Archive for the The Journey Category

“Do you mortify; do you make it your daily work; be always at it while you live; cease not a day from this work; be killing sin or it will be killing you.” John Owen
If you don’t know where you’re going, you’ll never get there. When planning a vacation, one generally completes the necessary tasks in order to make it happen. On our recent trip to Gulf Shores, Alabama, I had to pack my clothes, pack our food in coolers, put gas in the car, print out directions, and ask for time off work. I could not get there without doing the necessary work beforehand.

Planning a vacation is not much different than going on a diet. You endure torturous hours of planning, brutal hours of execution and finally, if you are faithful to your road map, you reach your glorious destination. But once the diet is over, you grieve. Sure, you have some great pictures, but all that hard work floats out of the window like a wayward birthday balloon. Sure, you can see it glistening in the sun for a few minutes, but you know without a doubt you will never hold that beautiful bauble in your hands again.

Today I passed by a glorious birthday cake, or at least, what was left of it. I stopped to gaze at the pretty pink roses and sigh. But I’ll let you in on a secret; I wasn’t tempted to take a piece. Now don’t get me wrong, I wanted to eat it. It looked tasty, smelled tasty, and—I’m pretty sure—it was tasty. But as I looked at it, all I could think about was the cakes of years gone by. Like flashbacks from a horror movie, I saw myself sneaking piece after piece back to my desk while I slowly worshiped at the altar of cake. In my pre-healthy days I could eat four or five pieces before I was satisfied, and then I would sneak at least that many home for later consumption. In that thirty second glimpse of cake I saw myself trying to squeeze into yet another pair of pants that had “shrunk”, and wedging myself behind the steering wheel of my too-small driver’s seat. I saw myself crying on the drive home because my zipper had burst again; despair bunched up on my shoulders like the worst kind of emotional baggage while I desperately promised to try another diet “tomorrow.” I’ll never forget how that felt, hopelessness strangling me like a 100 pound python while I screamed helplessly into the void. I took a picture of the cake and passed by, relieved to no longer be in the grip of its tantalizing–yet deadly–tentacles.

When I first began my journey I had little hope of overcoming my desire for food. To this day I am amazed at the courage it took to face myself and just be honest. All I knew was that I wanted to learn how to discipline my body and lose the weight forever. The journey was challenging and rewarding, brutally lonely and blissfully joyful. With each milestone I had a hundred people cheering for me even if I was a little hard on myself. Some days, when food got the best of me and I had to cry myself to sleep, I reminded myself that yes, my mistakes had consequences, but that didn’t change God’s love for me. You see, I grew up with this feeling that every time I failed, I somehow made Him love me less(I know now this wasn’t true). It mattered to me because I loved God and wanted to make Him proud. Maybe that sounds nuts to you, (sorry about that) but my journey to better health has always been about learning discipline because of my love for Jesus. For so many years I felt that if I couldn’t discipline myself with food, I had little hope in managing the rest of my life.

After many years of practice via making healthy choices, I find it much easier to choose a healthy option than an unhealthy one. I freely admit that when I ate Pizza Hut pizza with a friend this summer because that was the only option available and I was starving, I was soul sick. I had to force myself to let it go. It’s not the food(Pizza Hut) that’s sinful, but rather my attitude about it. For me food was always about the experience of eating, not the nourishment of my body. Learning the difference is what helps me maintain my health to this day. I enjoy the benefits of eating right and exercising. So when I came across this verse recently, I realized how true it really is.

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” Hebrews 12:11
I do not pretend to be overly righteous(if you don’t know me I’m a very flawed individual), but I can see the fruit of making healthy choices in my body and thought processes. I learned by making hard choices (discipline) that I could overcome my addictions and compulsions by simply making a good choice over and over again. It’s as simple (and challenging) as that. How do you walk a mile? One step at a time. How do you reduce calories? One meal at a time. How do you change your attitude? One thought at a time.

I have been reading a fascinating book by John Owen called “Overcoming Sin and Temptation.” The crux of the book is fairly simple. Kill sin or it will kill you. I read this book as one eats a rich and savory meal, one beautiful sentence at a time. It reiterates so much of my journey which has involved training my mind to fight against my impulses, being diligent to think through the consequences of my actions, and protecting my mind against the deadly thoughts that seek to poison my spirit.

I am thankful for what I am learning on this strange and wonderful journey. I am curious about who or what tomorrow will bring. And I am hopeful that whatever happens next, I remember that for better or worse, I am wholly and abundantly loved by my creator, by no act of my own. And today I chose not to eat the cake and I am really happy about that choice.

So today was my birthday. This birthday was unlike any other birthday I have ever had. Normally I have this crisis of conscience wherein I chew my nails over birthday cake, high calorie meals and surprise cookies. In years past I have celebrated with donuts, Chick-Fil-A and my favorite DQ ice cream cake. I mean really, it’s my birthday! I should eat whatever I want, right?

So this year I really didn’t even think about the food problem. I made this decision to celebrate my special day with people, not food. So I got up and celebrated with a strength training workout that I really enjoyed. I added 10 reps to every set in collusion with my Marine recruit. Then I went to work and was confronted with–eegads!–brownies! Homemade brownies! One of my dear friends made them for me and left them on my desk. A few years ago this would have been a real problem but today I was sincerely delighted! I cut piece after piece and walked them around to all of my friends in the building. I watched with delight as their faces lit up, and then I went back to my desk and worked. Giving really is better than receiving!

