Archive for the The Journey Category

I climbed aboard my bicycle this morning with sweat dripping down my back. To say that it’s hot in St. Louis would be an understatement(100 degrees +). My Facebook feed is filled with images of melting ice cream trucks and even a melted Snoopy. I would have been justified to stay at home in my cool house and relax but Sunday morning bike rides before church give me so much joy. I didn’t want to miss the blessing I receive by spending time with my Lord. For me, exercise is an act of worship. I suppose this is due in part to how difficult it was in the beginning of my journey and how the only way I could endure it was to listen to scripture and pray. I was recently standing at Lowe’s with a 28 pound bag of bird seed on my shoulder when I thought I would collapse from the weight of it. I literally cannot imaging walking around with an extra 140 pounds on my body today. Or maybe I could, but even thinking about it makes me ill.

Last night I read my friend Holly’s blog: 300 Pounds Down where she talks about her journey to keep off the excess weight that threatens her life. I was praying for her this morning because her journey is my own, and right now she could use a little help. (Can’t we all?) You see, every day I face the temptation to make food my god and to be honest, more often than I would like to admit, I fail. This struggle to maintain a healthy lifestyle in the face of so much temptation causes me to ponder why I find (physical)success where others do not. Is it because I am stronger? Smarter? More determined? Is it because I have better genes(I don’t think so!) or because I have stronger faith? Because the truth is, it really doesn’t feel that way. I have many friends who are strong Christians and they have not been able to lose the weight and keep it off. It seems like the ultimate snub from God to pray for help to lose weight and to see that prayer go unanswered.

I was pondering all of this early today as I rode my bike in the sweltering heat. I often feel guilty that I have (mostly) kept the weight off and want so much to help others not to lose heart. The truth is, every day I make a series of choices–some of which are difficult–others of which have become routine, but none of which would be possible without the word of God and its tremendous impact on my life.

I recently began reading “Tramp for the Lord” by Corrie Ten Boom. If you have not heard of her, please read her book, “The Hiding Place” where she details the work she and her family did to rescue Jews during the Nazi occupation of Holland. The Ten Boom family were betrayed by a neighbor and her father died in jail. But Corrie and her beloved sister Betsy were sent to the infamous Ravensbruck concentration camp where they were certain they would never emerge alive.

She writes,

“It was in the middle of the night when Betsie and I reached the processing barracks. And there, under the harsh ceiling lights, we saw a dismaying sight. As each woman reached the head of the line she had to strip off every scrap of clothes, throw them all onto a pile guarded by soldiers, and walk naked past the scrutiny of a dozen guards into the shower room. Coming out of the shower room she wore only a thin regulation prison dress and a pair of shoes.

Our Bible! How could we take it past so many watchful eyes?”

Upon entering the camp, Corrie’s biggest worry was that she would not have the precious word of her Lord, but it seems in 2016 that most Christians have one(if not ten) bibles laying around their homes, most of them with dust on them. But the Bible, to Corrie, was her most precious possession. This resonated very powerfully with me today. You see, I probably don’t state enough in this blog how important the Bible is to me, especially since I am–at my core–a rotten and wicked sinner saved only by the amazing grace of God.

If you are reading this and thinking, “Good grief! That Margaret sure is self-righteous. Who does she think she is?” Let me make this very clear, I think little to nothing of myself. If you knew me, you would know what I neurotic mess I really am. I only use this blog as a way to continue to make right decisions and to spur on others who are interested in learning and growing on their journey. Now that we have that straight, I want to be very candid. I would not be where I am today without Jesus and his great gift to me, his words.

In fact, early on, when I thought I hadn’t a chance of success, I made a decision to memorize his words because I believe they have great power. Today I believe this is the only reason I have succeeded in losing weight at all. Today I still rest on that decision and recite His words every time I struggle with the desire to eat something that would harm my body(sugar/french fries/McArthur’s cake). Memorizing scripture has not only given me a tremendous love for God’s word, but it has given me the strength to work out when I didn’t feel like, resist the foods that once defined me, and to learn to love people who are wholly unlovable. But more than any of that, it has enabled me to know Jesus in ways I never thought possible. And there is nothing–and I mean nothing–in this world more important to me than that.

It is so challenging(as a food addict) to face a world that offers me delightful food at every moment of the day and know that if I want to remain healthy, I must find the strength to resist those things that would harm me. Without the truth of God’s word shining in my heart, I might still believe that lie that I can’t live without it.

That is what I would tell Holly today….don’t give up. Don’t lose heart. Today’s failure is tomorrow’s victory. Corrie Ten Boom told the prisoners in Ravensbruck, “Jesus is victor!” And he still is. Whether we fail or succeed in resisting temptation, one day we won’t fight this horrible battle any longer because Jesus will win the war.

Today, if you are struggling with any kind of addiction, open your bible. Read God’s word. It is powerful. It is beautiful. And it is true. And it will help you succeed in the strength of the One who faced the cross and conquered sin once and for all.

