father, I'm starting to find joy in obedience because of how it honors both God as Father and Jason as my husband. I'm not perfect, nor all the way there yet, but I've begun to realize how good it feels to be freed up from laws and stringent rules, and to take care of myself because I love my God, I love my husband, and I love myself for who the Lord knit me together to be.
I promise to keep you all updated better! Just as I am a roller coaster person often with regards to weight and spiritual issues, full of high-highs and loooooow-lows, I seem to either update every day on here or once a week. I need a happier medium!
I need to get back to biz, but I'm putting out a shameless request for comments! I've missed you all! And seriously- check out the sermon. It's awesome- it's not haughty-taughty prudish Christian talk about sex (I'm not sure Mark Driscoll has ever been called a prude!) nor is it grotesquely tasteless perversion. It was AWESOME and I can't wait for this Sunday for the next sermon in the series! Love ya, kids.
-T
**Note: I added the story to the end that I forgot! And, I meant to give a shout-out to Colleen for really encouraging me to try Weight Watchers-- I'm excited to figure out the finances so I can start!**
[Take A Bow, Rihanna]
Things are going much better today. My dentist appt wasn't so bad- basically, they referred me out to an oral surgeon and said that unless the abscess gets all huge and nasty that I can wait it out a few weeks. Jas' UPS job has MUCH better dental benefits (and, really, better benefits over all) and I am active on there I think the 19th so I'm going to wait to get the surgery until then. I'm not totally clear on it, but I think we will get the entire thing covered at 100%, which would be HUGE for us.
Re: the dentist and my teeth... I was shocked. Completely shocked. So here's the thing-- my mouth is too small and my teeth are all sorts of messed up... mostly just that my canines are up above / below the rest of my teeth (the top is worse than the bottom) and then the set directly next to my two front teeth are forced behind the rest. I knew I needed braces in school but we just couldn't afford them. As a result of hating my crooked teeth I have always taken kind of shoddy care of my teeth- I only brush once a day, whenever I shower (and I can't lie- if I'm around the house all day and not going anywhere and don't shower I sometimes don't brush my teeth at all), and I never floss. I try to floss but it's such a bloody mess, and my gums throb, and my teeth are so tightly packed that just forcing the little bit of floss through feels like I just had braces tightened, so I just give up. Plus, we used this super-defense Listerine and it made my teeth really yellow and even stained two of them. Add all of this to ten years of not going to the dentist and I expected to get majorly reamed and chewed out... and to hear that I had like 12 cavities.
Instead, the dentist said over and over (seriously, like 5 or 6 times, always sounding increasingly shocked), what amazingly great teeth I have and how lucky I am. I only had one tiny cavity, and no decay otherwise. She didn't even chew me out for not flossing. Also, x-rays showed that I have really, really deep roots (seriously- there was the tooth itself and then like 6-8 times that size in the length of my roots- I had no idea!) and she said that if I take care of them I'll have a very small chance of ever losing them. Also, she really encouraged me about getting braces and I think that once we're out of this dark hour financially (probably a year or two) we'll look at getting on that for me because my teeth now cause me a lot of pain (cutting up the inside of my mouth and such) and I'm just really, really self-conscious about them. I know this will sound silly, but to me bad teeth are a sign of poverty, of being a hick, and what with my idolism of financial security I get antsy about things that make me look low-class (this is one reason my weight bothers me, because I classicize it into a "poor people" problem).
Anyway, the dentist wasn't so bad. On the money front, Jas is pretty sure we'll be ok through October, though, sadly, no awesome birthday gifts for me :( He's really pursuing options and has a second interview for a job doing IT stuff tomorrow, and then a friend of ours sent his resume and glowing recommendations to recruiters for contract work with Microsoft (where he would really like to end up). The way it works at MS is that most people start out with a contract company, usually 12 months, and you work for Microsoft but through the agency. Then, if you prove yourself, most people can get hired by MS; it's really hard to get hired outright with no contract work first, though. Plus, even these low-level jobs will replace and possibly exceed his pool income so it's all good.
I think it's directly connected to feeling less under the throes of PMS, but I know we'll be ok. Sunday's sermon was PERFECTLY what I needed to hear; seriously, I felt like Pastor Mark read my entry from Saturday night and was preaching only for me. I still don't trust God as Father and I view everything that doesn't go according to my plan as punishment. I need to ask God to get me through this, just as Jesus did in John 17, knowing He was about to go to Gethsemane and through all that would culminate in His death on the cross. I know the Lord is drawing us near, to help us to trust Him and to stop worrying and relying so heavily on ourselves, and I have so far to go, but I'm honestly grateful for the test because it reminds me that God hasn't given up on me.
I will still seek whatever sort of counsel I can find at church, but I'm also going to try and figure out a way to join Weight Watchers. Right now even $20 is a lot (this reminds me of a story I'll tell at the end) so until Jason gets a new job it's out of the question, but I know that meeting people who live near me and can literally walk through this with me will be such an encouragement to spur me on. The accountability and facing the scales every week will really help, and so I'm going to pursue that as soon as the money is there. Though I just looked it up and it's a flat $40 a month with no registration fees and there's a meeting I could easily go to after water aerobics on Fridays so maybe I'll talk to Jas and figure out how to swing it. I'll eat cheaper food if I have to- I need to do this. So I'll see what we can work out.
Beyond that, my back is hurting (still, I know! Which is a bummer but it's life) and I'm feeling sleepy. But I wanted you all to be up to date on how I'm doing!
I love you all!
Special Addition:
Jason, you already know this but now the world can, too: this last year has been the best of my life. I faced some of the darkest hours and hardest times to endure, yet I know I was able to get through it because of Jesus and because He brought me you. May we only continue to grow, and I am continually honored to be your wife.
EDIT: Added story! Sorry that I forgot it!
Today Jason and I went to brunch at a sweet restaurant we saw on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives (we love Guy Fieri!) and afterward we had to go pick out a shirt & tie for J's interview tomorrow-- all of his nice clothes are from before he lost 75 pounds, so I basically put my foot down and made him get them :) I'll take pictures of the outfit on him sometime because he looks HOT! Anyway, we popped into Target to get toothpaste, and on the way out I found a dollar bill. I seriously hooped and hollered and danced like I had just found $100! It was so funny and Jas couldn't stop laughing at my crazy antics. Seriously- is this a sign of our financial woes? Does everyone get excited when they find a dollar? Because I was seriously ELATED!
[Where I Stood, Missy Higgins]
I feel so good that I worked out this morning. I still love water aerobics! That's a good thing since it will be my main exercise for awhile. Finances and my back acting up have led Jas and I to wait until at least October to start personal training. I want to do it, but I am also worried that it's too much, too soon... I should prove that I can stick with water aerobics for at least a month before we spend another $150 on start-up costs and then $150 a month on training sessions for a year. Plus, with my back acting up, I just get nervous about making big financial commitments. So, we shall see.
