Slowly Processing...

Wow, there has been a lot to think about lately. As I have tried to process through it all, I have only realized that I am not wise enough to process it all, so I'm going to try to lay it out there and pray that the Holy Spirit makes some sense of it. I have so many thoughts rolling around in my head, and somehow I know in my heart that they are all linked together. I just need a moment to process them, to see where they tie together. In warning, this one might be a bit long winded, but I am hoping that it comes to a point, somewhere along the line. Feel free to move on, though, if it's too long-winded for you. I guess this one is much more for me to work things out than anything else. You're free to stick around if you like.

My grandfather wrote to me this week in response to all the buzz of the healthcare reform. While my grandfather and I have profoundly different political views, I deeply respect him as the elder of our family. He has seen things in his lifetime that I cannot fathom, including an amazing advancement of technology, a few wars, more than a few presidents, a Great Depression, and many more dips and rises in the economy through the years, etc. Here is a bit of what he wrote to me that really caught my attention though. For some reason, this has stuck on my heart everyday since I read it:

I believe that the term "entitlement" as commonly used re government/citizen relationships in this country refers to the obligation of our government to take care of the citizenry of our country. In my memory, the first entitlement program in this democracy was social security, established by Franklin Roosevelt in the 1930s. We were in a deep depression, as you may know. We did not spend money we did not have. Dad sold my small flock of chickens I had raised to pay the grocery bill. Many times during my highschool days, I caught a ride home with a neighbor so that I could pick two ears of corn from our adjacent farm as my lunch for the day. In the summer, I worked at a grocery from 7 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. five days a week and 7 a.m. to 10:30 P.m. on Saturdays all for $7.00 a week--and glad to get it. Out of that, I bought my lunch, daily for about $0.40 at a nearby cafe. Many people had no work at all. The grocer was a family friend!!!

Mercy, this has so touched my heart. I know nothing of this world that he speaks of, of the values that he refers to. Now don't get me wrong, we work hard to instill values into our family and our kids, but somehow, this is so different. I am inspired by what my grandfather has written. See, when I moved out of my parents' home at 18, I was armed with 3 credit cards and absolutely no knowledge of stewardship whatsoever. If I had, I spent. If I didn't have, I spent. If I wanted it, sure enough I could buy it. Just whip out the plastic. And 3 credit cards slowly (quickly) grew to more than three, my favorite at the time being my Victoria's Secret card. Now don't judge. I didn't know Christ in those years, somehow in my mind, I didn't know that sacrifice and going without was better than debt. In fact, in my mind, sacrifice was a humiliation that was not worth its weight.

Well, as you can imagine, it didn't take long to amass an incredible amount of debt. An INCREDIBLE amount of debt. When I came to know Christ at 22, I was just about buried in my debt, so when I began to learn about stewardship and dealing responsibly with my finances for Kingdom sake, I was so overwhelmed with where I was. By God's grace, though, He does not leave us where we are, and He did a great work in my life. I can boast in Him these days that we worked hard and sacrificed to get all of that credit card debt paid off, but somehow I still had not fully learned my lesson. I am stubborn and quite hard-headed, and obviously quite slow to learn lessons. God knows this. You see, I still carry plastic with me. Initially it was for "emergency sake," but that morphed over time to using the plastic for points, or for convenience sake. And then it was being used if we came up a bit short on cash at the end of the month. You can see where that's going.

So, in the midst of all of this, the healthcare debate began to take shape. I'm chiming in on the debate, all the while praising God that we are healthy and not needing healthcare attention, knowing that that sort of cost would be devastating to us. I had vowed in my heart before God to go back to our "cash only" system, as that seemed to hold me accountable for spending the best. And then sickness struck our home. So, two urgent care visits later, and a $300 plus bill wiped out our grocery budget for the month.

My first instinct? Break out the plastic and head to the grocery store. It was just about this time that the email from my grandfather arrived. And somehow in the midst of all of this turmoil, I knew that God was teaching me a lesson. You see, several times within the last few days, I have come across the story in Exodus 16, of God providing the Israelite people with manna in the morning. They were told to take exactly enough to get them through the day, and those who did not trust the Lord took too much, hoarding it for the next day. But the extra manna that had been taken for the next day ended up rotting and full of maggots. I have read it, I have blogged about it, someone used it conversation with me to encourage and exhort. Praise Jesus that He knows I am slow to learn. He just continues to drive it home. I'm started to realize that maybe I should get this one. Just what exactly it is though, I have not nailed down yet.