I am a creature of habit. Some people say, “I’m stuck in a rut” as if that were a bad thing. But as for me, I like my ruts long and deep. Ruts are easy. And that is why we ate homemade pizza for 6 days in a row last week. I was worn out (life is busy—not to mention mentally challenging) and everybody likes pizza. Believe it or not, I get tired of my children complaining about the healthy dinners I make.

Last week it was Mom for the win! And we might have had pizza for dinner every night forever except that my husband put his foot down. He might have said something like, “Where’s the beef?” but I can’t remember. Mainly, he made it clear the reign of pizza was over. And that is when Taco week began. (Okay, it was really only 3 days of tacos, but I digress)

Before I learned how to make “healthy” pizza, I would never have imagined I could eat pizza for 6 days in a row and not gain weight. And it’s not just because I exercise a lot. (Fyi…one can lose weight via diet alone) This morning while I was jogging, I was thinking about my routines and how safe they make me feel. I was also thinking about how wonderful it is that I spent so many years cultivating healthy habits. I don’t say all of this to brag about how awesome I am. Much to the contrary. I am simply saying that I am glad some good came out of the diet and exercise torture I went through to get to a place where I no longer weigh 310 pounds. I’ll be candid…I never, ever want to go through that again. Twice is enough!
But there was a time in my life when I could not have imagined being excited to wake up early to exercise and I am very glad that has become my reality. Still, there are some days—like today—when I consider my “new reality” and chuckle.

I have recently been a part of a Facebook Group of women(mostly moms) who are striving to live a healthy lifestyle. I didn’t purposely sign up for the group. It happened quite by accident. The owner of the group is a Facebook friend and she added me to a team after I “liked” one of her posts about forming two teams who compete for the most miles walked in a week. Today I noticed that my name was at the top of team 2 and I wondered if she did that because she knew I would be faithful to keep my team on track.

It then occurred to me that 6 short years ago I was struggling to walk up one hill, much less 6 miles of hills(which is now my comfortable “rut”). As I was taking my “proof of exercise” picture, it occurred to me how strange my situation is. How did the girl who could barely walk around one block get to a place where she eats “healthy pizza” and walks 6 miles several times a week, and is such a sure-fire exercise bet that she gets put at the top of the roster for an workout challenge? (disclaimer—I might be reading too much into the list leader thing, but please don’t burst my bubble and tell me it was a coincidence)

In 1984, the band Chicago released a song called, “Hard habit to break”. In it the broken-hearted man laments the loss of someone he took for granted. When Peter Cetera sings, “I’m addicted to you! You’re a hard habit to break”, he could be singing my song. After all, trading in my Snickers bars for dried apricots took some “getting used to”. (if you feel so inclined, read my posts about sugar addiction)

There was a time when I couldn’t envision my life without plates of cookies or chocolate stashed in my drawers at work. Now I stop at tables on the side of the road for free summer squash (while my children whine, “Mom, what are you doing?!”) I ride my bike for hours just so I can soak in the fresh air and sunshine. I make whole wheat pizza crust heaped high with veggies instead of pepperoni and sausage. And truthfully, I don’t miss the heaps of sugary/carb laden crap. And I don’t like to imagine returning to a life where I’m not able to move freely.

So many times I watch friends and acquaintances lose large amounts of weight only to gain it back. I’ve done it myself—mostly because I am a creature of habit. If I eat ice cream one day, I want it the next day too. And that is why it has been so important that I stay as sugar-free as possible. Eliminating sugar reduces the cravings by circumventing the insulin loop that causes me to want more. This is especially important because increasing exercise causes me to get hungry more often. By practicing healthy habits, I have created an environment where I can maintain my weight loss over time.

Now, 6 years into my journey, I find it really challenging to put unhealthy foods into my mouth. And when people question my resolve, I have no problem telling them why I abstain. And if people feel offended by my “rut”, so be it.

It takes time to learn about how to properly nourish the body. It takes time to develop an exercise routine. Much like wearing down a footpath into the woods requires day after day of stomping down the weeds, living a healthy lifestyle does not happen overnight. So if you are reading this and you have been disheartened over past failures… if you feel like you don’t have the strength or stamina to make another start… if you think healthy people are annoying people(sometimes I do too!)… think again. Try again. Because I am living proof that healthy habits are hard to break. And even though I really like the Chicago song that grieves the burden of a habit that is hard to let go of, I am happy to follow it up with the Robert Plant fiesta that is, “Addicted to Love”. Because the thing is, I am “addicted to love” -ing myself enough to stop hurting myself with food my food addiction.

