Mushroom Hunting

It's my favorite time of year, mushroom season! My brain dances with hope as every warm and sunny moment I obsess over finding the mother lode. This year has been especially rainy and cool and filled with promise. I rub my hands together in anticipation but the real work of mushroom hunting is filled with endless moments of fruitless searching.

Most years I spend hours hiking through the woods only to find a handful of little gray mushrooms. But there is something about searching that fills my heart with joy, until it doesn't, and I give up for the year.

Because hiking for hours and days through the woods can be somewhat frustrating I try to focus on the wonderful things I do find. That way I don't feel like I've lost hours of my life crunching through dead leaves. This year is no different. The first thing I found was a $20 bill. I didn't even squander it. I used it to buy chicken to feed my family. What a blessing! We also found a box turtle. I usually see lots of these in the spring. They are one of my favorite things to find in the woods, all covered with mud and hungry from hibernation.

I took Friday off work to spend my hours hiking with my favorite son(I'm joking, I don't really have a favorite-and if I did it wouldn't be him, but if I pretend he's my favorite then he will feel special and maybe won't have mommy issues later in life). That trip netted 2 morels. 2. If that wasn't depressing enough we found a deer skeleton. My favorite son insisted on handling the head and waving the spine around. I figured it was important to let him do this. You see, my favorite son loves dead things and Halloween and skeletons. It just didn't seem right NOT to let him handle it. So, in case you were keeping track, he won't have mommy issues, he'll just be a serial killer.

Today was warm and sunny so I made another impromptu trip to the park to hunt. We found a very snappy garter snake who promptly pooped on me. Everyone got a good laugh out of that. We also found a tree frog.

What joy! But my very favoritest thing about mushroom hunting is all the beautiful green things that sprout from the forest floor. If winter is death, Spring is new life. Jack-in-the-pulpit, Dutchman's breeches, Larkspur, Dogtooth Lilies and purple Phlox are everywhere. Sleepy bees drip from these flowers. Their soft fuzzy bodies buzz with energy as they sip nectar from each stem. It seems that they are just as hungry for warm days as I am. Everything glistens with health. The sky is deep blue and I want to roll in the new, soft green grass like my favorite son, who knows nothing of chiggers, ticks and itchy grass. He sees only a carpet ready for tired bodies who are worn out from hiking through the woods taking in all of the spring goodness.

So even though we didn't find any mushrooms today, I am content. I got to spend time with my 3 favorite kids as we explored the great outdoors. I am so full of fresh air and sunshine my sides are splitting.

I'm glad I never grew up. I'm glad hiking through the woods still fills me with wonder. I'm glad I'm healthy and no longer carrying an extra 140 pounds around so that I can actually climb up muddy hills without gasping. I'm glad I can have a discussion with my number 2 child around rabid beavers and why we don't stick our hands in big holes. After all, beavers eat trees. Imagine the damage they could inflict on soft, chubby flesh.

Life is good. I am blessed. And maybe I'll find the mother lode.....tomorrow. Today, I found a holy tree! And really, what could be better than that?

Comfort

It's a gloomy Gus kind of a day. It's cold. It's foggy. It might rain. It might not rain. For those with curly hair, it's frizzy. For those with straight hair, it's kinky. A gray cloud seems to hang over the head of everyone I meet. I find it rather interesting how the weather can affect our mood.

Yesterday was icky too. Several people at work commented on how crappy their day was. I watched them shuffle from the office last night with shoulders slumped and frowns smeared across their faces. I asked one friend what was wrong and she said, "What isn't?" It seemed that everything had gone wrong yesterday and not just for me, but for many.

Even my kids were cranky. I arrived home to half-done chores, grumpy attitudes and smart aleck responses. "I'll fix them!" I thought. You see, I bought them ice cream for dessert but then denied it due to "bad behavior." Let's just say I didn't win any popularity contests with my kids last night.

But today I'm rethinking that strategy. First, sweets have always been a mood motivator for me. The reason why is that it works. Feed bad? Eat something sweet. It fixes the "bad" in a bad day. Scientific evidence proves that sugar is a mood elevator. So when everyone is having a bad day, shouldn't I give them a treat? It would certainly soothe their strident souls.

I realize I have major food issues, but my food issues are not my children's food issues(as they frequently remind me). I think I sometimes try so hard NOT to pass on my "food as comfort" attitude that I go too far in the other direction. My motto becomes, "deny, deny, deny." I really need to strike a better balance.