In other news, I almost died driving home from LA Fitness today. It was rather ironic- I was really annoyed with people on the streets. First, I was waiting to turn left and some lady who clearly had no idea where she was sat in the median turn-lane on the perpendicular street, perfectly in front of me, thus blocking me from turning, for a full 10 seconds (a lifetime in the driving world) because she didn't know what to do. Then, some guy not using one of the GAZILLION crosswalks on E Green Lake Way literally meandered about in the road, super slow, because apparently oncoming traffic is of no concern to him. I was annoyed and had just prayed, "Lord, help me to stop thinking people suck", because I recognized that I was not being gracious in the least bit, when I noticed the guy behind me was talking on his cell phone using a "hands free" device- one of those wired ear pieces you plug into your phone with a microphone built into the cord. Those microphones always suck, and he was holding his up to his mouth.... totally rendering the "hands free" part worthless.
As an aside, here: as of June it became illegal to talk on the cell while driving without a hands free device... I wonder where this guy would fall under the law. Technically he had a hands free device but he was still using his hands. Regardless of the letter of the law the spirit is that people will focus on driving and be less distracted by talking. As you'll see, it sure didn't help in this case.
So, soon after my prayer to not think everyone on the road- pedestrian or driver- sucks, I turned on my blinker to turn left. After a few hundred feet I stopped at my turn, because there was oncoming traffic and the road is only two lanes wide. I looked in my rearview mirror and didn't even have time to scream because the guy behind me, still talking on his phone, was fidgeting with the wire and didn't realize I had stopped. My heart threw up in that moment, because I drive the Ghettro (ghetto + '91 Geo Metro = Ghettro) and he was in a big Volvo station wagon going 40 mph. The oncoming car was way too close for me to try and gun it across to the left, so I really just had to sit there and watch him speeding toward me. All within a split second he realized I was stopped and driving the Ghettro actually saved my life, or at least my general health, because it's so tiny that he was able to swerve around me to the right. There's no way he could have stopped, and I had nowhere to go, so had I even a Civic or slightly larger car and he not had room or had there been a cyclist it would have been horrible and I'd probably be in the hospital right now, because if he hit me it probably would have sent me into the oncoming traffic and there were like 3 cars coming. Scary. And seriously- this all happened within no more than 1 full second- that's how close it was. My heart rate didn't slow down for a good five minutes, and I was so grateful for the miss part of the near miss that I couldn't even be mad at the guy. Praise Jesus for the Ghettro (I never thought I'd actually say that!)
Oy vey.
This reminds me of a funny story, because when driving (or when I'm with my husband and he's driving) anytime another driver does something I don't like- be it stupid or no- I say, "IDiot!", with varying levels of force. I don't even have to actually be upset, everyone is just an idiot. Jas told me that Pastor Mark used to do the same thing, but then when his kids got to be a few years old and talking he started noticing that whenever the family was driving somewhere he'd hear choruses of, "IDiot!", from the back seat. He quickly repented, since that's not really the best way to model the love of Christ to your children. I suppose I should stop, too, but I haven't so every time I say it Jason will bust up laughing. Fancy.
Beyond that, I haven't had my quiet time yet (I need to go shower first; I like to have my QT while in my cozy bathrobe and with my towel still on my head) and I need to do some shopping plans-- we finally can go to Costco and stock up on stuff! We have like 10 Q-Tips left, need basically all laundry stuffs, on and on. We like to buy our meat in bulk there and then plan meals based mostly on that, buying the produce and such each week, usually from Trader Joe's. We have like 1 chicken breast in the freezer and not much else, so it will be good to get back into our rhythm, but in order to not overspend or under prepare I need to have a list made, which will take some time.
I was given a mini-food pro by T (the wife/mother in the family I nanny for) so I decided to use it to chop up our garlic so it would just be ready for use when I cook.
Note: A trick I learned from my beloved Becca (which I believe she learned from Rachael Ray) for getting the garlic out of its wrapping is to set a big knife on top of the clove, flat, and then, while holding the knife carefully in place with one hand (I use my right), pop the heel of your other hand onto the knife. It slightly crushes the glove but the skin comes right off- 'tis FANtastic!
I put all of the peeled garlic and a few TB of olive oil into the food pro and...
... ended up with paste instead of chopped garlic. I was just pulsing on low, so I'm not sure how to get the garlic in small chunks without paste. It still tasted totally awesome and rocked the flavor of my spaghetti sauce, despite the odd consistency.
A stroke of genius hit when I was cleaning out the garlic paste from the food pro bowl, so I added a stick of butter to about 2 TB of the paste and some parsley to create an AMAZING garlic butter for toast and such. It made seriously awesome toast-- I just put some- a little under a TB- on a slice of whole wheat bread, popped 'er under the broiler and voila! delicious garlic bread :)
Onto the actual spaghetti-- I started with a TB of olive oil in the pan, because this is extra-lean ground turkey and it needed some sort of fat to cook in. I added one of my favorite spice blends- a touch of coriander and cumin, a pinch of sea salt, lots of fresh cracked black pepper, and a big dose o' parsley flakes. Sometimes I do oregano in spaghetti but it's so average to do oregano in "Italian" food so I didn't this time.
Once the meat was done I put in about 3/4 of a red onion and quartered and chunked zucchini-- so festive! Sometimes I add various peppers but our budget wasn't affording us the luxury this month.
We LOVE these noodles- and they're so healthy! Plus, TJ's makes good EV olive oil. We normally buy TJ's sauce, too, but Safeway had a buy one get one free sale on Classico, thus that's what we used this time. I'm normally a garlic girl, but Jas picked this and it was still good 'n tasty.
After the veg were able to cook a bit- maybe 3 minutes- I added the sauce and reduced the heat to low, for about 5 minutes while the noodles finished cooking.
Once the noodles were finito I tossed them in and this was the final product- I love how the zucchini adds such color and just perks up this dish. Plus, we split this into four servings (750 cal per serving, which is perfect for our daily caloric needs right now), which meant a whole zucchini per serving, which was really filling. It's way more fun than a side salad... I'm not big on side salads. I'm a single dish kind of girl when possible, so I try to get as much as I can into the main dish, like I did with adding zukes and spinach to our pizza (which I'm pretty sure we're doing again tonight!). When I do salad I just put protein (meats, nuts, eggs, etc) straight into the salad. Some may not do things this way, but it works for me and Jas doesn't mind.
So that was our yummy dinner Wednesday and Thursday nights. As a bonus I'm sharing a few things I bought this morning after water aerobics since there is a Ross Dress For Less right across the highway from my gym. I'm thrifty and don't care if my stuff is from Ross or Pottery Barn so long as it was reasonably priced, solid quality, and looks good.
I bought these pillows to add a "pop" of color to the otherwise understated couch. You can't see it, but this red coordinates really well with our chair; plus, they compliment the guitar in the corner well. Also, I like mixing the combo of the muted microsuede in the loveseat and the almost metallic sheen of the pillows.
The only bummer is the ugly ottoman peeking out down in the bottom right corner- we will replace that, I just didn't find anything I liked today. I'll keep looking. I did find FANTASTIC chairs in a style I love- high backed with simple, modern lines (similar to this but without the weird artsy thing connecting the legs, slightly boxier and covered entirely in chocolate brown microsuede) that would have perfectly matched our decor and the general design theme I have in my mind for the direction our home's "look". Too bad they were $80 each even at Ross. Such is life.
