A Thankful Heart

This morning finds me reflective on the many good blessings I have been fortunate enough to receive this year. My family is all relatively healthy. We are safe and sound in the midst of great trauma. I work for an amazing company, who has been supportive and gracious in various difficult circumstances. But most of all, I am thankful to God that he continues to support me, even when I feel most lost and helpless.

We have watched in horror as our city is destroyed around us. The buildings I walk past every morning smolder in the early sun as my neighbors hide in their homes. The sounds of helicopters buzzing overhead and gunshots ringing out have become common place. It is enough to make anyone bitter as we wait helplessly for some kind of positive outcome. If I choose to focus on this heartbreak I quickly dissolve into a puddle of tears. Where is God? Why does he allow this to happen? Haven't I prayed and prayed for Ferguson to be delivered from this evil? Why hasn't it? Why do these strangers insist on tearing down every good thing the hard-working people of my beloved town have worked so hard to build? Where are the leaders who promised to protect us?

Last night I stretched on my yoga mat in front of the fire. I was cold to the bone and desperately trying to warm up. My youngest son stretched out beside me. "Mom, I want to do a sit up." I dutifully pressed down on his 6-year-old ankles while he squinted and grunted. "I can't do it!" So I asked him to hold my ankles while I showed him how. You see, he had never done a sit-up before. After I showed him how we tried again. This time he did 18 sit-ups. It was amazing to see his wiry little body moving. This strange, strong little man-to-be was trying so hard to be like his mom. I really never consider how great an impact my healthy lifestyle has on my children. Every day they watch me get up and exercise. I think my older kids could care less, but my youngest, who never knew me as a heavy person, wants to emulate me and it makes me so proud of all I've accomplished.

I explained to my son why it is so important for a Juvenile diabetic to exercise. Exercise helps regulate blood sugar in a way no amount of insulin will. I told him that exercise is one of the best ways to care for his body and he was so delighted to hear that, he insisted on working out with me this morning. We put great dents in the yoga mat while the news reporters went on about the new damage in Ferguson, Missouri.

I don't know what the future holds for Ferguson. If I try to think too far ahead I get lost in worries that have no business occupying my thoughts. I know that I love my city and my neighbors. Watching the destruction is kind-of like watching a loved one be devoured by cancer. There is nothing I can do to stop it. I can hope and pray that the illness passes, but right now, I just don't know. I know that good and responsible people are tired of fighting against people who consume without contributing. My neighbors who try to find ways of rebuilding are met with acrimony by those with bitter hearts who desperately want to tear down. Ferguson struggles to overcome the negative by contributing positive stories but those are buried by the larger, more negative narrative. The teeter totter rises and falls, but regardless of effort, the heaviest rider will land and plant his feet while the other is left dangling.

This morning as I jogged around Ferguson I saw people painting the boarded up buildings. Ferguson Optical has a picture of a beautiful tree painted on it. I stopped to say hello to the painter and her friends and told them, “Thank you! It is beautiful.” Then I met another woman who told me Wellspring Church is hosting free Thanksgiving lunch for anyone who wants to participate. Even among the ashes, beauty abounds. That is when I realized my prayers are answered. Yes, there is great evil in the world, but there is also great good. God is here. He loves us, and He shines through the darkness. Today I am thankful for His grace and goodness, even when the hope in my heart flickers. God doesn't shy away from bad neighborhoods or violence. The story of Ferguson doesn't surprise him. I believe he entered this story a long time ago and even though we can’t see Him, his love for us is alive and real.

Today I am thankful for 17 years of good memories in Ferguson, Missouri. I have lived and loved here. I lost 140 pounds walking its streets. I have raised my children here. No matter what the future brings, nothing and no one can take those beautiful memories away from me.

If Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder, Who is that Looking Back at Me in the Mirror?

Obesity is a curse. Ask anyone who's ever been overweight. Not only is it uncomfortable, the social stigma is paralyzing. For those who have sensitive hearts, like me, obesity can feel like a death sentence. I remember climbing into the airplane as one of the last passengers to board only to realize there were no aisle seats left. Everyone on the plane glared at me, "Don't sit here!" while leaning heavily over the center seats. I chose a one in the front row as the occupants to my left and right exhaled. "I'm sorry," I said, and I really was sorry. Those poor people. They would have to spend the next 3 hours cuddling with the fat lady. I tucked my arms over my belly and tried not to breathe. I was shocked when a few minutes into the flight the woman next to me said, "Relax honey. It's okay." She gave me permission to let my arms down and touch her. It was all I could do not to cry.

