Grace.Cheer.Discipline.

I am about three weeks into my working out/dieting (aka Curves) journey.  It hasn’t exactly been a cake walk but then again it hasn’t been quite as hard as I thought it would be either.

The exercise part rocks.   I love being active.  Granted I have had a few mornings that I woke up feeling like a 90 year old lady.  I have bones that are seriously creaking.  But, my body loves it.  And I love it.  I love sweating and moving and pushing myself.  I don’t love sitting in traffic every morning, and there are definitely days that I wish I could just have a lazy morning with coffee and my pjs, but I know it is worth it.  My once athletic frame is thanking me for getting my rear back in gear.  

I HATE the dieting part.  I mean I really and truly hate it.  It takes so much energy and will power and money and TIME.  Who know eating healthy would take that much work.  But it does.  I have dreamed about food more nights than I can count.  I have not eaten a piece of dessert since I started, but the craving is still as intense as the first day…maybe even more so.   I can handle the eating healthy part for my meals. I love to cook and I really enjoy eating a variety of veggies.  I am a little tired of chicken but the red meat variety is very slim down here and most of it loaded with lots of fat, so chicken it is.  

But I WANT CAKE! Or PIE! Or COOKIES!  I want…no I NEED something sweet.

That sugar addiction thing is real folks. It is very, very real.

 (This picture has been my motivation for no cake, cookie, and pie eating.  Even though it was my wedding day, it was also the time in my life that I was probably the healthiest I have ever been. I didn't just drop a bunch of weight for my wedding. I was living a healthy and active lifestyle.)

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Yesterday I had my meeting with my “counselor” so to speak.  She weighs me, checks my fat and muscle percentages, measures me, etc.  Then we talk about how the week went…what was hard, easy, etc.  

You will never believe what happened…or maybe you will.

I cried.  AGAIN!  Geez Louise, you’d think I would be over the water works by now.  Oh but they were fresh and fierce.

The thing is I can be sarcastic about this and laugh and make jokes, but the truth is this process I am going through is very real.  It is about SO much more than just losing the extra pounds and getting my body healthy again.  This is me stripping down, getting real with myself and others, and learning a little more self-discipline.  This is me trying to stop making excuses and actually putting something into action. 

This is me saying enough is enough…no more.  No more excuses.  No more justifications.  No more I can’t do this or it is too hard.

But there I was yesterday, saying all those things.  I can’t do this anymore. It is too hard.  Food is consuming my life.  Because hello it isn’t just me.  I also have to cook for my mother in law who just had her gallbladder removed and is on an extremely strict diet.  Then I also have my three kids (ages 9, 4, and 1) who aren’t that adventurous of eaters and who operate under the pretense of weird looking or smelling things must also taste weird so let’s just avoid those things all together, and when Mommy actually makes us eat it, let’s act like she is killing us.  Yes that really happens around here. And finally, I have my hubby who although is not a junk eater isn’t really down with couscous and chicken breast with a side of steamed veggies all the time.  Oh and he also asks me almost on a daily basis if there are any cookies or pieces of cake he can have with his after lunch coffee. 

 

So yeah the diet part is stressing me out. 

I was there begging her…with tears…to let me out of my contract of the diet portion.  I would continue to try and eat healthy but the bounds of trying to follow that strict eating and cooking schedule were too much.  And please oh please could I just pay a fine and get out of it.

Pretty much, no, I can’t just pay a fine and get out of it.  A contract is a contract.  (Or so they say anyway)

So I went to the bathroom, wiped my tears, washed my hands and started my workout.   I had maybe one of my best workouts yet.  All that pent up emotion came spilling over into my exercise and I was pushing myself even harder.  There was my sweet counselor too by my side as I worked out telling me to go harder, one more time, faster, etc.  She was pushing me and that made me stronger.

On my way out, she also had printed off 15 color pages of some tips that would help me with the cooking, dieting aspect of this.  I am not going to go into detail of everything on those pages, but let’s just say they were very helpful, and it was something she didn’t have to do for me.

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Why do I share all of this?  Because God is teaching me some valuable lessons on this journey, and I think they are lessons that can spill over into real life too.

1.  Grace.

We need to not only practice showing grace to others but we need to practice showing it to ourselves.  We aren’t perfect.  Yes we need to push ourselves. We need to strive to do our best.  We need to work hard.  But, we have to leave room for grace.  There are no perfect moms or dads...wives or husbands…bodies or faces.  We are imperfect people living in an imperfect world, trying to be a light in the darkness.  We are going to mess up.  We aren’t going to get it right every time.  We need to show ourselves enough grace to be able to pick ourselves back up, dust ourselves off, and just keep right on going. 