Last but not least I bought this as a new gym bag. You can sort of see my other one to the right, the pink / gray Adidas bag; it's just a simple drawstring deal and not very big, so it's tough to get in my huge, cozy towel and extra clothes, plus I can't put in tennis shoes so if I ever decide to do any other workout at the gym I have to carry them and I always end up forgetting them (I wear my Crocs to wat aer because I go already in my pool outfit with a hoodie over the top, so all I have to do is take off the hoodie and Crocs and I'm good to go).
Anyway, this is actually luggage so it's really sturdy with great pockets and it will double as an overnight bag when we go on short trips- my only luggage are two huge Samsonite suitcases, which aren't exactly conducive to one nighters or group weekends! Plus, it's totally roomie and cute... I like that it doesn't look like every other plain black bag, which can get confusing in a room full of naked women with their gym bags open and about. I'll tell funny naked lady stories in some other post.
Anyway, this is actually luggage so it's really sturdy with great pockets and it will double as an overnight bag when we go on short trips- my only luggage are two huge Samsonite suitcases, which aren't exactly conducive to one nighters or group weekends! Plus, it's totally roomie and cute... I like that it doesn't look like every other plain black bag, which can get confusing in a room full of naked women with their gym bags open and about. I'll tell funny naked lady stories in some other post.
A'ight... I should go shower now and get about my day. Have a fabulous weekend!
... I'm an open book instead.
[Broken, Lifehouse]
After so many weeks of rarely posting, suddenly I'm bursting at the seams with things I want to write about. From themes re: church to how Jesus is changing me to political thoughts (trust me, not what you expect) to music and singing to insecurity... all of these things occur to me as things I want to write about and then during the day little things add to what I want to say.
For today, I'ma speak about insecurity. I touched on it some in my post about high school and the lingering effects of surviving it from earlier this week. It didn't really encapsulate all that I've been mentally chewing on for the last few weeks so I'll hit the whole theme up on here.
It would be easier to say this is just about what other people think, but that's not the whole truth. The only reason we (I) worry about what other people think is because we want to be thought of in certain ways and our obsession with what others are thinking directly correlates to the insecurity that they might not think of us the way we want to be thought of. This is especially true when we know that who/what/how we want to be doesn't line up with who/what/how we actually are. As a result we get caught up in whether or not others are aware of this gap. The root of it all is the insecurity that, due to the gap, we're lacking as a person and won't get the love/respect/power/attention/compensation/notoriety/fame-- pick your poison[s]-- we yearn for.
People have various things that make them tick- mine is just generally wanting to be thought well of, to be desired. I want to be needed. I choked out friendships when I was younger because I was so desperate to be each friend's favorite that I would alternately jealously smother them and indifferently abandon them for someone more worthy of my time.
I'm glad to say I don't do that anymore, but I still definitely want everyone to see me as someone awesome that they are really glad to know. I've come a long way as far as just being an authentically real, raw, and open person without worrying about how I'll be received. I've embraced the reality that some people will like me better than others, and I've let go of some friendships. I always want to hold onto people from my past and somehow maintain today what we had way back when, and I tend to feel hurt when I detect people not wanting to hold onto my friendship in the same way. I'd like to think I'm so wonderful that they can't let go of me... but in the last couple of years I've come to realize that some relationships remain steadfast throughout the years, some ebb and flow, and others just continually fade and that's ok.
Being so obese definitely affects my perception of myself, and I anticipate what others must think of me when they meet me, though it's a very recent thing. This whole weight loss / surrender of sin journey has really amped up my sensitivity. I've always been overweight and as such carried an awareness of what that might mean to others, but I've grown increasingly sensitive in the last year. A lot of it is connected to Mars Hill-- somehow I get this perception about what everyone there must be like based solely on the general physical appearance of people at church and I assume that I am thought of in a certain (read: negative) way.
A lot of people at church are young, hip, totally cute, and generally skinny and fit. To be fair, we go to the 7pm service, with a ton of college students (we're close to a few colleges, namely the U'Dub), but when we were 11am'ers most were still young and even the couples with kids primarily had infants and toddlers. I'm certain the main demographic at MHC is people in their twenties based solely on what I've seen (which, hello, we are in our twenties so... makes sense). Thus, I assume that everyone is not only completely aware of me and my obesity but that they are disgusted by it.
A few weeks ago Pastor Mark was preaching on the Lord's prayer, and when he got to the part about "give us this day our daily bread" he made a point that for the majority of us, our issue is not need of bread- it's obesity, because we've got mega-stockpiles of food and would still be chubby in six months even if the apocalypse came. If you follow the link to the video he hits that point from about 32:00 to 33:08. He was totally right and not being rude or anything, yet I immediately turned bright red because the whole room kind of chuckled when he said it and I was certain everyone around was staring right at me. I was excruciatingly self-aware in that moment.
After an eternity (ok, not really, but you know that feeling) I realized there was another guy not too far away from me who was a pretty big boy and he kept talking to his friend next to him in a way that was meant to look casual yet by his mannerisms and painfully conspicuous body language was merely a decoy for his own certainty that everyone was silently pointing at him. It hit me that maybe- just maybe- not everyone is as continually aware of my size as I am.
Plus, Pastor Mark's preaching is pointed enough that every person in the room who is sensitive to the Holy Spirit constantly feels like he's preaching directly to them. The likelihood is that everyone's minds drifted to their large quantities of food crowding their pantries, fridges, and cupboards and their own body and weight issues, be they what I consider "fit" or no.
Therein lies my point- we're all insecure in one way or another. We deal with it differently, and it's manifest in myriad ways from person to person, but everyone is constantly wrestling their own issues with who/what/how they are and if others perceive them the way they want to be... the aforementioned gap is very powerful and real.
I have been legitimately judged by people since moving to Seattle (here and here are some examples... I just reread both posts and ouch) but interestingly enough neither of those times were even in Seattle proper, let alone at church. I've experienced nothing but grace and encouragement from the amazing people I've met at Mars Hill, so it's rather cruel of me to project a mean and ugly spirit onto them.
The bottom line is still that my identity is not in what other's think of me- I've said it before (too lazy to go find a post) but I'll say it again and again-- my spiritual issues are merely manifest in this obese body. If my identity isn't in who Jesus Christ has made me to be- a blood-bought, reborn, daughter of the King whose purpose is to know, love, and live for Him no matter what anyone else does- then even if I lose the weight I'll still be completely screwed up. That's the hardest part of this journey-- mere willpower won't change my heart. Only surrendering the idols of food and comfort and replacing them with Jesus will bring about the change my soul is so desperate for.
[It Ends Tonight, The All-American Rejects]
Ok, bonus post. There's a grand entry about tacosagna below that I posted a few hours ago, but there are a lot of thoughts crushing me under their weight, so I'm going to spill it out and hope there's some semblance of a post that resonates with others.