The next time you look at an obese person, take note of your thoughts. Do you judge them? I promise you, nothing you think is half as bad as what they are experiencing. I was recently at Sam's and spied an obese cashier. My heart hurt just looking at him, but not half as bad as his back, knees and feet must have felt. Imagine how painful it would be to stand for 6 to 8 hours with 400+ pounds of fat sucking you into the earth.

So it was that I found myself at Dale's Music this past week while my son took guitar lessons. I ran into a the friend of a friend, what you would call a casual acquaintance. Fate keeps drawing us together because I have seen her numerous times over the years through an odd sort of timing. The last time I saw her she had lost 60 pounds and was rocking leopard print and spandex. This time she was hiding under the same kind of sweatshirt I wore for years. We "heavy set" women seem to want to spare the casual observer by hiding our extra weight--as if baggy clothes actually make our fat invisible.

I was checking my son's blood sugar(he's a juvenile diabetic) when she sighed and said, "I'm so sorry he has diabetes. I was just at the doctor and my A1C was through the roof!" She confirmed her type 2 status and my heart sank. A1C is the 3 month blood test they do for diabetics to measure how well they are maintaining their blood sugar levels. She then immediately jumped to the weight issue. "I was doing so well," she said. But it got away from me and I gained it all back. My doctor says the weight is killing me and I'm currently under consideration for weight loss surgery."

I wish I knew her well enough to try and hug away her pain. The fear that comes from serious health complications is unbearable. Even worse, the guilt from believing it's all your fault is pure torture.

"A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls." --Proverbs 25:28

I recently found that verse, typed it up and hung it over my kitchen sink. I thought maybe if I put a good reminder in front of my face, it would help keep me from overeating. My friend at Dale's said to me, "You are doing so great!" And I had to tell her the truth. I'm not doing great. I've gained some weight back and I'm fighting like crazy not to gain it all back. Every day is a struggle. And truthfully, weight loss surgery is like putting a band aid on a gaping wound. Just ask Al Roker!

I like to exercise. I like the freedom that comes with wearing clothes from the normal size section. But I promise you, I love to eat more. My world is a constant teeter totter of "if I eat that I must work out this much to keep the calories in balance." It's frustrating, exhausting, heart breaking and, I promise you, not at all easy.

But I don't think my struggle to stay healthy is any different than the struggles of my friends. We all have something we are fighting against, be it cancer, a sick child or a horrible boss. Our lives are a series of trade-offs. We are all cursed in one shape or another. Through circumstances beyond our control we wage war in a world that is seriously broken. We live in, love through and grieve our fallen state. We celebrate the graces and mysteries we encounter every day and cling to hope that someday, somehow our lives will improve.

Tonight I stood at the grocery store(all my important moments seem to center around food) and the woman in front of me smiled and complimented me on my column in The Ferguson Times. She told me, "And, you look great!" I was a little tired, distracted and fretful over something I've already forgotten. The thing is, I have encountered her numerous times on trails in Ferguson and she always inspires me because she is well into her grandma years and she's still running. In fact, she's usually passing me! Her kindness brought a smile to my face and my heart. The cruelest thing I ever felt as an obese person was the belief that people held me in contempt because of my size. So it is not lost on me that people look on me with hope. They assume if I lost the weight and can keep it off, I have somehow solved the unsolvable puzzle. The truth of the matter is this, good health is a combination of luck, determination, healthy habits and grit. Yes, I do feel cursed with an insatiable appetite, but I refuse to be defined or condemned by it. But more important than all of my struggle is the love I experience at the hands of my friends and family. Love salves pain. Kindness binds up all wounds. If hopelessness is the worst thing I experienced as an obese person, love was certainly the most healing sensation of all. We should never let ourselves be defined by our size. Every person on this planet is deeply flawed in some way. Some flaws are just more visible than others.

Today if you are overweight, you are not less of a person because of that one fact. Sure it's reasonable to take stock of your situation and experience the desire to improve it. (I promise you it is not impossible, only difficult.) But never, under any circumstances give up hope. I have lost the weight twice. Every day is a struggle. Right now I'm wearing a size larger than I wore last year at this time. But my waistline is not who I am inside. I am Margaret. And no matter what size I am, I am beautiful. Whoever you are reading this right now...you are beautiful too.