 

2. Cheer

Although I was never a cheerleader in high school (I would have made the worst one ever), I want to be a cheerleader in real life. I want to come alongside of those God has placed in my life and cheer them along.  It doesn’t matter where they are going or what they are doing. I want to be someone that is telling them to keep going, press harder, don’t give up, don’t give in, you can do it.  Much like my counselor did for me yesterday, I want to have compassion and see that sometimes those around me need more of me than I, at times, am naturally inclined to give.  

Coincidentally, I was reading in 1 Samuel yesterday as well.  I have been studying again the life of David.  It always fascinates me that although David was far from perfect, he was a man of perseverance.   Yesterday my reading took me to Saul’s pursuit for David’s life.  Saul was a man with one goal: kill David.  David was spending his days on the run. He was hiding out in temples, caves, different cities. In almost every one of those hiding places, God sent someone to David to encourage him.  The first time David was encouraged by the priest and his gift to David of Goliath’s sword.  It was a reminder of what God had already done once with David…using him to defeat the undefeatable.  Then later while hiding in a cave, God sent David’s family to him.  A time later after David was pushed out of the city he had just defended, God sent him his best friend Jonathon.  Over and over again, I could see God reminding David that he wasn’t alone, to keep pressing on, to not give up or give in.  He was sending David his own set of cheerleaders.  

I want to be a part of the cheerleading squad for my family and friends.  Life is hard enough as it is.  I don’t want to do it alone, and I don’t want those around me to have to do it alone either. 

3. Discipline (or Self-Control)

At the end of the day, this is a fruit of the spirit for a reason.  Look at any example of a mighty person in the faith, a mighty warrior, or even in the secular world, any person of great success, and I am certain you will find this trait in them.  We can’t get anywhere without it.  We will always give up. We will always give in.  We will be mediocre.  

For me personally, mediocre is the very last place I want to be. I would rather be at the very bottom than just kind of stuffed in the middle.  I don’t want to do things half way.  I don’t want to just scrap by.  

Of all the “greats” in my own life, not a single one of them could be labeled as mediocre.  Nobody remembers the mediocre.  I am sorry but it is the truth. 

Obviously, it isn’t about me. I don’t want to be great for me.  I want to be great for HIM.  I want my life to have a great and lastly impact on my family, on my friends, and on my generation. I don’t want to be another person taking up space, breathing the air but not adding or contributing in any way. 

I can’t do this without discipline. 

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So for now I just keep taking another step.  I am not going to be perfect. I will fail at times.  But, I won’t give up. I CAN”T give up. 

Grace. Cheer. Discipline.

Let’s keep on, keepin’ on.  Whose with me?

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Taking a leap...or a baby step

I did something crazy today.  Well crazy for me anyway.  You see I am not all that crazy about change…or new things…or anything really that is going to cause me that nervous, stomach going to explode feeling. 

I like routine. I like consistency. I like things to stay pretty much the same most of the time.  

I realize this is extremely boring for some of you. But my Type A personality just doesn’t thrive too well under new…under different.

Especially if that “new” means I am going to have to talk to people that I don’t know, at a place that I don’t know, under circumstances that make me want to cry.  Not usually my thing.

But today I for a plethora of reasons I did that very thing. 

Today, ladies and gentlemen, I joined Curves. 

Yes you read that right.  I joined that “old ladies gym” as my girls lovingly called it.  That gym run my women and made for women.  

I almost puked in the car before I actually went inside, though.  It was not some climatic, cue the beautiful music, kind of moment.  I was sick over it.  I didn’t want to do it. I was mad that I even was doing it, but something inside of me propelled me to get out of my car and walk inside the building.  

Deep down (and excuse my honesty here but I just gotta say it like it is)…deep down I was hoping to find a whole bunch of middle-aged, seriously overweight women.  Somehow I felt like if the gym was filled with them, then I would feel better about myself and be the young, athletic one.   

[This is painful for me to be this honest but I think it is important to purge all this so I can get to the good stuff.]

Unfortunately, no matter how cute my little workout outfit was (because yes I did try to look cute to go workout…don’t judge, you know you have done it too), I was still the fat girl there today.  I saw lots of ladies coming and going as I was being weighed and measured and being talked to about my health goals and most of those ladies really didn’t look like they needed to be there.  For the most part, they were all pretty fit and healthy.  Oh and they weren’t all middle-aged…there were lots of young ones in there too.  Of course in the middle of this realization, I am also being told how much I weigh…which let’s just say was like almost 15 lbs more than what I thought I weighed. 