I've been reading Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. So far I really like it... I can deeply identify with him on this journey he's been through called life, and how he's related to God and tried to figure out this crazy universe. One part that really resonated with me was a section where he wrote about realizing how incredibly selfish he was, and how everything he thought, said, and did was always directly connected to somehow benefiting him.
Ouch. That is me. I've been stung in recent weeks with a growing realization:
I am a jerk.
Seriously, I'm a jerk. I am incredibly mean. My husband will even look at me sometimes, as if there's this strange alien woman with medusa hair sitting next to him. I just say horrible things about people- and even worse, I say a frighteningly small fraction of how much I think about other people.
Let's talk irony here- I'm likely the fattest person that most who know me have actually met face to face. Come on- 350 pounds is HUGE. And yet today, while seeing what people from my past are on Facebook, I found myself thinking horrific thoughts about others. Here are some:
"Wow, so her Facebook profile pic is a scanned pic from high school? She graduated 10 years ago. Hello, loser.""Hahaha! She got really fat!""Um... if that's what someone's face looks like they really should not make their profile pic a close up. Eek.""Uh, wow... that is not a cute baby. I'm not sure I'd post pics on here if my baby looked like that. She does look like her mother, though...""They're still married? Dang. Good thing I didn't have money riding on that one."
And on and on. I'm ashamed to put them on here, because now you can see how truly ugly I can be. It's kind of humiliating. I can say that I asked Father God to help me to stop being such a judgmental jerk and He answered my prayer. But it got me to thinking... I'm not always that jerkish. What set me off to be so repugnant? The heart is the wellspring of life, and there was a reason that everything spewing from mine was vile and repulsive.
It was only after an amazing conversation with my incredible husband that it caught up to me and stared me down, like a high schooler who just smoked a doobie eyeing a bag of Cheetos-- something happened last night that has me reeling with insecurity and my way of responding is to beat down others, mentally, in some effort to feel ok with my own life.
How [swallow the bile creeping up my esophagus] unbelievably high school.
The incident last night isn't one I am ready to talk about yet. It involves issues from my church from college, and I just can't write about that until I know I can write something I won't ever regret or want to erase. Not easy when it regards a situation I praise God for getting me out of yet people I love and respect are still either in or connected to the mess. It's just too sticky, and I'm not yet willing to risk relationships by saying things that so easily separate friends. So, for now, I will leave it at that.
I can say that it really annoys me that high school still has the ability to eat at me from time to time. High school was rough- I was always too fat, too poor, too smart, too loud, too desperate for love, and, eventually, too into Jesus to be one of the cool kids. I, of course, could never settle for having amazing friends who weren't the popular crowd. I had faux relationships with the cool kids yet without blinking I would gossip and betray my real friends, all in hopes that I'd finally get "in". As a result, I got to hang out with the cool kids but I was never really one of them.
In retrospect, I truly am grateful. I'm glad I was fat, because were I not I likely would have dated the wrong guys and given away my body like it was a piece of gum- you lie and say you don't have any so you can't possibly share if the person doesn't have the social capital for it to matter, but if it's someone with enough value on the popularity status stock market then you always share whenever they ask. I mean, let's be honest- if their stock is high enough and forecasts suggest it will continue to grow, then you intentionally bust out your big ol' pack of gum in their presence, intending to share it long before they ever ask for some. I don't doubt that my pack of gum would have emptied quickly in my efforts for acceptance. Instead, I was fat, the equivalent of offering someone a lutefisk and lindberger cheese sandwich when they ask if you have any minty-flavored gum... no worries about emptying the pack on that one.
I'm glad I was poor, because I had to work and earn everything I had, and I never took anything for granted. I know what it's like to pay for something with food stamps as a teen picking up the bare essentials at the store for my parents while the middle-class popular girl smirks and mocks with her eyes- and then with her mouth back at school. It wasn't easy, but it taught me that material goods don't make a good person, and I learned humility in abundance. It was what spurred me on from a young age to get good grades and go to a good college. I have never regretted that for a moment-- moving away from home and going to college got me to where I am today. Plus, when I was teaching with TFA in NC my kids knew I wasn't just another white girl who had life spoon fed to her from a silver platter-- I worked hard and earned the life I was living. As a result I was able to reach them in a way that many others couldn't.
Speaking of, I'm glad I was too smart. I've been blessed with a capacity to learn and absorb information in a way that many struggling kids would do almost anything for. I don't have to be ashamed of being smart. I wish I never helped other people cheat (again, that social capital system bit me right on the arse) and that I didn't at times get overly puffed up with pride at getting the best grade the majority of the time. However, I don't regret doing well in school or being the best at something. I like having educated conversations with people about issues more important than what a whacked out person Britney seems to be. I like having conversations that, to me, actually matter.
I'm glad that I was too loud. Yeah, I laughed a lot. Yeah, my laugh is loud. And yeah, I was hounded mercilessly for it- damn you, Joey Sisson and Kevin Stabenfeldt- but I'm a generally happy and bubbly person with a huge heart. I wouldn't trade my optimistic disposition for petty pessimism any day of the week. Sure, in high school I laughed louder than I needed to at times, but I didn't have much going for me and I sought attention in the desperate hope that someone- anyone- would see me for who I was and simply love me for that.
It's likely the toughest one, but I'm glad I was desperate for love. My home life was rough, and I kept looking for someone to finally allow me to discover what it felt like to be loved- truly loved. It was good for me to yearn for love, because it's what sent me straight into the waiting arms of Perfect Love- God the Father, His slain Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit who allowed this love to be manifest to me as a sinner.
It led to much mockery, but I am completely grateful for being too into Jesus-- anyone who actually knows Him understands that there is no such thing. From time to time I miss that girl, the innocent new Christian telling her classmates that Jesus was changing her and could change them, too. I remember once, sitting on the baseball bleachers and talking to a friend who had gone down a path of drinking and drugs and sneaking out and lying to his parents, asking him why he did those things, because I knew his parents, how strict they were-- wasn't he worried they'd catch him? . I'll never forget his reply, as it's haunted me for years and I've prayed for him though I haven't seen him since the day we graduated. "Sometimes," he almost whispered, his eyes unfocused and staring into a torture I couldn't see, "I wish they would."
What spoke to me was all that he didn't say. He was arguably the most popular and sought after guy in our entire class (ok, of 36... but small towns can be more harsh than huge schools!) and here he was, telling me without telling me, that he was miserable and the "cool kid" life looked a lot better from the outside than it ever actually was when you were living it. It would seem easy enough that he could just stop, but... anyone who ever went to public high school, particularly in a tiny town where no one is anonymous, knows that he really couldn't.
As a Senior, I quit trying to be popular. I split my time between inviting the cool kids to youth group and hanging out with the kids from youth group, mostly Freshmen and Sophomores, and not even cool kids in their own grades to boot. And I was perfectly ok with it- we had Jesus in common (or, at least, at the time so it seemed) and there wasn't pressure to measure up to some standard. We just were. I stepped into leadership positions, found my niche for teaching, and grew comfortable in my own skin, despite how fat and poor and smart and loud and desperately in love with Jesus that skin happened to be.