God created food to nourish our bodies and I don't think it was an accident that it elevates the chemicals in our brains that lift our mood. Therefore I don't think there is anything wrong with eating to soothe our bodies as long as we don't do it all the time and in quantities that harm us. For example, a hot fudge sundae after a difficult day is ok, but probably not the extra-large jumbo concrete.

It's sad that I so often corrupt the good things in life with my selfish, depraved nature. Everything inside me screams for more and better. Satisfaction always seems just out of my reach, around the corner, one pay grade higher. Is there anything in this world that could fully satisfy my heart?

I came into work with a pretty lousy attitude this morning. I didn't work out because honestly, I didn't feel like it. Then guilt nagged me all the way to work. I settled into my pity party determined that nothing and no one could make me feel better. Then I read my devotional book written by Joni Tada(a paraplegic) and read that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And I remembered that Jesus is the real source of all comfort and peace. If I run to Him when I am sad or lonely or hurting, he will go to the root of the problem and fix it(which He did).

With peace in my heart I can now extend a blessing to my crabby, stubborn, hard-hearted children and give them a sprinkling of grace with a side of chocolate fudge ice cream.

Retreat!

I had the great fortune to attend a Women's Retreat with my church this weekend. I had been looking forward to this getaway for several months and of course it ended much too soon. There is much I could say about the sweet communion such events afford busy women. The opportunity to step away from children, crabby husbands and laundry is so rich why would anyone NOT want to go?

This retreat marked a milestone in my journey to better health. I went to my very first women's retreat exactly 3 years ago. I had decided to change my life and arrived at the retreat only to come face to face with all my demons. Food, food and more food. Pretty food. Sweet food. Salty food. If it was food, it was there. Needless to say I was miserable. I spent much of that first retreat hiding in my room so that no one could see me cry. While there I met a beautiful lady named Maggie who was so kind and caring and helped me to realize I wasn't alone in my suffering. Maggie was there this year too. She mentioned that she felt a little awkward. Boy, could I relate.

There is something strange about being in a large crowd of women. I think this is because women are so often self-conscious. We are guilty of comparing our lives to others, much to our detriment. One woman confided in me that she struggles with feelings of inferiority much as she did in high school. She said to me point blank, "I'm 30+ years old. Why do I still struggle with feeling like I'm not good enough? I feel like I don't fit in."

Maybe our brainwaves short circuit a little bit in the presence of so much estrogen, but I too was tempted to compare myself to others as I watched my friends eat chocolate, cookies and other amazing treats. They all looked like they were size 2 and never struggled with food a day in their lives. I wanted to scream, "It's not fair!" But screaming has never really been an effective way to get rid of such feelings so I abstained. Instead, I took time to be alone and focus not on others but on myself and my own heart.

Food has always been an idol for me. It's one of those things I just can't get away from. And it's not fair, really, that I can't eat whatever I want and not gain weight. But food is not really the problem. My heart is the problem. My wicked, selfish, greedy heart desires food above all else. In my flesh I am capable of setting aside reason to worship at the altar of food. And for a while I would be content except that greed is an empty pursuit and has never brought me any happiness. No matter how much I filled my belly I didn't fill my heart. The only thing capable of filling my heart fully is Jesus. He is the one that really satisfies. (Not Snickers)

While at the Women's retreat this year I stood in the kitchen and admired all of the beautiful food that had been so lovingly prepared by many of the women attending. I realized it wasn't fair to resent anyone for enjoying it. The biscotti was so pretty and the cookies smelled so divine that I made a decision not to hate them, but rather to enjoy their presence as they nourished my friends. After all, food is not my enemy. It was wonderful to be there and not compare myself to others, to enjoy the atmosphere for what it was and spend time fellowshipping with my sisters-in-Christ who share my affliction of living in a fallen world. I did not eat anything with sugar in it AND I was happy. Who says God isn't still in the business of making miracles?

I am so thankful for that moment in time though it was not quite 24 hours of respite from my hectic life. And of course I arrived home to baseball games, the rush of making dinner and piles of dirty laundry. It was all waiting for me. But for a moment I stepped outside of my life and joined hands with others like me who struggle and flail and sometimes fall. They don't all struggle with food addiction but there was no question of fitting in for me. I heard many others echo my own feelings of inferiority, depression and despair. And while my estrogen may come from a patch since I no longer have ovaries, but I am mother, sister, daughter, and friend to many women. And I did not once retreat to my room to hide from that. Instead I found joy in embracing it.

