Plateau

   "For forty years I (Moses) led you through the wilderness, yet your clothes and sandals did not wear out. You ate no bread and drank no wine or other alcoholic drink, but He provided for you so you would know that He is the Lord your God." Deuteronomy 29:5

  For four days my weight was exactly the same. Gina had warned us about plateaus. It's one thing to know about something but it sure changes your understanding when you actually experience it!

  It stirred up a whack of unpleasant emotions even though I know plateaus are an integral part of weight loss. That's when the body is adjusting to significant weight change. It needs time to reconfigure hormones, heart size, blood flow, and a whack of other body functions. It needs time to adjust for there being less of a body to keep functioning at an optimal level.

  I know this is why they happen!

  By the third day the toxic inner critic was clamoring to be heard. It took great joy in beating me up about the scale not moving. It accused me of not getting the program right, not doing enough, yada yada yada...It's all a bunch of hooey but, still, the inner voice had some teeth.

  I think back to the people I've known who have dieted for years; how they complain about the scale not moving as fast as they would like. I've heard people say day in and day out, "If only I could loose that two pounds or five pounds..."

  Their voices are what the inner critic sounded like.

  "You're fat and you're going to stay fat!"

  I know this is a complete and utter lie coming from the father of lies. But here's the thing, stress can cause weight gain or a weight plateau. If the father of lies can keep us stressing about it, we are fighting an uphill battle. 

  I brushed the lies off, knowing they were utterly irrelevant to being on a plateau because Gina has explained time and again why they have to happen. 

  he came at me with the big guns..."You are a failure! Your life has been nothing but failure! What makes you think this stupid diet will succeed?" (FYI, I refuse to capitalize the devil's name or pronouns even when they come at the start of a sentence.)

  Nevertheless, "Ouch!" his words hurt.

  So today, after a 2.8 lb. loss over the last three days, I have truth to bind and silence the enemy of my soul. My body needed the four days of stability. It was ramping up to shed the fat it doesn't want either. That's the other part of a plateau...house cleaning! 

  This growing partnership with my body is an amazing thing. The body I've hated, insulted, abused, refused to look at, and neglected is responding to the love and care I am giving it. Love does that, you know, brings out the best in everything and everyone.

  The four day plateau also happened during a few days of not sleeping very well which also creates stress which also can contribute to the scale not moving. I've discovered I need more sleep to feel healthy. Eight and a half to nine hours has me functioning at an optimal level. I needn't feel guilty or lazy for spending that much time in bed. My body needs me to give it the time to do what it needs to do.

  I came across this quote the other day, "Self care is giving the world the best of you instead of what's left of you." Katie Reed

  I want to give the world my best. I want to be able to serve the Lord at my best. I want the body He designed to be running at optimum levels for as long as possible. 

  As for the devil's words? I hate to break the news but he's already lost.

  There will be other plateaus because the goal is to lose a significant amount of weight no matter how long it might take. Even though the scale is being used as a barometer of what that might be, it's also being used as a tool to understand my body's needs and how it works.

  The program is worth sticking to until my body is happy with where it is at. There will be an ongoing and positive inner dialogue throughout the process. I will listen to it and continually assess if my goal weight is really where I need to be.

  As for those Body Mass Indicator graphs? They are a cruel weapon that only take into account age, height and weight. There's no room for skeletal size or muscle mass or fitness level. It slams the gavel down on an arbitrary number based on three points of our fearfully and wonderfully made bodies.

  My end weight will be based on what my body says, not on some standardized weight requirement mandated by someone who created the cruelest, shame building, condemning "ideal" ever. 

  

Up Rising

   "If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. For He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go." Psalm 91:9-11

  It feels rather odd to be going through a teenage rebellion at 59 years of age. I didn't do it then. It's time to do it now. 

  I didn't do it then because fear ruled my life. It's time to do it now because God's way is far better. 

  I didn't do it then because I was a people pleaser to the nth degree. It's time to do it now because I am letting go of feeling responsible for other people's emotions.

  I have no intentions of spitefully hurting others or being intentionally rude. It simply isn't in me. Although...there are times...no...it still isn't in me because I know how much it hurts.

  Teenage rebellion is something all teenagers should do to a certain degree. That's when young adults find themselves and their place in the world. That's when they begin to assert their autonomy and independence. Why is this even called rebellion? I mean, seriously, why?

