A Different Perspective

This morning dawned dark, foggy and spooky. I have to use the work spooky because tomorrow is Halloween, but it really did feel spooky. I drove down Florissant Road and was struck by how difficult it was to see the road, even with the streetlights. And then I saw them, dark shapes shuffling across the pavement. These spectral anomalies were barely visible but as I got closer I saw that they were merely teenagers, risking their lives to get to school. Brave souls!

The highway was shrouded with thick clouds and felt otherworldly. With the sun absent, I found it difficult to gather my bearings. From high above the slick streets I saw strange, UFO shaped lights blaring through the milky film. Were we getting visitors from another planet? No, they are the street lights that hover over Highway 270. Normally these lights go unnoticed. I mean to say, I appreciate how they illuminate the street but never actually look at the lights themselves. But with the fog, they were startling. They peered through the mist with bright rays that reached out like tendrils. I admit it took a great deal of willpower to turn my eyes back to the road so I didn't crash my car.

This morning I had a completely different perspective on my way to work. The darkness combined with thick fog transformed my morning commute. It reminded me that often my perspective changes when hardship descends on my life. If a simple change in lighting can change the way I see things, how much more potent is emotional darkness?

When we are despairing, everything feels heavier. Simple joys are beyond our comprehension and pain is like thick, heavy fog. It distorts our vision and we can't see things we once thought were true. Happiness and contentment are like the blue sky and white fluffy clouds, gone. Even though we know they exist, they don't register.

In these moments of clarity I remember that God is like the streetlights. He is always there. But I see him differently through the lens of pain. I'm content when he is lighting the way and rarely look up to say "thanks!" But when things go sour, that light gets a little spooky. It is alien, even threatening. I am not ashamed to say it even makes me angry. I shake my fists at the sky and say, "What the heck? My life is supposed to be smooth sailing. I don't like this fog!"

But have you ever risen on a blue sky sunny morning after a long period of rain? What goes through your mind? I always think, "How beautiful! How lovely! I am so glad to see the sun again." And my heart lifts with joy. It seems trite to say we can't enjoy the sun without a little rain. But I find it rings true. Dark, foggy mornings don't last forever. The sun burns them away post haste. And this morning I thought to myself, "Emotional darkness is the same. When the time is right, God will burn it away. I just have to trust him."

Also, the perspective I glean while moving through pain is priceless. I find that I learn the most important lessons when I walk through seasons of pain and hardship. I carry this knowledge with me to use for future hardship. And when I encounter other souls who are suffering, I can share these lessons as well. But most importantly, I find that I encounter the great love of Jesus most intimately when I am suffering. This is a mystery to me but something I feel in my body so potently it cannot be denied, even if people think I'm strange.

I am 1.5 days into sacrificing my favorite foods to see if it will help my body feel better. I am hopeful. I see a little speck of light in the darkness. One step at a time, one moment to the next, I am trusting the sun is still out there and one day I will experience white fluffy clouds again. The good news is, God is with me. I sense him in ways I can't explain. And I am glad.

Taking Control One Minute at a Time

The affect that food has on our bodies cannot be overestimated. It is the fuel that feeds our cells. As such, what we put into our mouths matters. Everyone knows this on some basic level. As such, many people joke about junk food by saying, "I know it's not good for me, but I'm going to eat it anyway." This statement is usually followed by a nervous chuckle. But how many people actually take the time to analyze how food affects their bodies? We have become accustomed to popping pills (i.e. anti-acids) because we don't want to face the truth about foods that hurt us. It usually takes a life-altering event to make us examine our diet.

Food can be the mechanism by which we console ourselves when life is ugly. Therefore diet is the last thing we want to examine when we are suffering. If suffering is the megaphone through which God speaks, food is the mechanism by which I tune Him out.

At this point, it's not about how much weight I've gained, but rather, how I seem to have lost all control over what I put into my mouth. Not only what I eat, but what I want to eat. It has consumed my thought life to such an extent that I can't bear it. I have tried to eat this feeling away but it only increases my suffering. And granted there are other external stimuli that I won't share here but I feel compelled to do something drastic to take control of my body. 3 ice cream cones every night isn't fixing me.

We can have the best intentions and still flail. But today, I have prayerfully committed to cut several things out of my diet. Part of this decision is in response to the crippling depression(which is aggravated by intense sugar intake). I want to know if eliminating these things will help me feel better. Another part of me wants to lay these things at the altar of self-conceit and say, "I have no power but that which God gives me and I'm going to trust Him to help me" if for no other reason than putting myself first has not been working.