When I grow up, I want to be like my dad

My dad has a saying, "Life is hard." I think it to myself a lot. Because life is hard. My dad is this kind, quiet person who never complains. But he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. There is a sorrow etched in his eyes that he never expresses. Much of this has to do with how little praise he has received over the years. He goes to work every day and no one ever tells him he did a good job. His only compensation is his paycheck and somehow that just doesn't seem like enough. But he still quietly goes about his business, pouring himself out for others even when he is exhausted beyond belief. So when he says life is hard, I believe it.

As good as my dad is I don't remember him giving me a lot of praise as a child. I don't think he was withholding it. He was just busy working all the time to put food on the table. For that and many other reasons I soak up praise like a sponge. If someone says something nice to me I light up like a light bulb. For this reason I like to praise others too because I know how good it feels.

I work very hard at my job. My boss is a very busy guy. He would say about me, "Margaret carries a lot of water." Meaning, I can handle a lot. Well, I don't really think I can handle a lot but if I pretend I can and try really hard, sometimes it appears that way. He has nurtured and mentored me into a state of confidence I didn't know I had. He is a very good man. I never take his leadership for granted. Sometimes I am very stretched in the work that I do. In other words, he throws me into the deep water to see if I can swim. To be honest, I don't like the thrashing. But I have come to appreciate that thrashing around in the deep water brings about a certain kind of growth I wouldn't experience wading in the shallow end. I did some serious swimming yesterday and today. I expended every ounce of thought and concentration and somehow survived(again). But something changed today. I had this total confidence about the project I finished that I didn't have before. I just knew it was good. So I was a little surprised when my boss came around and said, "Margaret, you really set the bar high today. What you did was great!" And I could tell by the way he expressed himself that I had saved his bacon in a meeting. I was so proud.

There was a time I would have shrunk back from the stress and hardship at work. I would have thrown up my hands and sulked when I couldn't get past the difficulty. But somewhere along the line I learned how to push through. And I am so thankful I did. Working hard to produce a good result is really rewarding. I honestly didn't need him to give me praise but my goodness was it good to hear it.

Sometimes work is hard and we don't get the credit we deserve(like my dad). For every time my boss praises me, there are 20 times he doesn't. That's just the way it is. Life is hard. But if I have learned anything from my father it's this, work hard, complain less and don't expect people to notice. I should work hard for the simple joy of knowing I did my best. Satisfaction in a job well done is surely it's own reward. I think my dad will probably go to the grave knowing he did the very best he could with what he had. And every one who knows him will agree. As for me, I want to be like my dad when I grow up.

Conquering Food Lust

I woke up at 4:15am this morning. I was up at 3:00am before that and 1:00am before that. I woke because I was uncomfortable. I woke because I was hungry.

Hunger is such a simple thing, relatively speaking. The body runs out of fuel in the stomach and fires some neurons into the brain which signal other pesky organs to groan, namely the stomach which growls like and angry dog. I'm hungry because I began eliminating my bedtime snacks and cutting back on portion sizes. I do this every time I pack on extra pounds and force myself to begin working them off. Every time feels like the first time. It's painful and awful and frustrating. I don't much like to experience hunger.

Some people will say you need to eat when you're hungry but I have learned my body and the only way my body sheds pounds is to go without. Smaller portions=less food in=weight loss. Since I have such an efficient body I really don't need that much food. But my brain doesn't really understand that, even though I am constantly trying to make it listen.

I only say all of this to explain that eating less is a special kind of self-imposed torture for me. My natural state will consume vast quantities of food without batting an eye. And even though I have been waging war against my desire to eat I feel like I am constantly losing. The same way many people take Advil or Tylenol for pain, I take food.

This morning I lay in bed at stared at the red digital display on my alarm clock. 4:15am. 4:20am. 4:27am. And so on and so forth. Until I finally got mad, climbed out of bed and suited up. I walked through Ferguson with my SI belt(that enables me to walk without pain) and listened to Romans and prayed.

Which brings me to my point. Hunger induces a feeling of such discomfort that it drives me to cry out to God. It is the one thing I am completely unable it ignore and powerless to dismiss. It gnaws at my resolve and whispers to me to just give in. I believe that is why fasting can be a very powerful mechanism. It forces us to deal with our bodies in a very basic way. In my case it drives me to the brink of madness in such an acute way that I have to reach out for the only sanity I know, Jesus. And in those moments of helplessness and pain I find clarity. I learn who He is in the middle of the suffering and who I am in my relationship with Him. I ask for His help because I have had no luck facing my food issues alone. Food has never healed the pain in my life. My slavery to it is well documented. The freedom I find in renouncing food for a time, and meditating on the brokenness it induces leaves me in a state of empowerment I don't find any other way.