I graduated, went to college, and never looked back. Today I still face my haunts- weight issues usually leading the pack- but this is me. I still wouldn't trade lives with anyone (though I wouldn't whine if I got to look and sing like Carrie Underwood... but I wouldn't be country. Ew.) and I keep growing.
I'm not pretending to be totally well adjusted and positively perfect. Every now and then something from high school or related to it will bug me. A few years ago I came across a (different) popular guy from my high school class on MySpace (ick, I know... oh, Facebook, how loyal I am to thee), and he accepted. He was new and had six friends in the days of a mandatory Top 8. Translation: my face showed up on his friends list and he didn't have enough friends to hide the fact that we were MySpace pals. He deleted me a few days later and never replied to my message asking if there was a mistake. It burned- I had grown so much, come so far, there I was working with impoverished students and seeing lives change on a daily basis-- making the world a better place, dammit!-- and I felt completely hurtled back into reliving the emotions I felt as a rejected 15 year old who had to wear his plain white (read: unable to be traced back to him) practice football jersey to school on Fridays while the hot girl in my class wore the one screaming his name and number in huge white iron-ons. Even though I asked first and he said yes to me, as if it were no big deal and he didn't mind people knowing he actually talked to me.
Then, there are the times I want to get thin and fit and have my husband get fabulously wealthy with a gaggle of gorgeous offspring so that I can go back to a reunion and be like, "Oh, I'm so sorry that you got fat and your kids are bratty ADD vacuums sucking the youth right out of you... I'm sure living in Republic totally makes up for it though," all the while thinking, "Suck it, bit**es." Ok, not that dramatic, but you get it. I just want to prove that I won't always be the fat poor girl who never had a boyfriend.
Just typing this out has been somewhat therapeutic. Sure, my readers are aghast in horror, because none of you are ever like that, but sorting out my insecurities ala high school actually reminds me that I'm unbelievably happy and blessed exactly where I am. My relationship with the Trinitarian God is growing and his is more real and tangible than ever before, I'm married to a man that I daily praise Jesus for, because I still am in awe that he's my husband, I have amazing friends, go to the most incredible church in the world, and I'm constantly growing and changing and leaving behind the childish things and embracing the woman I continually become.
Yes, sometimes I get insecure and am a jerk. But when I rely on Jesus I get a little less jerky every day because I'm reminded that I'm securely in the arms of Jesus, and who I am is a beloved daughter of the King and Creator of everything that exists. Not too shabby. There is no joy in realizing that people from high school are miserable losers- be they bit**es still or no, they are in desperate need of a relationship with Jesus and I'm a vile sinner regardless. My time is far better spent praying for them and living out a life of surrender to Jesus so that they might know Him and continue the cycle of making Him known.
Alas, in closing, a letter to my high school self.
Dear Tami,
For starters, girl, I love you. You are wonderful just as you are. Really- you've got some balls, sister. Who does a scholarly report on Jesus and His impact on the world for her senior project and is actually taken somewhat seriously by people who have more faith in beer? Nicely done. And those speeches in your class with the kids too popular for you about abortion while they talk about fashion? Thass how we roll? Aight. Niiiiice. (People talk like that now. Ok... white people don't... shouldn't... but you get my drift.) Seriously, though, you're not as insecure as you think.
In other news, keep following Jesus. Quit worrying so much about boys. You end up marrying an amazing man who treasures you and cares for you and shows you love you've never even imagined. And no, it's not Tim, nor the guy you'll waste time pining for in college- so why don't you worry less about being an awful person for having crushes-- because no other girl in the history of the world has ever done that and been a devoted follower of Jesus-- and focus on actually getting to know Jesus by praying and reading the Bible. He's not nearly as concerned with your crushes as you think. You're missing out on a lot of unconditional love because you keep stifling it with the condition that it be from a boy-- trust me, baby, wait for a MAN. Love Jesus alone until then. You won't regret it.
As for all of those people at school who torture you for not being like them and then beat you down when you try- just let it go. Be who you are. As you mature you'll realize that transformation into a more solid follower of Jesus kicks the ass of conforming to the patterns of this world and those people you keep trying to impress basically exit your life the day you graduate high school. No, really-- you get an entirely awesome and different life when you move out of Republic! So Hallmark movie, but so true. Oh, and yeah- we say "ass" now. We really like that word. We're pretty sure you can love Jesus and say ass, but if the Holy Spirit vetoes that one you'll get another letter, for clarity.
Finally, my beloved, we are still fat. As in really fat. It's kind of ruining our life. So could you please start actually thinking about what you're eating? Quit sneaking so much food when you work shifts at Eich's. It's not Christlike, and you're stealing (translation: SINNING), anyway. And when you get to college- model your food choices after the normal sized girls on your hall and not the O-Line for the football team, ya think? And exercise at the fitness center because we really hate to work out and believe me, never again will such a sweet gym exist free of charge and in such killer proximity. I'm just saying- when you get on your exercise kick during Jan term of our Junior year at Whitworth (did I forget? We go there. So quit trying to impress people with talk of east-coast-ivory-bs. We spend time on the East coast and all we do is miss the PNW.) don't stop! That would really solve a lot of our problems. You're a prisoner in your own body, sweet girl, and it completely sucks. Changing it is a lot harder than you might think, so maybe we could just work on it when were young and 130 pounds lighter.
All in all, life is good, Tami. Sometimes I miss you, but you'll never regret growing into me. Jesus remains faithful. Oh, but do us both a favor- look up some sermons by a guy named Mark Driscoll. They'll do us lots of good if we get on board now.
Love,
Tami
PS You will regret buying a horrible yellow vest and oversized cerulean blue shirt at Costco. You look like a fat circus clown. Buy some jeans or something, no? But enjoy shopping at the GAP- if you don't get real about the weight thing then you'll never be able to shop there again. Bummer, I know. That's what I'm talking about.
PPS We end up living in Seattle! Don't get too depressed when you live in Spokane. There's a light at the end of that tunnel, girl!
PPPS We still talk WAAAY too much. I'd tell you to work on it, but it would be pointless.
;)
So after much thought, I finally have reached some level of revelation as to my issues with eating. There are many things that caused me to turn to food- abuse, loneliness, escapism- but when all is said and done I know Jesus, have for ten years, and I love Him. He died to free me from the chains of sin and death, and food is meant to be a blessing from Him and not an idol I worship in place of Him. I have no excuse to keep loving food and comfort more than Jesus Christ.
If you are a reader of my blog you've known that I have been wrestling with why I don't love Jesus as #1 when I continually go back to comfort- food and laziness. Two things have really shed light on why I am continually struggling.
First, one of my pastor's, Mark Driscoll, said something really striking on Sunday during his sermon at church. The irony is that it was something that probably just jumped right past most people because it's not an uncommon theme in Christianity, but it hit me right in the gut. I honestly can't even remember what he said directly before or directly after because I was stuck for a moment, ruminating on the truth that I have known for years, yet never truly known. What he said was this:
"Repent of your sin, receive forgiveness from Jesus Christ, and..."Like I said, I can't remember what came next. I'll have to get the sermon on iTunes later and listen to it again, since it was a really good one (they all are). But I honestly feel that God audibly said to me, "You have not received forgiveness, Tami". I've repented, or turned from the sin, and made the choice to desire Jesus as my first and foremost love, but I've refused His forgiveness.