But rather than focus on what I can't have, I am instead choosing to discover some foods I have not tried before. I have decided to have fun and reinvent my diet. And I am committing to this for 2 weeks. I may or may not report as I go through these two weeks, depending on how I feel. But I will report at the end of the two weeks. And I am not going to cheat.

One minute, one hour, one day at a time. Sometimes this is all we can and should plan for. We never know when this day will be our last. And it can be very overwhelming to think about cutting things out "forever." Also, I choose not to focus on the suffering, but rather, on my response to it. And by golly, today, I feel empowered.

Who is with me? Can anyone make a commitment to cut something from their lives that they are very attached to? Something that is hurting them in some fundamental way? Not forever…just 2 weeks. And replace it with something beneficial? A grapefruit? 15 minutes of exercise? An avocado! A smile for the person that perpetually scowls at you at work? And then report back on November 13th? Maybe you could sacrifice a negative attitude or your quick temper and replace it with a banana? Goofy, I know. But symbolism is powerful.

Today is Tuesday, October 29th. And it is a beautiful, courageous, and fruitful day. Today, I replaced ice cream with pepper/lime cashews. And it was totally worth it.

Treasure Hunting

Winter has descended like a cold smack to the face. I was irritated as I dug through the attic this morning, trying to find a winter coat. And then, while clutching the steering wheel with my frozen fingers, because who knows where in the world my gloves are, the reality of the dark and dreary days ahead hit me. I can't escape. I am going to have to walk through winter, like it or not.

It would be easy in this situation to put on my "grumpy face" and scowl at everyone I meet. I mean, I'm suffering here. When winter hits, the only exposure to the sunshine I receive is on the weekends. This does not bode well for someone with seasonal affective disorder. My whole mood declines in the winter, and not just for one day. So when cheery people stop by my cube at work I have to resist the urge to poke them in the eye.

Even worse I'm totally burned out on exercise and on my healthy diet. I need to shake things up but can't seem to find the time to plan. So I keep doing crunches, and walking, and I sigh a lot. But this morning I realized something, my world may not be filled with sunshine and spring flowers but that doesn't mean I need to have a miserable winter. I simply need to go treasure hunting. There are glimmers of hope and joy everywhere. I just have to dig a little harder.

Last weekend I was desperate to be outside. So I took my family to the park with the sole intent of getting out to the wing dams on the Missouri River to look for arrow heads. All kinds of things wash up there and I never know what I will find. Of course, the paths were all overgrown(waist-high) and there was "quick sand" (mud) but we persevered and made it. And what a delight it was.

Wing dams are made up of limestone and constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers. They are built to slow down the river for barge traffic. From afar they are unsightly and the Missouri Department of Conservation objects to them because they interfere with the natural habitat of the river. But aside from all of that, they are fascinating. We spent some time combing through the rocks and crevices. I kept finding pieces of glass and exclaiming "Sea glass!" only for my husband to say, "river glass!" Smooth pieces of glass brushed smooth by the waves is "sea glass" to me. And, it gives me the feeling that I'm at the ocean instead of a muddy old river. We found many pieces of petrified wood, which is a great treasure! And while we didn't find any arrow heads, I came away with my pockets jangling and a fossilized jawbone(with teeth!) of some unfortunate beast. All in all, a good time was had by all. Until we realized walking in was the easy part.

My youngest is diabetic and had low blood sugar. Even though we had a treat, he was unable to walk through the tall weeds due to fatigue and weakness. I hoisted him on my back and carried him out. And that is when I realized, once again, how glad I am to be healthy. I can carry my 50 pound child when he can't carry himself.

There will always be bleak times in my life. And I can choose to focus on the dark and ungainly, or I can go on a treasure hunt. I can and should look for the beautiful things in life and focus intently on their splendor for that is certainly better than wallowing in the muck of despair.

How about you? Feeling down in the dumps because the days are shorter and colder? How about a treasure hunt? I put my mementos on my desk at work in a special dish my boss picked up in Tanzania. And every time I look at them I'm encouraged. Remembering a beautiful day with my family is a treasure indeed.

Why bother?

It's dark. It's cold. And I'm hungry. Okay, I'm not really hungry, but eating makes me feel better. So why shouldn't I self-medicate? After all, life is short. I should celebrate today and who cares about the consequences? Not me! I'd rather stay in bed, where it's cozy and warm. The outside world is a cruel place, full of people who expect me to work and make dinner and not be fat. These people expect me to make cookie cake(birthdays again) and not eat it all. These people are definitely the enemy.

