Archive for the The Journey Category

I love good days. Good days are like rainbows—they refresh and renew, delight and inspire. On good days I can run and laugh and smile and make stupid jokes nobody laughs at. Yesterday was a very good day. And then there was…

Today.

Today I feel like all the Mondays of the whole year joined forces and morphed into the biggest, stinkiest, ugliest Monday there ever was. (It’s Thursday by the way) That’s what dealing with chronic depression/pain is like. Every day has the ability to be a Monday.

The grody Monday Monster isn’t satisfied unless it wallops me completely. Which is how I found myself laying on the floor of my cubicle moaning. (okay, that didn’t actually happen but it felt that way) I realize I should have done something inspiring like read an encouraging scripture passage, pray, or walk the stairs to get my adrenaline pumping. Instead I went to lunch with a friend and complained.

You can’t see me but I’m shaking my head. Epic failure.

Now I know what you’re thinking… (bet you didn’t know I’m a Swami, did you? Wish you could see me wriggling my eyebrows to evoke an air of mystery).

“Margaret, we all need to vent. Just go on and let it all out there. Air those feelings. Feel them and then exhale them. The more you let them out the better you’ll feel.”

That looks good on paper but in practice it’s terrible. Because the moment we start droning on about what’s wrong with our lives, the more we infect others with our misery. Also, complaining elicits bad advice from people who can’t solve your problem—which only compounds the problem and makes you and the person frustrated when you reject their advice. About half-way through my gripe-fest I realized how impossible I was behaving and began talking about things I am grateful for. My friend said, “Look at you! Way to turn it around!” And then I smiled and we parted ways, and I wept.

I wish “venting” helped. It doesn’t. I wish being grateful helped. It doesn’t. Sometimes the big stinky Monday Monster wins and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Now that I’ve spilled the milk and cried over it…

It’s time for ice cream.

And cookies.

And, rats. Wait a minute. If I give in to food lust I’ll be depressed AND fat. If I’m fat I’ll feel even worse because I’ll have to go shopping for new clothes(and I loathe shopping). And if I have to buy new clothes I’ll have to spend money I don’t have, which means going into debt, etc. etc.

Geez. Is there any winning against the Monday Monster of Madness?

These are the thoughts I wrestle with every day I feel like a gutter sludge-sickle.

But guess what? There’s hope!

When the Monday Monster starts slurping and slobbering all over my wimpy resolve, I remember that I still have a few secret weapons in my arsenal. One of them is…

Humor

I was doing crunches the other morning(that’s abdominal work for all you non-workout folks). I like crunches because they make me feel like Jillian Michaels(until I stand up). While I’m on the mat crunching away I’m thinking, “Margaret, you are so rocking this ab workout. You are STRONG. You are MIGHTY. You are too awesome for words.” And then after my workout I was walking through my house and realized my belly was swaying side to side, and not in the most flattering of ways.

When one loses an immense amount of weight, the skin does not return to its smooth and youthful vigor. It sags. It lumps. It curdles like cottage cheese. Which is why I started crunching in the first place. I thought ab work would eliminate the wobbly belly. Nope. Surprise, surprise! The television commercials all lie!

But instead of moping about because of the jiggly belly, I realized that some people will never experience the free flowing gladness of misshapen tummy trembles. Sadly, they will go through life slender and sleek, convinced that the six pack ab look is the penultimate achievement in physical perfection. They will hear the cry of their stomach and endure agony upon torturous hunger pang all the while missing out on the blessed, billowing belly of bliss.

And for some reason that struck me as both sad and incredibly funny. So I began walking around my house trying to perfect what I now call, “The Trendy Tummy Sway”. And my children were dutifully horrified and I was pleasantly proud. Because it takes a special gait and body type to perfect, and I–my friends–am now the ultimate TTS master.

So today when the Monday Monster started snacking on my resolve today, instead of eating ice cream, I decided to demonstrate the Trendy Tummy Sway in public. I strutted down corridors and aisles with the finesse of a runway model. I strolled and strutted. I sexy-pouted and swayed. And you know what I learned? Evidently, nobody really notices the TTS but me. But it was certainly fun to amuse myself and it did snuff out my food cravings completely.

Today if you are above ground,

if you are breathing,

if you are cross-eyed or lacking limbs,

if you are bulbous or bony,

…you are capable of laughter.

And so when I socked the Monday Monster in the eye with laughter, he dissolved into a puddle, just like the Wicked Witch of the West. And then I Trendy Tummy Swayed all over and sighed. Because even when my body is not happy, my heart can be.

There is a certain person in my life that makes me crazy. Let’s call her Annoying Nelly for the sake of anonymity. I know for certain she does not read this blog so I am totally safe! Phew. Now that’s out of the way, hop on! I’m about to go off.

Now let me say from the outset that I love Nelly. And not in a casual, “Oh, I just LOVE that outfit on you!” kind of way I’ve known her for a good many years and we are pretty solidly committed to our friendship. Sure, we’ve done each other wrong on occasion, but for some reason or other, we always come back around to making a go at being buddies. But recently her shenanigans have irked me to no end and so this morning, after a night spent tossing and turning with heartburn caused by a recent relational commotion, I decided I was done with her for good this time. It was finally time to give Nelly the “bye-bye boot”!