Evil is all around us. It is in the air we breathe(pollution), the entertainment we participate in(television/movies/internet), and in our daily commute(pesky drivers!). It is also prevalent in the natural world. This morning I gazed out of the window to see a tiny song sparrow feeding a large brown bird. The large brown bird flapped its wings and cried as if to say, “More food! I’m hungry!” In the moment I thought it was adorable. But then it occurred to me that something “fowl” was afoot. I watched as the song sparrow became clearly exasperated and eventually flew away. The large brown bird squawked and followed. In that moment it occurred to me that this wasn’t a cute Disney moment. The song sparrow wasn’t feeding the bird because it felt sorry for it, or because it had taken an orphan under “its wing”. (More puns, sorry). The song sparrow had been duped, and that to me feels like an egregious evil.

You see, Cowbirds(the big brown bird) don’t raise their own young. They are a parasitic breed. They find and stalk the nests of other birds and lay their eggs in them while the parent is away. Sometimes, they even destroy the eggs of the parent bird to ensure their egg isn’t rejected. I felt a little sick when I read that because I hadn’t seen any baby song sparrows in the aforementioned scenario. In my mind, I saw the mother Cowbird shoving the Song Sparrow eggs out of the nest in lieu of her own, and then fly away to raid the nest some other unfortunate bird. This is how Cowbird’s reproduce; by killing the young of others and tricking the parents into raising them as their own. If this isn’t evil I don’t know what is. In fact, if this happened in the human kingdom I’m pretty sure there would be a 60 Minutes special dedicated to the ensuing investigation. And here I’ve always thought The Ugly Duckling was a beautiful story about love and acceptance when in reality it’s a story of a poor mother duck that’s been the victim of a con artist goose.

How am I supposed to respond to such evil? My dad said he is tempted to shoot the Cowbird and stop the cycle. But killing the innocent bird seems wrong too. After all, the baby is not responsible for its parent’s behavior. Still, the behavior of the breed itself seems evil(in my humble opinion), and if Cowbirds didn’t act that way the species would die out, wouldn’t it?

What is the answer to such a conundrum when the evil is genetic?

I have been thinking a lot about the current state of our world and my place in it. Superficially, I feel the temptation to condemn or condone current events via rogue comments on social media. No matter which stance I take I am certain to offend someone, and so therefore I frequently refrain. Better to stay silent and be considered wise than to speak out loud and confirm I’m a fool. Still, my heart aches over what I consider to be the many great evils that are so prevalent in our society. The tender-hearted side of me cries out for a solution. I want justice. I want peace. But neither justice nor peace is anywhere to be found. Not in our government. Not in my neighborhood. Not in my own sin-infected heart.

As I rode my bike this morning, my thoughts cried out for an answer to the unspeakable evil in my own life and I felt the talons of despair draw blood. While I may appear rational and sane most of the time, in private I simmer constantly with cravings, resentments, and fears. As I compared all of the good things I want to do to help others against the backdrop of my own broken and flawed body, I found myself screaming into the void. All I could think was this, “I am utterly helpless. I need someone to save me.”

Now maybe you are reading this and thinking, “That Margaret sure has a lot of problems but I’ve got life all figured out.” Okay, so maybe this blog isn’t for you. You are hereby excused. If that’s not your stance, I entreat you to keep reading.

Most of my life I have formed opinions based on my personal experiences and they are, in general, in line with the way most people think. Bullying is wrong. Stealing is bad. Child porn is wicked. I generally form these opinions based on the culture around me and how they define good and evil. But as time wears away the sharp edges of my black/white perspective, I find that my opinion of myself has evolved over time. Whereas I used to think of myself as a pretty good person, I now consider that I’m more like the Cowbird.

I have decried people I know for blatant racism, but I myself have hated certain black people over the years. This was especially true for the grade school bully who took great delight in tormenting me(and many others).

I have hated certain church people who didn’t meet my (selfish) expectations. So much so that for a while I walked away from my faith.

I have preached abstinence but I have not been abstinent.

I have pursued relationships based on what I could gain from them rather than what I could give.

I have taken solace with food and leaned on the crutch of addiction with relative ease. And then I have looked at others and thought they were lazy and fat.

So when I consider the Cowbird, I am grieved. Because no matter how much I try to do what is right, no matter how diligent I am to keep my thoughts innocent and pure, no matter how patient and loving and kind I fight to be, at the end of the day, I still seek to serve myself and shove my neighbors eggs out of his nest so I can lay my own.

All of these thoughts drive me to the cross. It is the only place of solace for me. There I consider Christian(of Pilgrim’s Progress) and the peace and freedom he felt as he laid down his burden and watched it roll away. And when my thoughts are as dark and twisty as they are today, Jesus is my only recompense.

Evil is real. It is in the face of the pedophile, the thirst of the addict, and my own festering heart. So when my dark days stretch out and I find myself at the end of my effort, I cry out, “Somebody save me!” And for some reason I will never understand, Jesus always does. He delivers me from evil. Today if you recognize the evil in your own heart and are brave enough to ask, He will save you too.