Okay, so my children aren't really the enemy. It just feels that way sometimes. So who is the real enemy? Well, that would have to be me. I am convinced that I argue with myself more than with any other person on the planet, though my husband might dispute this fact. Whether trying to decide how much, if any dessert I will eat or whether or not to work out and what kind of workout I will do, I am always at war with my body. Worry, guilt, fear. These are the mainstays of my life. How I counteract these powerful feelings determines not only my quality of life, but who I am on the inside.

I am reminded of a movie I saw a long time ago. It is called, Leaving Las Vegas. Nicholas Cage's character is an alcoholic. He has lost his family and is tired of fighting against his illness. He decides to move to Las Vegas and let the alcohol win. He befriends a prostitute and a strange friendship begins. The movie ends when he dies. It's been many years since I watched it but it stuck with me. His selfishness stuck with me. And yet, I understand why he made that choice. I don't think it was a right choice, but I do understand it. We all have the capacity to self-destruct. Self-destruction is choice.

On days like today I question why I persist in this healthy lifestyle routine. After all, it is more of a routine than anything at this point. I'm in the habit of exercising and making healthy food choices. But most people don't understand the war that rages in my heart every time I am faced with food of any kind. I am fully aware at any given moment that I could go to Taco Bell, order up my favorite meal and chase it with chocolate. No one is going to stop me. And if I don't care, and since it is my body, why shouldn't I?

Today I am going to remind myself why I am fighting this battle. Keep reading. This might apply to you too.

1) My life matters. Not only to my husband and children, but to those lives I interact with on a daily basis. As if this weren't important enough, my life matters to me. Would I want to live with myself if I gave up? Would I respect me? Wouldn't I be wasting this entire journey of getting to know myself, and learning how my body works? Wasn't I so happy when I discovered losing weight was not impossible?

2) My choices matter. If I stopped exercising and eating right, I would personally experience a decline in health. I am quite certain I would start to get sick on a regular basis again. But say I could live with that. After all, Burrito Supremes are mighty tasty. And say I could live with gaining all the weight back. If I was content with that, why should it matter? It's my body. It's my life. My decision to eat is just that, my decision. But the simple truth is, my choices impact the lives of those around me. When people like Melissa McCarthy make being fat funny, they perpetuate the lie that being fat is fun. I know better. So if I choose to jump off the healthy bandwagon, I am, by that very decision, telling people it's okay to hurt their bodies with food. It may be my body, but my choices definitely affect the lives of those around me.

3) I want to be in control of my body, not the other way around. This may sound simplistic, but before I got healthy I used to get what I call "the sugar shakes." I had to have candy with me at all times. I had stashes everywhere. If I ran out I would get sick and shaky. As a result of eating candy all the time, I rarely experienced true hunger. This made eating not as much fun. Which sent me in pursuit of more savory foods, which made me fatter. I was always seeking a way to make eating an even more over the top experience. I was a slave to my desire for more and "better" food. At the expense of everything else. I am at my ugliest when I am serving my desire for food. Food was more important than my husband, my children, my job, and most importantly, my relationship with God.

For me, self-discipline enables me to live the way I truly want to live. Do I hate fighting with myself? Yes. But self-indulgence followed to its logical end is loathsome. I can say this because I've experienced it. Much the same way Nicholas Cage's character in Leaving Las Vegas left a bad taste in my mouth, so does going back to the way I used to live.

I sometimes wonder what this struggle will look like when I'm 50 or 60 years old. Will it be as hard? Will I still be sensitive to people who struggle to stay healthy? Will I have reverted to "pre-healthy" Margaret? I have a very definitive struggle with emotional eating. I get sad, tired or stressed and I run towards food. But I am not unique. And I am not alone. Some days, like today, I don't want to fight anymore. It's old now.

But it's worth it. After all, I am still fighting. And that's all that really matters.

When Life is Great...

Fridays are happy days. The Cardinals won the NLDS and I was there in person to see it with my best kid. I was talking to a friend at work today and said, "I was close enough to see Jadi's..." He finished my sentence...."Tattoos?" I said, "Well, I wasn't going to say tattoos." He said, "Well, we'll go with that." It was such a fun night. The best thing about the night was I won green seat tickets from my work.