To me, this is all very interesting thoughts in light of our current situation. I am accustomed to doing grocery shopping for a at least a week at a time, for convenience sake, of course. I like to plan out a menu and do one thorough grocery trip. But now...well, now I can only look at how creative I can be for our next meal.

How do we ask God to provide for our daily bread if we've already taken care of it ourselves?

Well, needless to say, I have put the plastic away, yet again, and began to get very creative with the "staple" items in the pantry, until those have become very depleted. And then, God provided bread for us. Literally, as a friend dropped off a loaf of bread, some butter, meat in the freezer and two gift cards for the local grocery store. I felt some of the glory of the early Church in this generous act of a friend.

It is humbling, downright humiliating, to struggle in such a manner. But I have seen God's grace in it as I have pleaded for a content heart. I want to glorify Him. I want to depend on Him.

In all of this talk about healthcare, stewardship, and daily bread, I know that God must be in it somewhere. The events are too "coincidental" to not be Him. It leads me to thoughts of Jubilee and of the early Church, and the system that God had set up originally for His people. Surely there is a better way for us, as followers of Christ, above political lines, above partisan biases, above denominations, above national boundary lines.

That's probably enough for today. I'll try to unpack more of it tomorrow. I can't seem to get away from thoughts of the early Church. Maybe it'll make more sense tomorrow.

Whoa, I seem to have struck a nerve

Oh how I love challenging conversations, even disagreements! Scriptures says, “Come, let us reason together,” and it is through this challenging reasoning that we grow and come to see other perspectives outside of our own. Thank you for engaging in that. Also, I now know how to get comments on a blog; Challenge you with an idea you don’t like. You don’t have to like it or even agree with me, but as long as we can engage in the conversation, there is hope for us as a body of Christ. It’s good to know that someone out there is reading along, even if I just lost some. There were some very good points that were brought out in the comments that I would really like to address.

The phrase “sense of entitlement” was used. It’s a very interesting phrase and very appropriate for this culture. You see it more and more in the upcoming generation as they demand their cell phones and video games, insisting that they just can’t do without these modern amenities. Well, we know that’s not true and even in my own generation, we remember life before all our gadgets and toys. But more and more it is harder to say no to these things. It is a sense of entitlement and it’s incredibly dangerous.

Did government really create that, though? Or was it born out of capitalism in general? Isn’t that the fueling wind of capitalism? I deserve it all? The entire American dream is based on this sense of entitlement. When the system of credit cards were introduced post World War 2, it was based on a sense of entitlement. I deserve a better life and I’ll just pay for it later. The feminine movement was based on entitlement. “I am woman; hear me roar!” I can do it all and have it all, and I don’t have to wear a bra to do it! There is a well-known gospel that is still being preached in countless churches across the nation known as the “Health and Wealth Gospel” that thrives on this sense of entitlement. “Come to Jesus and everything will be just fine!”

It seems like a bit of a scapegoat, though, to blame this sense of entitlement on government alone. The health and wealth gospel that riddled so many churches for so many years propelled Christianity into a religion of gain and not give. Hoard and not sacrifice.

Even some of the comments left on the blog were in reference to saving up for rainy days, as if poverty is due to irresponsibility. If only I would save more responsibly or give up my cell phone, maybe we wouldn’t be in the position we are in today.

Who am I to hold on to anything, when my brothers and sisters are toiling endlessly for the sake of the gospel, and have nothing to eat? Who am I to tuck away $25 for a rainy day, when it’s pouring over there? How can I hoard the extra that we have left over, when our family abroad is attempting to feed the mouths of orphans and other families who lack even more? Everyday they pray for God to multiply the fish and bread just as Jesus did when He walked this earth, so that each mouth may receive even a little. And selfishly, we tuck it away for a rainy day.

It reminds me of the story of God providing manna for the Israelites in the desert. He told them to take just enough to get them through the day, for He would provide again tomorrow. Those who did not trust the Lord hoarded extra manna, but by morning it was rotten, full of maggots worming their way through the bread.

We stress the importance of saving for retirement, saving up for a rainy day, setting aside a portion so that we do not lack, and yet in our global disconnect, we have forgotten the toils of our brothers and sisters around the world who received not even one bite today. Our brothers and sisters in Kenya and Ethiopia are working tirelessly for the sake of the cross, setting up clinics, planting churches, seeing to the needs of the orphans, discipling new growth, and yet they have not received a paycheck in months, and what they do receive, they give away because surely there is someone who has less indeed. Those are your brothers and sisters as well. You just might not know their names.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that no one should save anything. I'm just trying to look at this conversation in the light of Scripture and put it all together.