 

I felt pretty devastated guys.  I was the fat girl in the middle of the supposed “old ladies gym.” Awesome. 

It felt like a slap in the face in the midst of all this trying to find myself beautiful saga.  I was taking like 20 steps backward when I had already worked so hard just to take a few baby steps forward.  

But I am not a quitter so even though I actually did cry when my new trainer told me how much I weighed and how many inches I needed to lose to get to my goal, I stayed.  I knew that even though I felt ridiculous and even though everything inside of me told me to just run and get out there, to go back to what I already know and have been doing, I stayed.  I signed the contract and even signed up for the nutrition part of it (good thing I ate my homemade Red Velvet cake for breakfast both Saturday and Sunday because that is all over now folks!).  

I didn’t want to be there.  I didn’t want to be doing that.  But I HAD to.  I knew that deep down this struggle with my weight and really my overall health is seeping into other areas of my life. 

Yesterday I read this verse in proverbs: “The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and the Lord tests hearts.” –Proverbs 17:3

Now why in the world would the Lord put the word crucible (meaning a vessel used for melting materials at high temperatures) and the word furnace (one definition of this word is just a very hot place) in the same sentence as “the Lord tests hearts” if these concepts weren’t somehow related?  I don’t think He would have.  They are related.  Because many times when the Lord tests our hearts, it feels like walking through a fire.

God has been stretching me in huge ways lately.  He has been testing the way I think, the way I see things, the way I understand the world and even the very foundation of my faith in big ways.  It’s almost like everything I thought I knew, I don’t know anymore.  If that even makes sense.  He is asking me to trust…even though I don’t know why or what for.  

I don’t really understand what is going on. I don’t understand what He is doing.  But, I do feel like He is preparing me and the rest of my family too for something big. 

I want to be ready. 

And for the first time in my life, I really understand why Paul used so many times in his letters the comparison of our physical bodies being prepared and disciplined to our spiritual bodies being that way.  You either are a disciplined person or you aren’t.  There really isn’t a middle ground. 

For so many years I have just teeter-tottered between the two.  I try to be disciplined but inevitably fail.  I make resolutions or goals but eventually get bored.  I try and work out and eat right but end up eating Red Velvet cake for breakfast and skipping my workout. I start the bible study but don’t finish it.  I am going to read the Bible in a year but stop half way through.  In every area of my life, I can see all my good intentions but no real, clear cut results.  

I don’t really want to live like that anymore. 

I don’t want to walk the fine line between two things.  I am either all in or all out.  I want to experience something in its fullness not just taste a bite of it. 

Life in abundance.  It means abounding…overflowing…not just a drip.

I want to be all in.

So today I took a baby step.  I am going in. No more teeter-tottering.  No more half way or half done.  Not this time.

It’s a little scary. 

But when I look around the world, I can see clearly that it is filled with half-wayers.  Folks filled with a ton of great intentions and great ideas but no real follow through. 

Change doesn’t happen that way friends.  We must do. We must act.  No more waiting.  No more next times.  No more.

It’s now.  The time is now.

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After I bared it all...

I have struggled with writing this follow up post for awhile.  I have written it, rewritten it, erased it, and started over.  One reason is because I still feel like I am walking through this journey, so it felt a little premature to be offering advice as to how to conquer it.  Secondly, I had such an AMAZING response to the last post, I sort of felt like there was no way I could live up to that again so I might as well stop the whole blogging thing with a bang, right?! :)

Lastly, though, I have struggled with writing this because in light of the current events around the globe, this topic seems so superficial all of a sudden…like what does feeling beautiful have to do with anything in the long run. 

However, I have been reading pretty much every article I can get my hands on these days in regards to the events in Iraq, Syria, Gaza, and even in Ferguson, MO. There is some serious and heartbreaking stuff going on.  I have literally stayed up in the night thinking about it and praying about it.  Yet, despite all of that, I still have this thorn in my side so to speak.  It haunts me and taunts me and at times even debilitates me.  It begs to steel my joy, my confidence, my peace, and even at times my faith.  

And unfortunately after reading so many of your messages and emails, I know this is true for more people than just me. 

So even though my plight of feeling beautiful is NOTHING compared to what women are facing RIGHT THIS MOMENT in the aforementioned places, I know that I can be of no help if the enemy continues to press me down with the lie that I am not beautiful.  I want to be strong. I want to be active. I want to fight.  I want to live life and life to ABUNDANCE! I want to be a part of bringing beauty back into this broken and fallen world.  I can’t do that with my face in the dirt.  

You can’t either.