I am continually fascinated by the way our culture puts food on a pedestal. Every “important” event must be celebrated with a feast. I am planning a large meeting at work and the company hosting the event explained to me that the food “must be very special.” Meaning, the food must not stink or there might be mutiny! Since I don’t want to be pelted with iPhone cords, we have worked diligently to make the food an event in and of itself. Wow!

As for my birthday, I feel like I’m making progress with my friends. Today only one person chided me for not chowing down on the brownies. And while I always scratch my head a bit at this, I didn’t obsess. I just let it go. I have come to know my body very well over the past few years. And since I don’t want to feel like crud, I generally eat foods that don’t wreak havoc on my cells. Today I had lunch with my friend Robin at Nourish by Hollyberry. It is this fabulous little eatery on Manchester Road. I had one of the best Greek salads I have ever eaten and a delightful raspberry tea. Even better, I got to visit with one of my dear friends. It was such a great time. I did not eat pizza or french fries and I was happy!

So how nice for you, Margaret. I’m so glad you wrote a blog on how diligent you are with your diet. Whoopee doo! As if I needed another lecture on what a fat slob I am. Sheesh!

Okay, let me clarify…I didn’t write this to talk about how great I am. To the contrary. I actually wanted to emphasize that living a healthy lifestyle makes me so happy. I have the freedom to not eat sugary stuff and not feel deprived. In face, I really only shared all of this to encourage those of you who feel like a birthday without a gorge-fest is not possible. Maybe you’ve fallen off the healthy lifestyle bandwagon and got stuck under the wheel. Maybe the horse even kicked you in the head. Hey! I get it. That’s why I’m here to encourage you. Grab that horse by the ankle and yank yourself back up. Shoot, phone a friend if necessary. Just don’t stay under the wheels. It’s messy down there. Take my word for it. Climb back up. Seriously, the view from the top of the bandwagon is, well, grand!

Living a healthy lifestyle shouldn’t be painful. If one makes a routine of eating well and exercising, it’s really quite awesome. Even better, tomorrow–the day after my big day–I don’t need to worry about buying bigger pants. Truthfully, I didn’t eat a lick of sugar today. And you know what? My birthday was so awesome I hardly noticed!

“Wolfinbarger, you can do it! Push up that hill. Move! Move! Move!” These are the words I spoke to myself this morning as I jogged up a steep hill. My thoughts were more nimble than my feet as I considered my son at MRCD-SD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot-San Diego). I imagined the drill instructors and their words of motivation. I imagined my son coping with Incentive Training even as I remembered how I tried to help him prepare physically. I also thought about all of the wisdom my parents tried to impart on me when I was 18 and how much of it went in one ear and out of the other.

Marine Corps training is tough. It is designed to weed out weaklings and produce highly trained individuals who protect American freedoms. The drill instructors motivate recruits into a frenzy by way of unreasonable demands, exhaustion, and hunger. As a parent of a recruit, my first inclination is to think of the drill instructors as bullies. They scream. They inflict punishment. They restrict personal freedoms. They demean and demand. The truth is, however, drill instructors are not bullies. They are supremely disciplined men and women who teach young people a tremendous amount of information in a very short period of time. The entire boot camp experience is orchestrated to make men of boys, and women of girls. Those who survive the experience are empowered because they accomplish something many consider impossible. Thus their mantra, “OORAH!” is particularly potent. They have earned the right to shout because they triumphed in the face of incredible hardship.

But on mornings like today, I am overwhelmed with the enormity of my son’s training. As a mother, I think only of his weaknesses, his failures, and his rebellious inclinations. I wonder if he is hungry and tired, or considering that he was crazy to enlist. He is after all, a human being, and completely entitled to those feelings. Even worse, I long to run to him and provide help but I am not allowed. My longings blossom and wither as each passing minute blends into the next. I feel helpless, as from nearly 2,000 miles away my son endures the rigors of the most intense physical training he has ever received.

It would be easy to get lost in the emotionality of the situation, but I choose instead to focus on what I know and can control. This morning I considered my own journey and how I have learned and flourished through it. I lost 140 pounds through sheer discipline. I have endured hunger, aching muscles and innumerable hills I thought were unclimbable. So while I ache to remove the hardship from my son, I am also acutely aware of the importance of personal adversity. Practically speaking, hunger forces the mind to focus. Physical exasperation compels us to probe our minds to produce desired results regardless of feelings. Harsh conditions cause us to butt up against our perceived limitations and make a decision to quit or keep pushing. Consider this; drought strengthens weak roots that in turn build a strong tree.

The inexperience of youth breeds insecurity, but time–and a mind that is ready and willing to learn–builds solid character; a sure and steadfast foundation for life.

I have the unwavering perspective of a mother, with all of its love and mercy, joy and grief, long-suffering and hope. As such, I still see my little boy clinging tightly to his younger brother’s hand in order to protect him as they crossed the street on the way to school. I see the firm grip he has on his hand and the look of sheer determination on his 9 year old face. He doesn’t look back at me or wave. Instead he presses forward, ensuring the safe delivery of his brother on school grounds. I see the little boy in his Army uniform, running around the corner of the house with a fake rifle in his hand and the rat-a-tat of imaginary bullets exploding from his mouth. I hear him shouting orders as they play. My own words echo in my head, “Be nice to your brother.”

“But Mom,” he says, “we’re playing soldiers!”

He outgrew the uniform. In fact, he grew taller than me. But my handsome son still has a noble heart. While I am certain he has many lessons yet to learn, right now he’s on a path to conquer discipline. And I am confident in the drill sergeants to impart in him every ounce of knowledge they possess in that regard. And while I can’t be there to watch the transformation, I’m praying for him every second I’m awake. So get at it, Recruit Wolfinbarger! Move! Move! Move!