I have not yet heard why people are so completely opposed to the public option for healthcare. I have heard fear, speculations, doubts, but nothing solid. They’re scared of losing their doctor? According to factcheck.org, this is what Obama said:

Obama, Aug. 15: [i]f you like your health care plan, you keep your health care plan. Nobody is going to force you to leave your health care plan. If you like your doctor, you keep seeing your doctor. I don’t want government bureaucrats meddling in your health care. But the point is, I don’t want insurance company bureaucrats meddling in your health care either.

Scared of losing your doctor? Try not having one at all. Like 46 million people across this nation. These are the selfish conveniences that I referred to in my previous post. I don’t want anyone else to have coverage because it might adversely affect my own coverage. Not that anyone would ever say that out loud (except for the woman sitting next to my father at the town hall meeting), but the implication is there. Sure, idealistically it would be great if everyone had coverage, but not at the expense of what I’ve got. Don’t mess with what’s mine.

Others protest the idea of government running healthcare, saying that they are incompetent. Just look at the mess of social security. Two thoughts on these statements: social security is a mess, but it has long outlived the intended plan for which it was created. The life expectancy when social security was created was only 55. Now the life expectancy is 85. That’s 30 years that the plan was not necessarily intended to cover. That plan needs to be revisited, revamped even, to make it more applicable and more relevant to the day and age we now live in.

Second thought is this: the government currently runs the VA medical system and Medicare. In 2008, Medicare was providing health care to 45.3 million elderly and disabled people across this nation. According to the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, over 80% of those 45.3 million covered are quite satisfied with the care that they have received. I guarantee you that my father would trade his big, broken toe to have that coverage. It works, and has been working for 35 years. Has it been flawless from the beginning? Absolutely not. Has it needed to be revisited, tweaked, and revamped in portions? Absolutely. But it was a plan that was put on the table and put into action, now providing care to over 45.3 million.

I have heard, and even seen in these comments, folks saying how sad it makes them that others don’t have health insurance or access to health care. It is sad. But then they follow it up by saying that this plan that has been proposed is not the answer. They just aren’t sure this is the best way, and so for now, we'll do nothing. So my question is this: is it better to sit back on our heels and do nothing while we hem and haw about how this isn’t the best way forward? Or is it better to act on a good plan that has been laid out and be prepared to revise as better ideas are illuminated?

It reminds of the passage in James 2:14-17:

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed, “ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

I agree that it is prudent to carefully consider the options and consequences, but seriously, at some point you have to take a step. For those with coverage and those without, there is a much different sense of urgency. The system is thoroughly broken, from top to bottom. The prices for all things are in a cycle that is spiraling higher and higher. That’s why this overhaul is necessary.

I will stop there for now. This is a lot to mull over. In all things there is grace. In all things we remain bound by the blood of Christ. This conversation is an attempt to live it out, and encourage others in the same.

Chiming in the Debate

What is wrong with the world that we live in today? What has happened to this culture that grown men and women think that it is acceptable to yell, “BOO” and shout out “LIAR!” in the middle of an overly crowded town hall meeting? Grown men and women behaving like rotten, rebellious, teenagers. Truly disgraceful behavior.

Last night I attended such a town hall meeting. The purpose of the meeting was to have an open dialogue with our local Congresswoman about the proposed health care reform. But the anger and fear of many turned a diplomatic forum into a display of completely uncouth, rowdy juveniles clothed in the bodies of middle to late age retired veterans depending daily on government-run healthcare called Medicare. The hall was filled with an over-representation of older, retired folks who had been forming a line to enter for 4 hours prior to the beginning of the event, while the rest of the attendees watched on big screens outside the hall because they were not able to show up until just before opening due to the second or third job they were working to be able to afford health insurance for their family.

The former Surgeon General of the United States stood before this passionately noisy, and often rude, crowd and spoke about the desperate need for reform, about the unsustainability of the current system, and about the already high price tags of health insurances premiums that will continue to rise all too quickly. All the while this ridiculous crowd of grown adults booed and hollered as if rude rebellion is an acceptable standard. One of the men lucky enough to have his ticket called by lottery to be able to ask the Congresswoman a question, boldly proclaimed, “85% in this nation today have access to healthcare. Isn’t that enough? Why do we need to fix a system that isn’t broken?”

Huh?

Really?

Is that all we’re shooting for? Clearly that man has never been part of the 15%. I am eternally grateful that God’s numbers and merciful economy do not work like that.