So while I was riding my bike, I was working out our break-up conversation. It went something like this,

Me: “You suck at being my friend.”

Nelly: “Right back atcha, you big Nerd.”

Me: “I’d rather eat grub worms than look at your veiny face any longer.”

Nelly: “I’m vain because I’m actually beautiful, unlike SOME people.”

Me: “I said vein, not vain.”

Nelly: “Ugh. You disgust me. Get out of my face.”

Me: “Fine!”

Nelly: “Fine!

Now the dear read must understand that Nelly is the Queen Cheese, and I’m not talking cheddar(because that would be an offense to cows the world over). Nelly is never (admittedly) wrong and her arrogance often defies reason. For example, when I ask for a smidgeon of kindness because my nose hair is malfunctioning, she balks. But should the corns on her big toe flare up, Dear God in Heaven, she will moan so loudly the moon shouts at her to shut up. And God forgive the sun for daring to shine on her suffering. But this barely skims the iceberg(why not mix and match clichés?). If given the option, I’m 98% certain she would boil live crabs to consume them AND mutilate baby’s breath in order to put them in something as ghastly as a vase. As if people actually want to watch decapitated flowers die a slow and painful death. (And if the dear reader knew how flagrant her use of the word chigger while camping in the woods, one would know how grievous her sins truly are, but I digress).

So between murdering flowers and properly identifying skin feasting insects, she diverged to invite me to an event to which I was not inclined to attend. And when I not-so-kindly responded, “I don’t want to attend but if you say I must, I suppose I must,” she said, “Tough noogies! Be there or be rare(because everybody who’s anyone will be there and that makes them common and you not-so-much)”.

So while I was dragging my sore nose follicles around my admittedly never-clean-house, I sighed. Because when I’m frustrated, I exhale a lot, as if heavy breathing will get me out of events I am not inclined to attend. So my husband said, “If you don’t want to go, don’t go.” But then I considered Nelly and her purplish, perpendicular-pursed lips, and in my heart-of-shriveled-hearts I knew that was not really an option.

Which is how we ended up seated at a table shooting dagger-cicles at each other with our optical orbs and consuming vast quantities of an unnamed beverage(okay, mine was water, hers not so much). And while we left the event with nary an unkind word, it was abundantly clear that we despised the ground the other pummeled with her feet and were destined to be ex best friends forever.

Because really, who eats fried chicken AND mashed potatoes AND macaroni and cheese AND corn bread muffins and retains their figure in a 40+ environment? Did I mention that I hate her (cholesterol saturated) guts?

So while I was working out our friend-busting dialogue in my brain, I heard the following verses through my earbuds via my ESV audio Bible(recorded by David Cochran Heath!).

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you.” – Gospel of John 15:12-14

And somewhere in those few lines it felt implied that if I broke up with Annoying Nelly, I would somehow be snubbing the friendship of God.

Gulp.

Cue the epic pout.

And after I was done pouting(while watching out for loose lightning bolts to shoot out of the sky and fry me like a mosquito at a bug zapper), I decided to ask God to help me love my friend instead. And while love is decidedly more difficult and not nearly as hilarious to write about, it is certainly a more worthwhile endeavor.

If you are struggling with a difficult friend today, take heart! You are not alone. And while there are a million reasons why you should break up with that person, and most of those are verifiably disgusting and abhorrently true, you are brave and beautiful if you do not. While I am learning the discipline of loving and forgiving the Annoying Nellies of the world, I am creatively conscious of the Very Good Friend who keeps no record of (my) wrongs and who has lovingly commanded me to go forth and do the same. And maybe this is what it means to lay down my own life (my will, my desires, my freedoms) in order to love Annoying Nelly. And here I’ll be completely candid, it really does feel like dying a thousand a little deaths over and over again, but when I consider that my VGF is a giver of life, laying down this Nerd body becomes less of a burden and more of a great and wonderful joy.

“Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, takes off your relish for spiritual things, whatever increases the authority of the body over the mind, that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may seem in itself.” – Susanna Wesley

I packed my bag a few years ago and headed out on a journey. I armed myself with a few books on sugar addiction and the hope that I could tame my passion to overeat. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, though I had a vague idea. I hoped to land somewhere between the corner of Lose Weight and Look Sexy by way of Discipline Street. I hit a few potholes via cookie dough and White Castle, but overall, I found the journey worthwhile. The praise of people is a good motivator. It’s nice to have cheerleaders.

But once I reached my goal weight in 2011, I found that I wasn’t quite where I needed to be. I still craved food more than I wanted to. I climbed the hill of regain and fell into the valley of depression. I took some wrong turns via Pride street. I started chasing ghosts via Career Avenue and found myself spinning in circles because—though I didn’t realize it—my compass was still pointing in the wrong direction.
My prayers were still mostly for me and all the pleasures life had to offer. I had new clothes and a smaller girth but the knowledge that I never wanted to go back to the beginning and start over was not enough to stop the binge eating and exercise bulimia tendencies. I probably don’t talk enough about the destructive mental behaviors that can accompany major body re-shaping, but needless to say they are just as toxic as the physical behaviors that got me into my obesity situation in the first place.