When I shared this with my husband, he very simply stated, "You can't receive Jesus' forgiveness because you won't forgive yourself." And he was right. Normally I avoid that whole "love yourself so you can love others" mantra, because the entire reason I tend to hurt others and sin against them is because I love myself more than anyone else. That's called human nature. I could get on a rant about "self-esteem" here, but I won't because it will detract from the beauty of what Christ is doing in me. But the fact is, in this situation, I am angry with myself for not dealing with my problems and hiding in food (more on that in point numero deux... yeah, I mix languages. You like it.) and I feel like forgiving myself is letting me off the hook too easily, so instead I punish myself with more food and less exercise the second I feel even remotely down about anything.
Since I refuse to forgive myself, I won't receive Jesus' forgiveness. A key word here is receive- He has forgiven me. He hung on the cross, seeing me stuff my face to avoid hurt even as He stood next to me with a bloody and broken body to free me from the chains. He endured the darkness of separation from God while seeing my most shameful moments of rejecting Him. He died AS me and in turn it was as if He Himself committed my sins... and He forgave me, taking the penalty to restore my relationship with God. He made me righteous by His righteousness. I know this, and I do love Jesus. He has changed me and made my life meaningful just for knowing Him. My eyes tear up as I write these words, because He's not just the happy guy in the sky- He's my Avenger, my Disciplinarian, my true Soulmate, the Lover of my soul, my Best Friend, my Daddy, everything. I adore my husband, but he will never for a second compare to Jesus, and I love him even more because he would never want to. So I have been forgiven. Ten years ago- nearly to the day, being that it was in May of 1998- my eyes were opened and I received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.
But with all of that said, in this particular area of eating/laziness/comfort/etc I have tried to repent without actually receiving the forgiveness of Jesus Christ. I am raw as I write this, because I still haven't done it yet. I hate it when people talk about their struggles, but only in the past tense- "I used to really struggle with anger, but then Jesus changed me and I'm great now"... only "used to" was last week. Drives me crazy. My desire is to be real in the moment, as I am learning, so that when Christ has the victory it's genuine and authentic to those involved in my life because they see my humanity and not just how "good" I am because I "used to" struggle. And in this area, I haven't received forgiveness. I'm not even sure I know how.
I wish a simple prayer would be it, but I know I have to continue praying, seeking God's word, and really letting Him dig deep in me to get to the root of this issue and yank it out. If I tried the pat answer it would be like a dentist removing a rotten molar but leaving parts of the root impacted into the jaw- eventually it will heal over on top but eventually it would swell and look disgusting, likely rotting into the jaw and causing far worse problems than the original toothache.
So that's the first part... secondly, we are doing a[n amazing] study in our community group called How People Change. At first I was unimpressed, but it's incredible- learning to really live out a life of intimacy with Jesus so that it affects every part of you. One thing touched on this week is how people deal with the heat in their life. Heat can be from God, from our sin, simply from circumstances, but it's the stuff that makes life messy and the heart is to explore how we respond to it. There were different ways- blame, anger, becoming a victim (whiner), etc- but the one that hit home for me is escapism.
I don't deal with things. I've shared with people the torrid details of parts of my tragic childhood and I think what disturbs them the most is not even what happened to me, but the detached, unaffected way in which I talk about it. It's like I am talking about someone else, or a sad movie I saw once. Only, in reality, if I were talking about someone else- or even a movie- I'd likely be far more involved emotionally in what happened. I mentioned this once before but I didn't make the connection that food/comfort is an escape for me. I can think I have faced everything in my life, but in reality I lived it once and don't want to live it again. I learned from a very young age that no one was going to help me but me, and I found love and acceptance in food. I hid there. I didn't feel so poor when I could eat as much as I wanted, and on some deep, instinctual level I wouldn't feel attractive if I kept eating because eventually I'd quit being attractive.
To this day I absolutely cannot believe that a man would find me attractive. My husband mentions having to punch people out for looking at me and I always think he's high on something because no man would find me attractive. And you see, I want to be beautiful. I want women and men to see a picture of me and think, "Wow, she's gorgeous". But I do not want to be sexually attractive. Understand- the average man who undresses women with his eyes is a pervert and needs to repent and surrender to Jesus and put all of that sexual energy into his wife, and if he doesn't have one he needs to get one. Some people disagree, but I will never apologize for having that stance. That said, my sexuality and the way I viewed sexuality in men was so tainted from childhood- having been sexually abused by 5 different men, including my father and other men I was supposed to be able to trust to love, care for, and protect me- that I feared being found sexually attractive.
Not only has food helped me avoid being (or at least feeling) sexually attractive, but it has satisfied desires as well. Face it- food is good. It's pleasurable and desirable and all around good. And when you eat without boundaries you can get carried away by the pleasure of it and not have to think or feel anything else but the goodness of the food. Same with laziness- exercise honestly does feel good when you do it long enough to get the rewards (endorphins, satisfaction with meeting goals you've set, etc) but it also really sucks. It can be painful, it's exhausting, and it's hard. Getting lost in Facebook, the Sims2, SATC reruns, a great show (LOST, Dexter, The Office, etc) is easier, and, again, it feels good. I can escape with very little required of me- emotionally, physically, spiritually- and just numb myself to everything. This started due to painful events as a child but I find myself doing it now just because I don't want to clean the kitchen.
So... lack of receiving Jesus' forgiveness and escape. That's a lot of junk built up to protect myself and digging through it takes time, energy, and emotional investment. But I am grateful that, at this time, the Lord has chosen to begin the process of digging in and changing me. I am incredibly blessed by being part of a church that will never settle for less than real change in my heart, so that Jesus is my only God. I want to be different, I want to be complete, and I want to love Jesus with my whole heart and not merely the sections I've partitioned into "here's what you can have, Jesus" while guarding those I refuse to surrender with food and escape. The process is only beginning, but I know I am changing and the pounds are coming off as further reminders that not only do I not have to stay the chained up 367 pound slave to sin, but that I am already no longer her.
I won't be perfect tomorrow, but it sure feels good to be different today.
So I think I've formulated my thoughts for this post about as much as they'll formulate. Usually things just flow more once I start writing. I warn you that it's going to likely be incredibly long, but deeply heartfelt, so if you don't have 5 or so solid minutes (based on average reading speeds) then you might want to come back when you have a little more time. That would mean a lot to me, because this one's going to be a doozy and I'd rather you get the full effect than just skim it or get overwhelmed by paragraph 7 and skip the rest.
I have to pause here and point out that at the beginning of last night's post I said that I'd type a short one. Short and sweet, actually. And then it was a long rambling nothingness post. Perhaps that's why no one left any comments... not that it really merited any, anyway.