Remember the story of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis 18-19. Abraham pleaded with God to not destroy the cities, testing the depth of God’s mercy. Abraham starts off by asking, “Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked? What if there are fifty righteous people in the city? Will you really sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous people in it?”

The Lord replies that He will spare the whole place for the sake of fifty righteous.

Abraham continues with the questions until he reaches 10. He says, “May the Lord not be angry, but let me speak just once more. What if only ten can be found there?”

He answered, “For the sake of 10, I will not destroy it.”

Even just for 10 righteous, mercy will be shown to all. Much better economics than shooing off the unfortunate 15% simply because the privileged 85% are getting their needs met. They’ve got theirs; who cares about the rest?

How did this culture become so selfish, so egocentric? The woman who was sitting next to my father at this town hall meeting is currently receiving Medicare benefits but is not yet 65. She actually said to my father that she didn’t want him to receive the same Medicare benefits that she currently receives because it might take away from her benefits. Seriously? I’ve seen that same attitude in my 2-year-old who has not yet learned how to share. But in a 2-year-old, we quickly correct such selfish behavior. What do we do with it in a well-aged woman? Have we lost touch with mercy and compassion altogether?

I have heard many people say that all this talk of health care reform just seems to be happening so fast. That statement can only come from someone who has access to healthcare. They have options, so what do they care about rushing to change anything? They don’t seem to understand the urgency that comes with having no options and no access. Imagine having a sick child and not being able to do anything about it. Imagine having a parent, who has no insurance, walking around on a broken toe for months because he can’t afford to seek treatment. Imagine getting a simple infection and not being able to seek treatment.

I have heard many balk at the number of 46 million uninsured, saying that the number is not a true representation. Seriously? Isn’t that splitting hairs? Are we going to make that the issue? Are there 30 million uninsured? Are there 10 million uninsured? Are there 5 million uninsured? Isn’t that 5 million too many? I think that the number is easy to hide behind, keeping it impersonal and distant. But I have a face, and a name, and a husband and three precious girls, and we have no insurance. I have a family member who has a great job, but still cannot afford health insurance for his family. He just recently got a second job to pay for it. So he works all week to pay the bills, and all weekend to pay for health insurance. That is wrong. The system is broken and in need of desperate repair.

The irony for us is that we work so hard to see that villages across Africa have access to healthcare, yet here in our own country we just cannot afford it. And should something happen, as in a trip to urgent care this past weekend, we get to choose which budget that money comes out of…groceries or bills? And don’t get me wrong. We are not living outside of our means. We live QUITE frugally, and pass any extra on to others who have less than us. So, yes, for us, there is most definitely a sense of urgency.

Proverbs 3:27-28 says, “Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, ‘Come back later; I’ll give it tomorrow’- when you now have it with you.”

It reminds me of the story that Jesus told of the Good Samaritan, who stopped, allowing himself to be inconvenienced, in order to help a man whom has been beaten and robbed. The beaten man had already been passed up by two religious leaders who just simply could not be bothered to help him. This Samaritan, though, carried the beaten man to lodging, saw that he was cleaned up and taken care of, and then paid his bill. The Samaritan withheld nothing, but gave of what he had to see that the man was properly taken care of.

We are talking about compassion and mercy here. For those who know Christ, this should strike such a heart chord! Christ called us to care for the sick, to have mercy on others. When Jesus was teaching on the Mount of Olives, he said:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes, and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry, and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”

Isn’t it time to get on the side of compassion? Isn’t it time to set aside notions of selfish conveniences and look to the good and care of the whole, including those who don’t have? What if we, as a body of Christ, were united for the sake of mercy to the uninsured, and I’m not even referring to myself, but to the body as a whole? Why is everyone so angry about the possibility of universal coverage? Because it will inconvenience you? Because you will get less quality than what you have now? Imagine life on the other side.

The Toilet Incident

An eerie, still quiet suddenly filled the house, as the chink and clank of dishes being loaded into the washer was the only sound in an otherwise child-filled house. Mama knew something was terribly wrong. She took one last sip of the creamy, cold milk leftover from dinner, and then she heard it.

The wet squishing sound a mop makes as it’s being lifted out of and dunked back into a bucket of water was rhythmically dancing its way out of the bathroom, and by the time she realized where to run, the ever-familiar sound of a flushing toilet and the overly-joyous squeal of the two-year-old princess who might soon be looking for a new home filled her ears to a blinding rage.

