How I Got Here

For the past week or so, I've been thinking about a rough time I had a few years back.  I think confession is good for the soul, and honestly, this period of time has been knocking around in my head for a while, so I'm thinking it is time I share about it.  I'm praying that I don't sound too whiny and that you see this as what it is: a time in my life that I've learned from and I hope you can too.

It wasn't all that long ago.  My first two babies were little, and I was overwhelmed.  They are only 16 months apart, so everything felt crazy and new and like I wasn't doing anything right.  I was tired.  I was also faced with a lot of emotions that I couldn't really recognize and didn't really know how to process.

I am a surprise stay at home mom.  When I was pregnant with our first baby, I was a full time teacher, and we assumed I would go back to work a few months after she was born.  And then I got really super sick, and God intervened in a HUGE way and, suffice it to say, I am a stay at home mom.  (Ok, that was a VERY abbreviated version of that story.....I might share more about that topic in another post, but right now, those are the details you need to know!)  

And I didn't know how hard it was going to be. 

 I didn't realize that I would be the one grocery shopping, so I could essentially buy whatever the heck I wanted to indulge on (in the SUV on the way home from the store, sometimes), and I didn't realize I could eat up a ton of stuff and no one would really know.  

I didn't realize how much I would miss working, and I didn't realize how much guilt I carried for having those feelings.  I didn't know how a person could be so grateful (to be alive, to be a mom, to be at home) and so lonely at the same time. I didn't know how much I would miss my co-workers.

I didn't realize how good hot, buttered white bread toast would taste when my kitchen was a mess and my baby wouldn't nurse well.    

I didn't realize that the perfect farmhouse on 15 acres would feel like a jail some days.

I didn't know that having two babies who clung on me all the time would make me really yearn for company....from grown ups, who didn't spit up, and who wiped their own nether regions.

I didn't realize that Snickers really DO satisfy.....in a really awful, unfulfilling, short-term sort of way.  

There were a lot of new things in my life then.....lots of transition and figuring things out.  There was a lot of failure and tears.  And the only way I dealt with it was FOOD.

Food was my friend when I needed someone to talk to.

Food was the peace and quiet when everyone was crying for me.

Food was the steady in my new world.

Food was entertaining when laundry and dishes were boring.

Food tasted good.

Food was also my enemy.  My kids were allergic to almost everything then, and I had to be so nit-picky careful about what they ate and who got what plates and who had the rice milk and how to plan a menu when everyone (but me) was allergic to all these random things.  I was constantly having to think about food, as part of my "job" of mothering.  I couldn't ignore it....they needed me to be on top of it.  But thinking about there food led me to thinking about my food.....mmm, what would I eat next?!

And I indulged and ate and pacified myself with whatever I could find.


It has taken me a few years to even see how sad and lonely I was then.  When my husband's new job moved us to a new state, I made some changes....I sought fellowship, I latched onto the people around me, and I was getting the hang of motherhood (although, who EVER gets the hang of it fully?!).
But I still gravitated toward food....when my husband had a business trip, when the kids were extra whiny, when I was bored, when I was pregnant again (I mean, the baby's gotta eat, right??).

So, I ate, and I got fat.  I never looked at a scale, because "People should love me for me!" But this weight on me is my fault.  I'm not fat because I've had four kids.  It isn't their fault, and I never EVER want them to think that I, in some way, blame them for the way I look.  Yes, our bodies change when we are pregnant and they are never quite the same after.  That is part of being a mom.  The WEIGHT....that is MINE, not theirs.  They did not force me to handle my problems with food.  I did.

Even if everything had been perfect, I still would have sought out food.

I did this to myself, and I have to make the changes to remedy the situation.   If I don't accept that this is MY deal, then how can I actually make a change?  I mean, if it were my parents' fault or if my husband should shoulder some of the blame, then how can I make the change?  My progress would be reliant on someone else fixing something.  As it is, no one can do that.  I have to.