  Yah...a teenage brain isn't completely formed yet so some of their decisions mightn't be the wisest but isn't making mistakes all part of becoming an adult? Heck, even adults make poor choices!

  I am not saying a teenager should rule the roost. Life comes with boundaries and responsibilities and consequences. Although if these haven't been learned by the time the teens hit, it's a bit late to start.

  That's all I am going to say about raising teenagers because one method doesn't work across the board. There are so many factors to consider.

  If a teen's foundation is strong, chances are they will make wise and forward thinking decisions. If they are secure in the knowledge they are loved, they will be confident and caring people.

  In a perfect world, we all would have been given this gift right from the very beginning.

  It's not a perfect world. 

   

  Rebellions happen for a reason. Just look at history, at the times the oppressed took up arms against their oppressors. It didn't always work out so well because the oppressed would become the oppressors like in communist countries. 

  Which is exactly how the devil wants it. Oppression is a wedge to drive us away from God.

  I am rebelling against the world's "standards" and heading straight into the arms of Jesus.

  Because it is important to nurture and protect the blessings God has placed in the fabric of my being.

  Because oppression's offspring is fear.

  I am sorry for this being so repetitious but it's important to keep telling myself this, to shore up my own foundations in the love of God. What I imagine happening will and can become actions.

  I took a bold step a couple of days ago during the morning check in with Gina Livy on FB. I shared about the blog and being a writer! It was utterly terrifying. It filled me with second guessing about my motives: was this pride?

  The response from one of the moderators was utterly amazing. There is always someone monitoring participants comments and posts to answer questions but more importantly, to encourage, affirm and support the changes everyone is making in their lives.

  This is so much more than just a diet, folks, it's about our life's fabric. 

  The moderator's kind and life giving words mended a massive tear in mine.

  She was astounded I've been doing this for eleven years! Not only that, she called it an incredible achievement! 

  What?!

  I'd never thought of it as an achievement, it was simply something I do. 

  If only we could see ourselves as others see us; as God sees us.

  Someone important in my life told me a while back that reading the blog made them upset. My response was that they shouldn't read it then. But, the old niggling guilt, the old need to do anything to make them feel better has tainted what I do here. Not that it's stopped me from being utterly honest but the voice of oppression has been nagging me to be careful about what's written in case it hurts someone.

  On Thursday, I spent time creating postcards around this burden of false responsibility. I thought about the blog and why I think it's important. 

  On top of the postcards, I began to draw post it notes to cover them. There ended up being about twenty or so post its. It was healing to see the poisonous post cards get buried in yellow. This enabled me to realize that what I do here just might be making a difference.

  The one that is the most important of all mended even more tears in the fabric of my soul.

  "Maybe I write because God planted the words in my heart before I was born."

  So, yes, I am proud of what I do here and in the art. They fill my life with jaw dropping amazement and eyes-wide-open awe of what God is capable of doing. He's even using a 59 year old teenage rebel! AMEN!

  PS with a big smile....there's a soundtrack for this adventure! A song from my actual teens...The Parachute Club's "Rise Up"

  

  

  

Cards

  "You hide them in the shelter of Your presence, safe from those who conspire against them. You shelter them in Your presence, far from accusing tongues." Psalm 31:20 

  Did you know women over fifty shouldn't wear sleeveless tops or skirts that are above the knees? You know why? Because arms start sagging. So do knees. Nobody wants to see such ugly body parts. They should be covered out of respect for other's tender eyes and sensitive nature. 

  Did you know teenage girls shouldn't wear sleeveless tops or skirts that are above the knees? You know why? Young men can't handle seeing that much skin therefore it should be covered out of respect for their weakness and sensitive nature. (This falls in line with the concept that a rape victim asked for it because of what they were wearing.)

  Folks, there are some serious issues with these "rules of polite society." It's not that polite at all, is it?

  It's downright awful.

  My ex mother-in-law quoted the first at me many, many times. No matter how hot the day was, she kept her upper arms covered. Her son made sure I knew this was something that was required when I got older.

  But then, he frequently threatened to trade me in for two, twenty year olds when I turned forty.  By forty, I would no longer be attractive or appealing even if my arms were covered. This was his idea of being funny. It took me saying that his old body wouldn't be able to keep up with them before he quit repeating this nasty joke. (I laugh about it now.)

  Forty is when God stepped into my life and got me out of there. To Him, I wasn't replaceable or objectionable. Which leads us to the work I've been doing over the last several days.