The look of joy instantly turned to one of fright and deep guilt, eyes scanning the small bathroom for an escape route, as the mama showed up to question, nay, rant about the flood that had just ensued from a toilet stuffed with untold amounts of toilet paper.

“WHAT? ARE? YOU? DOING???” face bursting with veins and color as the deep rouge of fresh, boiling blood climbed over cheekbones, brow bones, forehead and hair.

The suddenly timid, tiny voice responds, “I don’t know,” as potty flood waters are rising around her ankles.

Large mama hands grab the tender, mischievous arms of the tiny princess and scoop up a towel to act as a damn for the levy that just poured forth tainted waters, the soft, tender terry fibers becoming heavy and sloppy, like the hair of a shaggy dog at a much overdue bath time. The aroma coming forth from said water much like that of the same wet, shaggy dog, musty and potent.

After much bleach and much mopping, all is right with the world again. For the time being, anyway.

Once Again Aware of My Own Brokenness

There are few sights as painfully ugly as my own brokenness. There are few sights that disgust and pain my heart like my own depravity. Tonight I came face to face with it, and all I could say, over and over again, was "forgive me, Jesus."

You see, in my heart, I have boasted about all that we and our children are/have been exposed to. We serve people from many different nations and backgrounds. We engage in various activities that require sacrifice and humility. We have slept on a mat under the massive African sky, and shared a mattress on the floor with the whole family in a small room in a muslim sheik's home. Both of my older girls have had malaria and have recovered just fine from it. I have chalked it all up to the cost we pay to sell ourselves for the sake of the cross, and, unknowingly, it has become an incredible source of pride that is so evil and so divisive. Because in my heart, I had become a "better" Christian than some of those others.

Oh how heart-breaking is the depth of my depravity.

I had inwardly boasted about being willing to take my children to far-out bush villages of Africa, sure that it would make God so proud of me, His daughter. I found great pleasure in myself in being willing to sit with people of other cultures to try to help them out of their broken situations.

Oh how disgusting is the depth of my brokenness.

I thought in my heart that there was no Nineveh that I was not willing to go to, as I had already been to so many. I thought for sure that I was nothing like Jonah, who fled from the Lord when asked to go to a people whom he despised to preach a message of salvation and redemption. I wasn't fleeing from the Lord; I was going. I have gone, over and over again.

And then tonight, I met Angel and she wanted to hold my baby girl.

Hello, Nineveh.

Her sun-dried hands were stained with the smokey odor of an ashtray, long overdue to be cleaned, yellow nails filthy with the toils of street life. Her teeth, brown and broken, spoke of a life riddled with meth and alcohol abuse for far too many years. Her speech was slurred and difficult to understand at times, as one who has had one too many drinks for one too many years, a little slower to make sense of things.

She's loud and rough, looking worn out and brittle. As she reached out for my precious Hannah, all I could think about was how dirty she was, and how I absolutely did not want her to touch my baby girl.

Oh how I hate the depth of my brokenness!

I wasn't there to pass my baby around so the homeless folks could love on her. I was simply there to puts some plates of food on the table before them, fill up their cups with juice, and go home feeling accomplished, another good Christian deed done. But as she reached out to touch my baby, I felt my body physically cringe as my left foot took a small step back. Whoa now. My space is being encroached upon.

Sigh. Forgive me Father. How it must have broken Your heart to see me treat my sister, Your daughter, in such a disgraceful manner. Forgive me.

I tried to rationalize in my mind that Angel wouldn't have known what I was thinking, and I smiled and played along with the conversation so as to not make her feel uncomfortable. So she couldn't have known. Surely she didn't see me tighten up and back away.

Who am I kidding? The dirty old drunk in a half-stupor on the other side of the room saw me stiffen up. A person knows when they are being shut out.

Oh how ashamed I feel. I wasn't there to serve and love anyone. I was there to boost my own pride, and in the meantime, I have dehumanized someone created in the same image of God as me.

I guarantee you it would be easy for me to justify this one. I was a pediatric ICU nurse for years and there are some nasty bugs out there. I was only trying to protect my little one from being exposed to some potentially harmful things. It's not good for her to be so close to 3rd hand smoke like the thick stench that was clinging to Angel's everything. And who knows what all she is carrying around on that dirt-stained skin and nails. I was only trying to protect Hannah. That's my job as her mother.