Therefore, for whatever it is worth to you here is what I am learning about feeling beautiful.  And guys (big shout out to you because I seriously thought only girls read my blog…so boys for the win!)…guys these things go for you too.  Many of you struggle with insecurities based on your looks.  So this is for you too!

1. For starters, we need to stop critiquing and/or criticizing the people around us.  I really don’t care if that person is your next door neighbor, your sister, your ex-boyfriend, or someone famous on TV.  The more we liberally (and loudly) criticize each other, the more convinced we become that we are being criticized too.  We assume every person we come in contact with is judging all of our flaws.  Also, by continually judging and criticizing even strangers in front of our kids, we are proving to them that society is right…how you look does matter.  We continue to perpetuate the lie.

           2. We need to participate in things we are passionate about.  Play a sport.  Sing in a choir.  Go for a hike.  Draw. Paint. Cook. Write. Read. Fiddle around in a workshop. Volunteer with an organization you love. Help out at an animal shelter.  Whatever it is you are passionate about, find as many opportunities as possible to do it!

The other day I had a chance to share with our staff of about 60 people at our retreat.  I was super nervous about it.  Speaking in public doesn’t really bother me too much (I find making small chit chat to a small group of strangers much more intimidating).  So it wasn’t that so much as having to speak in Spanish and about a topic that I felt super passionate about it, but totally inadequate to be the one actually sharing about it.  A couple of days later, though, my husband and I were just sharing a quiet moment together when he told me how beautiful he found me while I was speaking.  He said he was so totally captivated by me and just found me absolutely breathtaking.  

Now maybe for some of you, your spouses say that kind of mushy gushy stuff all of the time.  But mine doesn’t it.  He is more of a show your love kind of guy rather than say it with words. So this was pretty out of the ordinary.

But, then it all seemed to make sense to me.  I was radiating beauty to my husband not because of what I wore or how I fixed my hair or anything like that.  I radiated beauty in that moment because I was passionate and alive.  I was speaking about something that I love dearly, and it showed on every part of my being.

Hello people!  

Beauty is so much more than something physical and tangible! Beauty is an essence.  It is a feeling. It isn’t momentary. It is at times indescribable.  It captivates you.  It makes you feel alive.  It begs you to come back for more.

Beauty is so much more than a pretty face and a great body.

           3. Our ultimate example of beauty is Christ and His sacrificial love for us. His torn, broken, and lifeless body on the cross is the ultimate and best example of beauty.  Not because his body was beautiful but because He IS BEAUTIFUL. His love for us beautiful. 

If I want to feel more beautiful, I need to know Christ more.  The more I know Him, the more I love Him. The more I love Him, the more I will be like Him…and the more people all around me are going to see His beauty.  I am His vessel.  He is my potter. I am His clay. 

The more I make it about me. The less beautiful I am going to feel.  I am going to see my flaws, my imperfections, and my lack.  But, the more I see Him…the more I love me. 

I am beautiful because the Christ that lives in me is beautiful.  I am enough because He says I am enough.

May these truths become alive in you today.  May they penetrate every part of your being. 

Get your face out of the dirt.  Stand tall.  This world needs beauty.  This world needs life.  I want to be a messenger of both. 

You are beautiful.

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Baring it all...

So I am here visiting my folks for a few weeks.  It has been SO nice.  Even though it requires more "mommy energy" as Hubby isn't joining me until half through the visit, it has been nice to think about something other than our ministry in Guatemala.  Don't get me wrong....I love what we do. But, lets face it.  I need to think about (and talk about) something else once in a while.  It has been nice to do that here.

Today, though, I was doing a little cleaning and rearranging.  I always have a ton of mail to go through and organize.  Plus as we buy stuff we need to take home, there ends up just being different piles everywhere. 

My type A personality could no longer handle the clutter this morning, so I had to start making some moves.  And while doing so I found this beauty...

My high school yearbook...senior year no less.  Let the fun times begin. 

I then proceeded to spend WAY too much time looking through the pictures, reading what my old high school friends wrote, and just overall reminiscing about the "good times."  Because really...I actually really enjoyed my high school experience. 

But, then I came across this one...

Yep that's me.  I was Prom Queen.  It was my "crowning" moment...pun intended. 

But, before you start making all kinds of assumptions about what kind of girl I was in high school, let me tell you something else about my senior prom.

I won prom queen, yes, but only weeks before said prom I was the only person in my circle of friends that didn't have a date.  Nope.  Not a single offer.  I was feeling humiliated and extremely sad to say the least.  It isn't like I had a whole bunch of other dates to any of the other dances either.  I usually went with good guy friends.  But, unlike those dances, prom you are expected to actually take someone you are interested in...a real date of sorts...someone you are romantically linked with. 