On to what's been on my mind... I started this blog because I reached the point where I knew my life had to change. I won't lie to you- I have sometimes dreamed that this blog would follow me losing 220 pounds and I'd get all sexy and hot and Hollywood bigwigs scouring the internet would be instantly charmed by my snarky wit and engaging banter, and they'd of course sic the paparazzi on me and begin penning my life story in which Drew Barrymore would don a fatsuit, lose it throughout the film, and as a result win her first Academy Award. Well, I just made most of that up, but I did have flitting thoughts of grandeur, I won't lie. But, really, I started this blog for the right reasons- I knew deep down that my life needed to change in a big way, or else I would follow in the footsteps of an aunt I can't even remember and die of a massive coronary failure at 42. Part of that change includes the accountability of baring my soul and putting it out there for others.
I thought at first that my blog should be totally anonymous, so while I show my face in early pics I never intended to use my real name or even point many real friends to it. But then I realized that if others could actually help me, they needed to be people unafraid to call me to the carpet and actually support me, as opposed to coddling me. Thus, the others began to trickle in. These ubiquitous others began just as close family and friends... then, I found directories of other people with similar weight loss journeys, so I began building up my very own online community. All of this has been incredible, and really good. I can relate to what people write, and it helps me when I realize that pretty much everyone else struggles with their eating when they're off their routine (namely, weekends), lots of people still have to force themselves to get out of the kitchen, and almost everyone still has to make themselves work out.
Despite this base I have found, I've felt for a few weeks that something is just off. I had to do my whole reboot two weeks ago, and then had an amazing week... and then a mostly cruddy week. I keep trying to stay with the program (I'm not on an actual program... I just mean in the generic sense) and then I just... don't. This weekend was a bunch of blah moments. Granted, at the peak of PMS I have to fight feelings of utter hopelessness, which is so irritating because I am so the opposite of a hopeless person. I can't even think of a quippy simile for you as to how unhopeless (double negatives = awesome and you know it) of a person I am, normally. So it's incredibly frustrating to have to literally wage war against my own body when I least have the ability to summon up any gumption to do so. In those moments when I need to be "breathing murderous thoughts" against my hormones they are the very thing rendering me helpless (at least it feels that way), which in turn leads to the hopelessness. So what do I do, usually? Stuff my face. Because eating a half of a loaf of banana bread with 200 calories of milk always (read: never) makes me feel better.
Ugh. It so freaking sucks. Yeah, I know I sound like I'm 12. But sometimes blunt and uncreative is the most striking verbage of all.
You may be asking yourself if the purpose of this post is to whine and feel sorry for myself.
No. Actually, I'm realizing that I'll never win this battle, so instead of feeling sorry for myself I am just giving up. Who cares if I can never sit in good Mariner's seats? The bleachers aren't so bad. Who cares if I can never buy cute clothes and I'm always self-conscious? It's better than this constant battle everyday. It's exhausting. Better to just be numb and not beat myself up mentally over not working out. Being fat may not be easy, but it was actually a whole lot easier than this constant war over food and thoughts and exercise and emotions and issues and wounds has been. So, now you have it. I quit.
Ok, not really. That's utterly untrue. The fact remains, this is a LOT of work, and it's worth the battle. But it is extremely exhausting and I keep expecting myself to get perfect. I also expect to miraculously not have to struggle anymore, for it all to get so easy.
Nope.
This all ties together, I promise. Part of the battle being so tough stems from the fact that I've allowed myself to get a little off focus. It's amazing what one good week on the scale will do to me- I lost 5 pounds last week (25 times what I lost the week before), and suddenly all I could think about was how great I was doing (despite having a mediocre week at best... I am so bad about working out... rather, not working out) and how if I just lost five pounds every week I'd be so thin in no time, and maybe a goal weight of 120 to look like Ali from The Biggest Loser, though I hope I'm not as stuck on myself and obnoxious as her (I still find her annoying, I don't care how good she looks) is totally realistic... and then, while I thought these things all the time, I worked out once (Saturday, and at an intensity of 5 out of 10) and ate with only minimal self-control.
So stupid! But I just felt miserable and couldn't figure out what my problem was. How could such a great week do anything other than inspire me to step up the intensity and do even better? The answer seemed elusive and I had pretty much resigned myself to going back to the old me, losing .2 pounds a week.
This all ties together, I promise. Part of the battle being so tough stems from the fact that I've allowed myself to get a little off focus. It's amazing what one good week on the scale will do to me- I lost 5 pounds last week (25 times what I lost the week before), and suddenly all I could think about was how great I was doing (despite having a mediocre week at best... I am so bad about working out... rather, not working out) and how if I just lost five pounds every week I'd be so thin in no time, and maybe a goal weight of 120 to look like Ali from The Biggest Loser, though I hope I'm not as stuck on myself and obnoxious as her (I still find her annoying, I don't care how good she looks) is totally realistic... and then, while I thought these things all the time, I worked out once (Saturday, and at an intensity of 5 out of 10) and ate with only minimal self-control.
So stupid! But I just felt miserable and couldn't figure out what my problem was. How could such a great week do anything other than inspire me to step up the intensity and do even better? The answer seemed elusive and I had pretty much resigned myself to going back to the old me, losing .2 pounds a week.
Then, yesterday at church, Pastor Mark preached about mankind (yep, women too) being created in God's image. It was the most incredible thing when he talked about the fact that we don't have to be victims. Being hurt is not an excuse to cling to that hurt and reject God. Most profound of all was that I was reminded of a truth that I often deny- my body is a gift, and I am to steward it. The heart issue here is that I finally began this journey not merely to lose weight, but to truly surrender to Jesus. I turn to food because it is an idol. It brings comfort. I love food and sitting on my arse (another great word) and the way they make me feel... or rather, numb me so I don't feel... more than I love Jesus. I find satisfaction in food and laziness that I don't allow myself to find in Jesus. Really, I don't give Him the opportunity to reveal it to me, and He's not going to force it on me.
The problem here is that for 26 years (well, ok, more like 20, since I can't remember how I felt about food from ages 0-6) I lived this way and mostly felt ok. Becoming a Christian at 16 brought on issues of conscience, in that I knew gluttony and sloth were sins, but only recently has the Lord really brought all of this to the surface in a way that it must be dealt with. And, really, it must be dealt with. It's why I am so miserable- I know there is something more, actual intimacy with Jesus that I have never known, but it's just beyond my grasp and I keep trying to reach out for it but then I realize my hands are tightly clenching a half-loaf of banana bread in my left and a glass of milk in my right and declaring that what my left hand holds is far better than than the Bread of Life and the right hand has something infinitely more satisfying than the Living Water. Like a petulant child I proclaim reality to God, certain that I know best.
Can I point out there that this reminds me of a section from Where the Red Fern Grows?
Actually, yes. Yes I can. I am writing, you are reading, I can say what I want. Take that.