Wrong. That's not my job. I can no more protect Hannah from the adversities of this world than I could protect her older sisters from getting malaria in Kenya and Ghana. I can no more protect her than I can cause the rain to fall or the sun to set. It's not my job to protect her, but it sure is a nice scapegoat for me to hide behind as her mommy. It is my job to teach her to love, worship and trust God. It is my job to demonstrate to her what it looks like to show up in fullness of heart and love others because God first loved me. It is my job to be an Ambassador of Christ, because for most people, I am the only Bible they will ever read. It is my job to teach them to give away their lives for the sake of the cross. But how can I teach that if I am not living it out? How is it possible for me to love and worship a homeless man on Sunday mornings, and then turn my back on the homeless the rest of the week? What am I teaching my children then?

Forgive me Father for the depth of my depravity. Forgive me for making myself and my comfort more important than the winning of souls and loving of Your children. Forgive me for not serving You, but rather boosting my own foolish pride. Forgive me for making service more about getting a project done than building a relationship with my brothers and sisters. Forgive me for not recognizing Your image in her. Forgive me for the incredible depth of my depravity, and thank you so much for showing it to me.

There are few sights as painfully ugly as my own brokenness. Tonight I saw it face to face. And tonight I receive the mercy of an incredibly patient and merciful God.

Slight Setbacks

Why is it that when I resolve to do something, and I mean really do it this time, life gets in the way? Or lack of will power gets in the way? Or exhaustion gets in the way? So I started this 40 day journey, which is now turning out to be longer than 40 days due to some minor setbacks. My sweet hubby has been in West Africa for the last...two weeks or so...I seem to have lost count. This sort of sent me into a tailspin of sorts as I adjusted to running the show on the homefront by myself for a bit. AAAAIIAAAIIIIAA! Not quite as fun with a 2 month old and two very busy older siblings, one of which flooded the bathroom while I was attempting to cook dinner with said two month old on my hip. There's only so much a mama can balance, and then...the toilet floods. I think that night earned a very serious Blue Bell Ice Cream Sundae.

Like I said, there have been some minor setbacks. Exercise, for instance, has taken a back burner to late nights by myself and early mornings with children who just pop up out of bed with all the enthusiasm of Christmas morning, full of questions and requests and very loud, high-pitched voices. Meanwhile, my puffy eyes are simply desiring just a few more minutes (hours) of sleep after having been open for far too long and far too many times over night with the youngest Okongo, who is now happily dozing in her bassinet.

Sigh.

I think I did mention in an earlier post that if this was all left to my will power alone, it was bound for failure. But I must confess that I am at a loss at how to do this when my man is away. Between the sleep deprivation, complete lack of energy, stress of parenting and potty-training, and just trying to get through the day with all three kids intact, I am failing at my weight loss journey. I wish that I was one of those people who would forget to eat, or who would not eat when stressed or tired. You know the ones I mean? Those who say things like, "No, I can't eat anything right now. There's just too much going on."

What? What do you mean? That's when my appetite kicks into high gear and I want to voraciously devour everything in sight. But I digress. So, I have only exercised once in the past two weeks. And now I am thoroughly discouraged at the thought of having to start over again. It's hard for me to build that momentum. I do have a friend who has graciously offered to come to the house early in the morning before he goes to work to sit while the girls sleep and I can go run, although now it wouldn't so much be a run as a walk/wobble combination. I just haven't had the heart to take him up on the offer. Too tired.

I need to get motivated to start again. I did do one day of Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred. Evil to the core. I need to get motivated to do more. Must. Get. Moving.

Maybe tomorrow. But tonight, I'm going to bed, missing my man immensely. If y'all think of it, pray for him. He's in Ghana now, and will travel to northern Ghana in the morning. It's a long journey, and not exactly smooth highway travel. I could probably use some of that God petition for myself to. I'll get back on track. Tomorrow.

Day 2, Cruising Along

Within the realm of eating, I have become something I do not like. I snack in the dark, indulging ridiculous cravings from sweets and carbs, filling the gut with that which cannot fulfill me, but simply fill me for a short while. For a moment it leaves me feeling satisfied, only to require more the next time a pang raises its ugly head.

It reminds me of the Samaritan woman whom Jesus met at the well in the town of Sychar. Jesus was sitting by the well when the woman came to draw water. Jesus asked the woman to give him a drink of that water, as he was tired from the journey.

The woman replied, "You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

Jesus answered her, "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."

"Sir," the woman said, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?"

Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him, will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will be come in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

I snack in the dark to hide what I know I should not be doing. I snack in the dark, as if doing in the dark will nullify the action, but it only leaves me wanting more. It leaves me thirsty.