Yes, that is David Freese. I was close enough to see his tattoos too. :)

Now if you don't know what green seat tickets are, they come with access to the Cardinals Club, which includes an all you can eat buffet. I made the decision to eat what I wanted because I was celebrating. They had the best green beans I have ever tasted and a corn chowder that is still making my mouth water. I kept walking around telling the staff "thank you" and "this food is amazing" and they were all laughing at me. I guess that's not customary behavior for people who can afford those kinds of tickets.

The problem is, I was set loose at an all you can eat buffet. This is paradise for a food addict like me. I will spare you the play-by-play. Needless to say, it is a night that will go down healthy-living infamy.

I had the great pleasure to sit by a girlfriend from work and her husband. She happened to tell him about my weight loss and he looked at me and said, "No way. How'd you do it?" I like how she mentioned this as I was stuffing my face with chocolate ice cream. "Well, I didn't eat sugar....and..." I just felt stupid. I felt like a Christian caught cursing.

And just like that I'm derailed. There are always a million excuses for me to celebrate with food and only a handful of reasons not to. And fitting into my favorite skirt isn't very compelling when faced with handmade cannoli's. Even worse, I don't feel very guilty. If ever there was an occasion to celebrate with food, that was it.

What I will say is that I had more fun dancing and cheering and acting like a crazy person than I have in a long time. My son was embarrassed which means I did it right. My friend from work said the people in the Jones box thought her seatmate should settle down. It was simply, a wonderful time.

Because I am generally healthy I was able to do all of this without breaking a sweat. And I felt that while I was there. I never got out of breath from dancing too hard nor did I have to sit down because I was too tired. Granted there was a lot of adrenaline flowing, but it was fantastic nonetheless. And this is why I will never stop trying to stay healthy. I love how good it feels to dance and play and not be burdened with my weight. I have worked so long and so hard, and it was worth every tear, every missed snack and every painful workout to get to this place.

Tomorrow I am really looking forward to my walk. I may even jog a little. I get to tour Ferguson and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Tonight, I celebrate life. I am so happy to be alive and blessed beyond measure.

The Consequences of a Whim

Do you know that moment where you feel a whim coming on? It seems like a good idea so you take the first step. And then you think, hm, I don't know if that was wise but I'm one step in, I may as well take two. 50 steps later you gasp at the carnage but you can't go back. You're in it up to your chin. That, my friends, is how you accidently cut 8 inches off your hair.

It's not like I don't have practice being an idiot. I do this with food all the time. Raisins are my supreme downfall. At least with cookies I have the good sense to stop after I eat a couple because I know they are bad for me. But raisins? They are kind of healthy, so I generally keep eating until I consume the whole box. I am definitely challenged when it comes to impulse control.

Here’s the thing, I need to stop and be more intentional. I am a very busy person and generally rush from one thing to the next without a lot of thought. I am learning that I must stop and think before I make decisions. I just really wish I didn’t have to learn everything the hard way.

All of that to say, I really do try to learn from my mistakes. And I endeavor to make better choices. And with that said, here is my new "Margaret-do".

After all, a bad haircut isn't the end of the world.

Today is a good day. A beautiful day. And tomorrow, shoot, it's going to be even better.

Birthday of doom

Well, each day we wake up is a gift, right? Each day this side of the grave we should count our blessings. That's what I say. And then someone decides to kill me with cookie cake.

My husband was soooo good this year. I told him no cake and he listened. He loves me like that. And then there are my co-workers. They care about me and decide to lavish me with love via donuts and cookie cake. Well, I survived. My pants don't fit any more, but hey, that's why I saved my fat clothes, right? (It still feels wrong to complain about being fat when so many people in the world are starving.)

I actually had 4 days of birthday, which is fantastic. It is truly awesome to be loved. I got beautiful cards, including a prayer journal from a new friend at work. It really was a great week, which culminated in a so/so Mexican joint in Maryland Heights called Chihuahua's where my best pal Sheryl treated me to guacamole, super spicy salsa and...

Clapping and shouting whilst wearing a glitzy sombrero and hoping I wasn't contracting head lice. Sheryl says, "You only live once." Well, she's right.

And then there is my boss, who made me cry when he sent these...

All in all, life is good. And I was happy as a Junebug in, well, June. Until this morning when I climbed from my relaxing bath and decided to trim up the dead ends of my hair. Then my day went from great to dear-God-what-in-the-world-was-I-thinking quicker than you can say, "Did your head get stuck in the lawn mower?

to be continued...