Somewhere between the valley of depression and the cliff of severe food allergies I came to realize how very little control I actually had over my body. Some days I felt fine. Other days my thoughts delved into self-harm. I prayed. I read my Bible. I waited. There was no magic supplement or wand to cure me. It seemed the only option I really had in life was to learn how to suffer well. I learned not to complain so much. I found joy in listening to others and offering encouragement from the comfort I had received from God via the Word. I found the still waters King David spoke of in Psalm 23 and felt the joy of a restored soul. But the physical and mental pains are still frequent bedfellows.

Recently I started to climb a familiar and rather rocky path. Compulsive behaviors are not curable that I’m aware of. Be it overeating or over-exercising, I’m a master at obsession/compulsion. And while I have a lot of tips and tricks around how to keep my weight off, not all of them are healthy. Pain and fatigue have a way of sucking one into a the quicksand of relief via dessert. But I refuse to remain in that cesspool and promptly put the brownies down and crawled out.

So there I was trying really hard not to sprain my ankle on the boulder of despair as I contemplated(fantasized about) a trip to my favorite ice cream haunt. It occurred to me once again that I could go and binge eat and then work it off later. Sure, my body is tired and worn out but as long as my calories in equal the calories out and as long as nobody notices(but me) I’m in the clear, right?

I considered the comfy habits and how they soothe me (its called habitualization). Then I rationalized that I could push my body into madness later in order to keep my summer clothes happy. But when I analyze those unhealthy behaviors and really consider how awful and enslaved they made me feel, I cringe. I don’t want to walk that path. And I definitely don’t want to feel like I’m shackled to food and/or exercise to be “healthy” when in reality I’m tearing my body and my mind to pieces in the process.

The thing is, I have come to understand that my life has a purpose. I have a destination and a destiny. Binge eating and exercise are only symptoms(and sin) that distract me from that purpose.

On this journey to learn discipline I have often stepped onto the edge of that treacherous cliff called Desire with the weights of diet and exercise around my ankles, but instead of looking down and deciding how hard my fall would be this time and how long it would take to recover, I looked out over the horizon. There in the distance I saw with great clarity the hope set before me. I saw the God who loves and forgives every fall and who will heal my broken bones every time I break them, but who longs to see me fulfill what He created me for….flying.

And that is when I noticed something I hadn’t before. I saw these shriveled little wings on my back. I never saw them before because I was always so busy looking down at my ankles and the rocks in the path. I decided to try and wiggle them a bit and found them respond. Whoa! I’m not sure they would sustain a long flight, but I wondered what would happen if I practiced. If God created me to fly, shouldn’t I be about the business of learning how to do that?

I’ve been crippled for so long by the idea that I had to hike the whole way, stumbling and falling and then taking time to recover that I never even considered flying and taking short cuts over the most treacherous places.

What specific event caused me to notice the wings, you ask? It’s this, I realized the journey is not really about me at all. I’ve been looking at me for so long that I missed the most beautiful view of all, Jesus. Now maybe you are thinking that I write about Jesus a lot so I must have this whole Christianity thing figured out. As if! The truth is, I do love Jesus and he is wonderful at cleaning me up and dusting me off and loving away my heartaches, but he’s also just really beautiful all by Himself. He’s not dependent on me at all but He has invited me to walk and maybe even fly with Him. But I’ve been holding onto some pretty heavy things that didn’t allow me to fully live out the purpose for which He has created me. I’ve been clinging to my identity as a food addicted person a little too closely. I’ve been exercising so much I almost forgot exercise can be something other than drudgery. I’ve been so rigid about what I put into my mouth that I sometimes forget I need to nourish my brain. And yes, I will always have foods that make me ill, but my whole world doesn’t have to revolve around them. I’ve been scuttling about in the dirt and shuffling rocks and not even realizing I had real live wings!
I don’t diet and exercise to stay thinnish. I live a healthy lifestyle so I can bring glory to my King. He has important work for me to do that requires flying and that is a wonderful and exciting thing to learn about oneself.

So now it’s time to take a deep breath…
I take the keys and unlock the shackle on my left foot of obsessive compulsive eating and then unlock the shackle of over-exercising on my right. I dust off my shame and guilt(those have been forgiven!) and I step closer to the edge. I feel the breeze. I look down and realize the rocks can’t hurt me if I use my wings. So I flex, I inhale, I smile and I leap…

and for a split second I think maybe my fall will be epic, but then I feel the updraft and suddenly I’m soaring!

“Let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely…” Hebrews 12

The author and perfector of my faith is showing me just how very much He loves me. I am certainly not without cuts and bruises but I have to admit the view from up here is simply stunning.

Running with endurance…

Soaring on eagles wings…

These come from not despising the discipline of the Lord.

Tears? Yes. Pain? And then some. Hope that can never be diminished? Hallelujah!