We are called to walk in the Light in all things. In every aspect of our lives, we are called to walk in the Light. It takes away all reasons for non-believers to mock us and mock our God. We are called to walk with integrity and discipline, free from our sins by the mighty blood of Jesus Christ. We are called to be exposed, unafraid, unashamed. Because when we expose our brokenness, we are able to begin healing.

I should not need to sneak around when I am walking in obedience to God. I should not feel guilty or ashamed when I am properly fueling and taking care of this temple that has been entrusted to me, for my good and for His glory.

We are called to walk in the Light, and seek after the Living Water, that which quenches the thirst and leaves us wanting no more.

No more snacking in the dark. This stronghold will be broken.

Faithfully FIt, Day 1

So, I have started a 40-Day devotional called "Faithfully Fit" in order to address the spiritual, as well as physical, aspect of my food addiction and weight issues. I am determined to conquer this issue this time around, rather than continuing to struggle with it for the rest of my life, and risk passing on these horrible habits and struggles to my precious girls. This first week's topic in the devotional is all about surrender.

That's kind of a dirty little word. Surrender.

See, when we surrender, truly surrender, we are setting all selfishness aside and following the will of someone else. That really struck me, because as I consider my heart attitude toward this journey, I had to confess that I was really skeptical about succeeding at making these necessary changes to regain health. Somehow I just really didn't believe that this time around would work either. Because when success hinges on my will power alone, you might as well cash in the chips and call it a day. Failure. That's how I ended up in this situation.

And honestly, the only thing that I could really think about when I pondered a 40-day journey to regain health was just about all that I was going to miss out on. Ugh! My heart is so selfish! In order for me to surrender this habit, I have to learn to sacrifice and set selfishness aside. But sacrifice terrifies me, as if I'll be missing out on something so great. What's so great about Oreos? Besides the incredible chocolatey love. But even the simple thought of throwing them out, removing the temptation, makes me uncomfortable. Why is that? When did my taste buds become such dominating features of my body? That's such a ridiculous notion, and yet they seem to be such a driving force for many of my culinary decisions.

What will I miss out on really? Comfort food? Dessert? How is comfort food really comforting when I hate the body I see in the mirror the next morning? Food is not my comforter! God is my Comforter, if only I will let Him be.

So, I have begun to make changes, in honor of Day 1. For the record, I have not had an oreo for two days. I feel like at the confessional session for a 12-step program.

Greetings. My name is Shauna and it's been two days since I had my last Oreo.

Actually that's really great progress. But I digress. So, I have traded out these:

For this:

And this:

Progress, right? And I'm not dead, nor have I missed out on anything, other than a few extra calories. It's a step, and I am praying for a heart determined, a mind focused, and a body fed up enough the with the current status to stay the course. Day 1 is over.

Making a Plan

So, I have issues. Seriously, who among us does not, but I am not only aware of my issues, but am wanting to face them head on. Not by my strength alone, because if I could conquer them by my strength, they wouldn't truly be issues that I am struggling with. But the thing is, I don't want to pass these on. I think that there is some validity to the idea of generational curses if they are left to rule and wreak havoc in our lives, and until they are faced head-on and conquered in the Name of Jesus Christ, they are too easily passed on. So my desire is that my issues end with me.

See, the thing with issues is that they can seriously take up your time and energy as you obsess and are consumed by them, drawing your attention away from God and the marvelous things that He wants to do. The biggest issue that I am facing right now is my struggle with weight and my addiction to food. I hate typing that. I hate seeing it actually put out there, and even in this moment I am wondering if I should post this at all. Somehow putting down in print makes it real, and not just some silly notion floating in my head. No, it's real. I don't want others to know my weaknesses, like German Chocolate cupcakes with

coconut frosting on them. I know there's a plate of them sitting on my counter, but if I know me like I think I do, they won't be there for much longer. Disgusting, isn't it?

It shouldn't be that hard. It shouldn't be that difficult to walk away from a plate of cupcakes, or any other sweet, or fried, or baked anything. It just requires a small amount of will power, right? I can control what I put into my mouth. Well, I should be able to control what I put in my mouth. But for some reason, I will start the day off with the best of intentions to eat healthy, but by mid-day, I find myself blowing it, completely oblivious to the vows I made just a few hours earlier. That is, right up until I glance at myself in the mirror and wonder who the overweight broad is that has taken up residency in my body. I hate what I see in the mirror. I hate that my clothes don't fit and I hate that I actually had to go up a size, or two. I hate that I had to look in the "Big Lady's" store to find clothes that fit this stretched out body. I hate that I can't go into normal stores now, as they don't carry my size.