So in the book the author describes a very simple method of catching a raccoon- you put something shiny, like a piece of scrap metal, at the bottom of a container with a small opening. The raccoon will reach in for the shiny object, but then realize that it can't get its fist out with the object in its hand. It must let the object go if it wants to move on, but raccoons won't do that. The shiny object is so desirable to them that they simply hold onto it, often until they starve to death or until a kid with his hunting dogs comes along and captures it (does that still happen? The book's pretty old. But raccoons are crazy nasty animals... don't let the cute ringed eyes fool you). Isn't the raccoon so stupid? I mean, really, a piece of scrap metal? A shiny piece of crap is enough to cause them to die or get killed? Seriously. Idiotic.
Sadly, I am that raccoon. I cling to my food addiction, my absolute laziness regarding working out, and I convince myself that the shiny piece of crap that looks interesting but adds zero value to my life is worth dying over. Food is wonderful, but it's a gift from God meant to be enjoyed to His glory and not to the glory of my stomach. I realized yesterday that I am off track because not only do I allow food and laziness to be the shrines to my idol of Comfort but I cling to my past hurt as an excuse to do so.
I was hand knit in my mother's womb in the image of God Himself. As the one created, I have no right to cling to my hurts or to excuse bad behavior because I was wounded. I am not a victim. I am a woman created by God in His image for the purpose of displaying His glory. I have the awesome responsibility of reflecting God's image into a wounded and broken world. God is the object, and I am the mirror. Sin shattered the mirror into a million little pieces, but as Christ changes me He puts those pieces back together and I am able, with more and more surface area, to reflect God's glory to those around me. The issue is that Christ is to the point where the next pieces that need to be melded back onto the mirror are those regarding my idol of Comfort (food and laziness) and until I surrender no other pieces can be added. If I try to stay here the existing mirror will become dulled and gray, the reflection of Jesus will be marred. I really have no choice but to surrender, and I have to stop fighting it.
This hits on the blog, at least somewhat, because I've found myself getting so caught up in the numbers of people reading every day, and linking to me from their sites, that I have neglected to look at my heart. Almost every other blog is all about the numbers regarding weight loss, be it pounds lost, steps walked, calories consumed, inches carved off, with a side dish of personal life and maybe a dessert of the issues regarding why the person got fat. I find that there are blogs of people losing half their body and they have book deals and thousands of readers, and those types of blogs never mention Jesus, though a blind reference speaks to not caring for evangelical types. And you know, not to be too relativistic, (I hate relativism. I prefer Truth.) that's fine for them.
But that can't be my blog. I can't leave out Jesus. He is the center of all that I am and if I deny that then I'm just going to remain a broken mirror with no purpose, clenching the banana bread and whining about how miserable I am. Or, the most horrifying option, I will lose 200 pounds and even possibly gain notoriety and money and never even realize that I've compromised my Spirit in the process. I'll have a hot body and an empty soul. Sure, a nice body is hot but so is hell. If I start living my life in such a way that I am all that matters and Jesus gets the boot from my priority list then I really need to examine myself and question whether He actually is my Savior. If He's not then I'm headed straight for hell and a sexy body will never- NEVER- be more valuable than spending eternity with Jesus.
Don't get me wrong- I love Jesus. I know that He has saved me from my sin and eternal punishment for that sin, and I have zero doubt that I belong to Him and nothing- nothing- can remove me from His grasp. But my point is that if I were to stop focusing on Him I would have to doubt my certainty. The very fact that He grabbed my attention yesterday and allowed me to finally, clearly, face the idol of Comfort (which is a much bigger issue than just the food, which had been my primary focus) is evidence that He is continually changing me. The idol of Comfort, capital C because it has replaced the Lord God in many areas of my life, must become comfort- little c because it's in the context of a life centered around Jesus Christ, enjoyed within Bible-based living but not my master.
To bring it all home, now, I have to be real about Jesus. For some, they may read this and determine this blog is a waste of their time and they're never coming back. Others may go delete me from their blogroll. Yet others will be inspired by my desire to tackle these tough issues but they'll consider me weak and clearly not enlightened or educated enough to realize that religion is a farce. To the third faction, I agree- religion is an absolute farce. Relationship with Jesus Christ, however, is the reason for which every single human being is created. All of us- All. Of. Us. - are leading lives void of purpose and meaning unless Jesus Christ is the center. It doesn't matter if you think He's a figment of man's imagination or if you have believed yourself to love Him with your whole heart for decades- if He is not the center of your life, around which all else orbits within a Biblically contextualized existence then you are wasting your life.
I, for one, cannot waste anymore of my life. And, beloved reader if you are still reading, know that I am weak. I will struggle. I will look back at this very post and either feel jaded and despise that I was, at one point, this able to face up to my sin, or I'll think I have figured so much out and I'll be back to a place where I have to deconstruct and reboot again. But this I know- food will never truly satisfy me. All of the Sex and the City reruns in the world will never leave me feeling filled up with purpose. Losing weight will never satisfy me. Being a famous writer with a hot body and the freedom to hang out in coffee shops and blog while somehow able to afford a modest house (read: $500,000) in Seattle will not satisfy me. Being able to reach every single goal, and realizing every single dream I have, once I'm trim and fit won't satisfy me.
Nothing. Will. Ever. Satisfy. Me.
Except Jesus. Actual, wonderful, powerful, avengeful, graceful, merciful, King Jesus. Ok, so it's avenging, but avengeful just worked better. Never mind the whole it's not actually a word bit. But Jesus Christ can- and will- satisfy me.
Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him. (Psalm 34:8)
He only needs the chance. I am choosing to allow Him the chance, but this isn't even of me- I came face to face with Jesus, and I realized that my mirror cannot stop here. I cannot remain this broken of a reflection of Him. I yearn for more of Him, and I simply cannot stay the same.
My blog will still be real. It will (hopefully) still be funny. I'm not going to become the awkward fake lady with the plastered on smile with the smiley faced white guy in the sky Jesus hanging from her soccermomvan rearview mirror. I can't be her, and not only because I don't have kids. Or a van. Or like soccer. But I have to keep things centered on why I am on this journey, because there are plenty of hot chicks in this world but far too few truly godly women who genuinely love Jesus Christ and allow Him to be reflected, fully, to the world with every aspect of their being.
If I lose readers, so be it. If this blog were written for me and me alone and one person reads it and is inspired to live for Jesus then glory be to God. But I've never been one to settle for the least I can get and I won't allow my blog to become a mush garden of crap where I spout verses and sit on my Jesus-made-me-higher-than-you-all perch. I'll just be real, be about Jesus, and, I hope, get a body that changes along with my spirit in the process. Hopefully others will be inspired, but I can't write merely because I'm trying to meet Drew Barrymore on the red carpet when she gets an Oscar for portraying my horrid self pigging out on banana bread (what IS it with banana bread? I mean, really?). Regardless, I won't change, but just know that I'm gonna have to talk about Jesus. Not every single sentence, or even blog post, but I won't stray away from Him in order to try and attract more readers.
Enough said about that.
Finally, tomorrow's a day of fasting and prayer for my church so I am fasting not only from food but also from the internet. Even if it kills me I won't be checking in until Wednesday. Until then, feel free to tell me what you think of this entry. Or disown me. Either is cool.
Author
- Tami
- Seattle, WA, United States
- Post-college, mid-20's, early-marriage, pre-house, pre-kids.
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