And I have.  I have spent time confessing my sins to God.  I've been honest with myself (finally) and confessed to my strong, perfect, understanding Heavenly Father that even though He's always been there--on my most overwhelming days....on my lonely days....on the failure days--I've turned away from Him and looked to food to fill the emptiness.  This process means that I'm repenting often and having lots of "trench" moments....lots of prayers from the pantry, asking God to help me to say no to myself.  This process has been so much more spiritual than I ever would have thought.  Who knew making better food choices and trying to exercise more would actually draw me close to God and make me examine my heart?

On the other side of confession, I have found that God really does love us in whatever state we are in.  He's shown me SO MUCH over the past few months.  And that is really what I'm doing here....telling what God has done.  So, I wanted you to know where I've come from, so you can see what He's doing in where I am now.  

16Come and listen, all you who fear God,

and I will tell you what he did for me.

17For I cried out to him for help,

praising him as I spoke.

18If I had not confessed the sin in my heart,

the Lord would not have listened.

19But God did listen!

He paid attention to my prayer.

20Praise God, who did not ignore my prayer

or withdraw his unfailing love from me.

                                                 Psalm 66

It's Only Fair

Really, you have to know that I am NOT doing this alone.  There is just no way that I could lose weight without some help.  So I'm going to give credit where credit is due.  I am NOT a paid spokesperson (but, boy, wouldn't that be nice!) and I'm not out to publicly endorse or defame weight loss companies or authors.  But here is what is working for me:

Weight Watchers.....I'm a point-counting, meeting attender who needs the structure and accountability of a program like WW.  Some people do Atkins or paleo or SouthBeach.  I don't know a thing about those.  I tried WW and it worked (when I do my part), so I'm sticking with it.  My secret goal is to be one of those "lifer" weigh-in ladies OR to get my own commercial with Jennifer Hudson.  We could do a duet....www.weightwatchers.com

"Made To Crave" by Lysa TerKeurst .....It has been a wonderful, encouraging, convicting, Biblically true book that has been challenging my heart and mind.  She makes me cry on a regular basis, because she often says what is deep in my heart....or on the tip of my tongue! www.madetocrave.org

My "Friends"......Every week, after weigh-in, I post my progress on Facebook.   Some people think I'm nuts, others probably skim right by that update in their news feed, but those who comment and/or "like" have built me up, encouraged me, and been a source of accountability.  Oh, and heck NO, I don't put my weight on FB!  I just put how much I've lost (or gained, as has been the case more times than I care to admit).

My Husband......who is a life-long athlete, a Division I All American athlete in college who went on a full athletic scholarship, who runs marathons, has completed an Ironman, and just generally looks good in EVERY dern piece of clothing he owns!  It can be frustrating to feel like the ugly duckling, the wife of Jack Sprat, etc...but the truth is, he loves me--not "skinny me" or "chubby me", just me.  On my yucky days, he loves me, and on my "skinny jeans and knee boots" days, he loves me.  He understands that this is important to me, and he carefully encourages me (because what husband is dumb enough to get too gung-ho about your wife going to WW!?).   He also deals with my hungry and crabby mood swings.

So, there you have it.

I'm not alone.

Traveling "Light"

I'm on a journey.  It is a journey I've been on longer than I originally thought.  Yes, there was a day when I was sick of myself, sick of putting one more pair of jeans on the pile in my closet for clothes that had become too small.  Yes, there was a day I signed up for WW and sheepishly stood on the scale while a stranger wrote down my weight.  I wanted to cry.  I did cry, in the van, on the way home.  But that wasn't the beginning of this journey.  The journey started years before.  I don't actually know when it started, or where.  I don't know what triggered me to turn to food when I was sad and lonely, angry or stressed.  But I did.  And whenever this journey started, God knew that He was going to use it to draw me in, that He wouldn't leave me ill-equipped.  I thought I was shamefully and embarrassingly bad, but He has other things for me.

So, I'm going to write about it.   Along the way, I have been blessed to see I'm not alone in this journey.  There is a beautiful and bountiful number of people who know where I am, know where I've been, because they are there too.

These will be travel logs on my journey to something new.  I hope this is encouraging and that you recognize yourself in my thoughts.  But not only that.... I hope you see a God Who loves you fully and Who won't waste anything in our lives.  I hope you see Him as the Source of all the good stuff you read here, and I pray He receives all the glory and honor from wherever this journey leads.