Humiliating.

Why can't I beat this? Why is this such a stronghold in my life? I have been drug addictions. I have beat alcoholism. I have beat so many other issues in my life. Why is this one so strong over me? I have to beat this. I will not pass this on to my daughters.

I'm making a plan to beat it. Again, somehow putting it out there for all the world to know, or all two people who read this blog, makes me accountable. Makes it real. So, here goes:

I have started the "The Couch to 5K Running Plan." (Thank you, Donita, for sharing it.) I have officially finished Day 3. Whew! Don't mock the title. I fit into the "couch" category currently. But did I mention that I have finished Day 3?

I am swimming on the days that I am not walk/running. I grew up swimming competitively, so this is something I can flow back into, obviously much slower and weaker, but I can still float in water.

Sunday I will rest (Sabbath and all).

100 crunches a day (I need to learn how to work these in. Not really looking forward to it. My belly looks like it has carried three babies. Oh wait, it has. I guess the Oreos don't really help it either.)

30 push ups a day. Again, not really excited about this, but my arms have that old-lady-hang-down working for them, and that's just not right.

What else...so, my plan is to do a 5K race in October. October 11th, to be exact. Wanna suffer...I mean, run it with me?

From there, assuming I am still standing and able to walk, I will start training for a half marathon in January. January 17th to be exact. Wanna join me? Seriously, I need accountability for this one.

AND THEN, if I am still standing, able to feel my feet and walk at that point, well I'm just gonna have to sign myself up for a triathlon in May. I don't have the exact date for that one yet, but I will. And I actually have a friend who has already committed to doing that one with me! Thank you, Claire!

Ok, so I realize that this has addressed the fitness aspect of my body, but has really just skirted over the whole food addiction aspect of it. Intentionally. See, I'm still working on that one. I have overcome lots of obstacles in my lifetime. I have beat addictions and walked away from things that the devil intended to use for my destruction. This one, though. This seems to be such a silent battle, in which I feel so alone, and guilty, and humiliated.

If I have a rough morning with the kids, I'll eat. Chocolate of course. Cures whatever ails you. Unless what ails you is obesity, and then it just debilitates you. Then I feel guilty for further debilitating myself, so I eat more chocolate to comfort myself. Yeah, it really doesn't work, but somehow, in my mind, it makes sense at the time. If I'm stressed over finances, I'll eat. If I'm tired from a long night with the baby, I'll eat. If I'm procrastinating from writing in the afternoon, when the rest of the house is asleep and it's only me and a kitchen full of food, I'll eat. Honestly, it really doesn't matter what the reason. There's always some reason. And it's not like I saunter into the kitchen and grab some carrot sticks. No. No, no. I grab the oreos, or the tortillas, or something that I just know will continue to destroy my body, yet I don't seem to care. At that moment.

"...man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord." Deuteronomy 8:30

But if we could live on bread alone, I'd want mine with butter. Ok, I know that was...I was going to say tasteless, but really, I can just taste the bread with rich, creamy butter on it. This is an awkward, uncomfortable topic for me, so my heart would much rather dance around it than stare it in the face. To stare it in the face is to look at, and acknowledge, my own brokenness. Never pretty.

Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. I think that I have been craving the bread rather than the words of my Lord. That's a problem, and a hindrance to true growth. Job says this in 23:12, "I have not departed from the commands of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread." I think that might be my next memory verse. I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread. I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread. This is my heart's desire. But instead, right now my god is my stomach, and my glory is in my shame. My mind is on earthly things.

Father, I will treasure the words of Your mouth more than my daily bread. I ask You for the grace and strength to accomplish that which You have put in my heart to do. It's time for new growth, and not in the waistline. Teach me to make sacrifices, that my heart would be fully set on You, no distractions from earthly things. I praise You Lord for all that You have planned, and surrender everything to Your will. In Jesus' Name,

Amen

My Heart's Desire

I have seen a life of faith lived in complete abandon to worldly traditions,

a heart so devoted to prayer for every direction,

a mind so fully dependent on His very Word,

a tongue that so boldly speaks His truth,

and feet that are directed by His command alone.

I want that.

I have seen a heart so overwhelmed with gratitude that it cannot be contained,

ears so in tune to His voice as to hear His gentle whisper,

hands so willing to give everything for the sake of sharing His Name,

eyes that are able to see God’s children as the beauty He created,

and a life so disciplined in its pursuit of God.

I want that.

What about you? What do you desire for your spiritual journey?