So there I was three weeks away from my senior prom, nominated for prom queen, but without a date in sight.  Thankfully, it didn't all end sad because one of my good guy friends from church took me.  I don't think he was even planning on going but when his parents found out from my parents that I didn't have a date, he stepped up to the plate.  He was a lovely date, and we had a lovely time, but I am not going to lie...that feeling, albeit 14 years ago, of not having anyone "want" to take you to your senior prom still stings.

Because here's the thing you may not know about me...

I have always been really insecure about not being "pretty."

There I said it.

I have never considered myself pretty.

Sure my yearbook is filled with beautiful messages about me being the "sweetest girl" or the "most positive person I have ever met."  One of my teachers told me if she could have chosen another daughter, she would have chosen me.  One boy called me "the closest thing to perfect I have ever met."  One of the administrators at the school said, "Sara, you are so influential.  You have had such an impact on everyone in this school."

14 years later, those comments can still bring tears to my eyes.  I am far from perfect...definitely not the sweetest girl...and for sure not the most positive person you have ever met.  Just ask my husband.  Nevertheless, their words touch me and remind me about how many wonderful people I got to do life with during those years.

But do you want to hear the ugly truth about those messages.  When I was 18 and reading them, the thing that struck me the most was that in the midst of all those lovely comments and letters from my dear friends and classmates, not a one called me "pretty" or "beautiful." 

And it was something I just couldn't get over.

Here's the worst part. I am 32 years old now...a far cry from 18, and I am still not over it.  

I still want to be beautiful. 

I still look at other girls walking down the street and wish I looked like them.

I still cry when I try on clothes in the dressing room (like two days ago when I finally had to break down and buy shorts because I had forgotten how stinkin hot it gets here).  

I cried this morning when I got on the scale. 

I cry when I am sweating on the treadmill, thinking about all my friends whose "baby weight" seemed to just melt away with nursing.  

I have even secretly cried in the restaurant of a bathroom because I couldn't order what I really wanted from the menu because I knew it would be too fattening.

Here is the big one...

I even cry sometimes because my husband is so small and often times I feel like a hippopotamus standing next to him.

Wow that hurt even typing it.

Why, might you ask, am I "baring it all" in the middle of cyberspace where words cut like a knife and can cause deeper wounds than any physical weapon ever could?

Because I am tired.

I am tired of spending 32 years fighting the same battle and crying the same tears.

I am tired of feeling like the ugly duckling in the middle of swans.

I am tired of feeling like my only "assets" are my brains and "personality."

I want to feel beautiful.  I want to really for once in my life BELIEVE that I am beautiful.

Because I have a daughter.  A smart, feisty, strong, independent, loving, funny, beautiful daughter who is watching me.  I am her compass.  If I don't think I am beautiful, how in the world am I ever going to convince her that she is. 

Insecure mothers grow insecure daughters.

I looked in the mirror this morning, and you want to know what I saw? I saw an overweight, acne prone, round faced lady.  I didn't see beauty. 


The cycle stops with me.


I honestly don't even know where to start.  This battle is big.  You can't just expect to battle a monster that has been harassing you for 32 years with your same old bag of tricks. 

And I can't do it alone.

I need your help.  My daughter deserves better as do all the daughters and little girls everywhere that are growing up in homes everywhere...all over the world thinking they are ugly and have no hopes of ever feeling otherwise.

Because here is the thing folks.  We can talk till we have no breath telling these girls that it isn't what is on the outside that matters. We can tell them that God only cares about the heart. We can even tell them that beauty is subjective and what is beautiful for one isn't going to be for another.

But for the girl who has never felt that she was truly beautiful on the outside, it is going to be really hard for her to hear those words and believe you.  She knows better.  Deep down she wants to be beautiful on the inside and the OUTSIDE. She secretly watches the "pretty girls" and wishes she was one of them.  She analyzes and criticizes every part of her body until she has such a distorted picture of herself that she no longer can distinguish between the lie and the truth.

We can't keep shoving this topic under the rug. We can't keep offering a few scripture verses and hope it will go away.

I am a 32 year old woman who battles this monster EVERY SINGLE DAY.  I know the truth but somehow in this one area of my life, it hasn't penetrated to my heart.

I open myself up to you today reader because I need your help....and maybe you even need mine.  So let's do this together.

Our daughters deserve more.  We deserve more.  I refuse to stand by while society dictates to me how I should feel about myself.  I won't do it anymore.

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