4:15am was only the beginning of a very long day, one I am eager to put an end to. But I take comfort in knowing I was aware of my life today. I experienced hunger, fatigue, wonder, self-realization and the peace that comes from mastering my body. Today I lived. I didn't just muddle through. I was intentional. I am proud of myself(and not just because I resisted cookies). I am proud for enduring when I could have given in to my food-lust. And THAT is amazing!

(and for those worried I'm starving myself--I'm not. I'm well within my calorie range for height and weight)

Gluttony (and why I think it's a sin)

When I was young everything was black and white. A person was good or bad. An issue was right or wrong. As I've grown older I still see things this way but tend to keep my opinions to myself unless I know the person I am talking to is like-minded. I don't want people to not like me because my opinion is different than theirs. I don't want to hurt their feelings. And, I don't feel that arguing with that person about said belief is going to change how they feel. Now I will be honest, there are a few issues that don't apply. Healthy living is one of them. I will tell just about anybody that I think fast food is evil, sugar is bad for you, and gluttony is sin. Whoops! That last one just slipped out.

Did I say gluttony is sin? And what is sin anyway? Isn't that some old fashioned word that Bible thumping fundamentalists use? Sinners go to hell, right? So it would be really wrong of me to get on my blog and say gluttony is sin and sinners go to hell. Wow. I am a crazed fundamentalist if I ever met one.

Gluttony: excess in eating or drinking, greedy or excessive indulgence.

Sin: an offense against moral law, an action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible, an often serious shortcoming

The thing is, when I was fat(okay, morbidly obese) I didn't want to admit that I thought gluttony was sin because I didn't want to admit my failure in the area of food. After all, good Christians NEVER sin. So I gave a lot of excuses about why I was fat(everyone in my family is fat) why it's so hard to lose weight(I mean, you have to like, eat less pizza). But talk about overeating as sin? NO WAY! But I had this overarching guilt that hung around my neck like a noose. I had condemned myself, sure, but I wasn't going to walk around telling everyone how I felt. I felt bad enough already. But that doesn't change the fact that deep down inside I felt incredibly guilty. But why?

Lot's of people are overweight and don't feel an ounce of guilt. Why me? Well, I'm going to step out on a limb and say it's because I am a follower of Christ. I read the Bible a lot because I think it's awesome. To each his own, right? And one of the Ten Commandments says, "Thou shalt have no other gods before me" and food had become my god. I worshipped it. I turned to food for comfort. I turned to food to fill the empty holes in my heart. I turned to food because I loved it more than I loved God. How can I be a Christian and say that? Well, it's because it's true, AND Christians are sinners.

What? Christians are sinners? I thought they were all perfect and holier than thou and stuff. Well, not really. In fact, not at all.

But the really great thing about being a Christian is I believe when I sin I am forgiven by the very Jesus I follow. That is what makes being a Christian just about the most wonderful thing ever. I sin, He forgives me. It's liberating as all get out. The problem is, once we realize we're sinning, we're supposed to at least try to stop. There's this passage in the Bible(Romans 6) that talks about grace and how just because we are forgiven for sinning, we're not supposed to keep on at it(sinning). For years I struggled with this passage as it related to food because I felt so completely enslaved by my desire to it. And the thing is, it really broke my heart. I felt like a really crappy Christian.

So when I began my journey to better health(I wanted to lose weight) I asked God to teach me discipline. I was weak and I wanted to be strong. How does one do that? Well, they just do it by taking little baby steps until they get stronger. The most awesome thing is that God walked with me the whole time. He saw my desire to change. I knew he saw my heart, that I was putting food before him, and gave me the strength to start saying no to food and yes to a deeper relationship with Him.

When I made the conscious decision to make God more important than food my life was completely transformed. He gave me the strength to say no to the most important thing in my life. For this and many other reasons, I love Him.

I started this blog to inspire people to live a healthier lifestyle but I think I would be remiss to omit the very reason I wanted to change. So I'm throwing this out there.... yes, I believe gluttony is sin, and yes, I'm a sinner(and still a follower of Jesus). But the best news of all, and what really inspires me, is that Jesus loves me anyway. That's what the good news of the gospel is really all about. Forgiveness of sins, relationship with the creator of the universe. I know how flawed I am and so does God. But(and this is the best but of all) He loves me anyway. If that isn't inspirational, I don't know what is.