  I've been drawing tiny postcards with notes on them. They aren't love notes. 

  It's been a powerful tool for capturing and containing the toxic lessons about everything related to body image and self worth. It ebbs and flows into postcards around personal identity, choices, and the mockery, or disregard for the gifts God blessed me with. I've done three pages so far.

  

  It's not a linear process. I liken it to dropping a deck of cards on the floor. They scatter. Some are face up. Some are face down and hidden until they are picked up to see what's on the other side. It's surprising how many have the same number on them or are of the same suit; how toxic truths tend to repeat themselves through various people, situations and events.

  It's not been easy but has been worth spending the time to draw the postcards; to allow the poison to rise into my awareness. Before the Lord, my heart and mind are an open book.

  Man, I love the power of art when combined with prayer! 

  I finally understand why it's so hard to set goals and intentions. It was something I was never allowed to do unless it coincided with the choices, goals or intentions someone else had for me. On the rare occasion I did make a decision, it was inevitably the wrong one and unsuitable. The postcards revealed conflicting ideas when one goal or intention would be wrong but the opposite options were also wrong. This in particular is what has tied me in knots!

  I have spent my life being told to be thankful for having such strong people in my life to take care of me. But gratitude for relationships where where one person must have all the power is simply another name for chains.

  There's no room for true relationship when one person has the need for utter control and unquestioned obedience. (Read up about Narcissists and Gaslighting if you have time.)

  Just so you know, this is abuse. 

  Run, beloved, run!

  Here's the best part of all. As the postcard images covered the page, I sensed that Cricket is breaking free. This beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, creative and God blessed child is coming into her own now. She's a strong one who has endured much but (smile) we, I, can overcome anything!

  Debts of gratitude have been paid in full a thousand times over. I am done paying. I am done playing the game without being given a full deck.

  

  God is with me as I embrace setting boundaries and rules when it comes to claiming the right to make my own decisions. 

  As for choices, goals and intentions? They are mine to make. If they don't work out? That's okay because there are always other options. Or should I say opportunities? Yah. I like that.

   

  You know something? I can hear the whispers of dreams beginning to form. I can hear desire stirring from it's place in the shadows. Confidence is climbing out of the darkness, too. 

  Oh, Lord, You are creating a monster!!! LOL and AMEN!

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Envisioning Tomorrows

   "My suffering was good for me, for it taught me to pay attention to Your decrees. Your instructions are more valuable to me than millions in gold and silver." Psalm 119:71-72

  One of the aspects for success in the Gina Livy program is setting morning intentions. There's space on the app to check in for morning, mid-day, then again in the evening. Morning and evening intentions can also be shared in the Facebook support group, an amazingly encouraging group of people. 

  Last night I wrote this as my end of day reflection.

  I find myself setting morning intentions that I know will be successful. Part of me thinks it's cheating but then I realize how hard goal setting is for me. If this little bit of practice helps me be bolder and willing to chance a higher goal, any written morning intention is one huge NSV (non scale victory.)!

  It's not that I can't envision anything. It happens all the time when I am in the process of creating something be it in the garden or the workshop. Blank canvasses are painted in my mind long before a brush is dipped in the paint. Although, that process is far more fluid like the writing. In both these cases, I might approach the canvas or the keyboard with an idea but usually end up following along where it leads.

  Before I started my renovations a few years back, hours were spent just standing in the kitchen and picturing what it would look like. It even went so far as to draw out my ideas. It was a nervous time, waiting to see what the finished product would look like. Was it even going to be close to what I had envisioned? It was far better!

  When it comes to envisioning what my life might be like in the future, my stomach gets in knots and my mind does its screaming heebie jeebies. 

  Maybe it's about playing it safe. If I don't dream of the future, it can't be taken away from me.

  Am I using my faith as a cop out? God's plans for my life are a gazillion times better than anything I could imagine so why imagine? Why not simply stay the course and see what those are?

  Yet, He created us with imagination. He created us with desires and hopes. He created us to be in relationship so we can talk to Him about everything. Is it so wrong to exercise these gifts?

  I've listened to other people share their hopes for the future. In a way, I am jealous of their ability, their freedom, their utter bravery to put hope into words.

  Is it that I won't? Or is it that I simply can't?

  Maybe it's that I share any sort of hopes or plans for the future with the wrong people. The kind of people who take great pleasure in tearing my ideas to shreds. The kind of people who get a thrill out of crushing hope. The kind of people who are more focused on what's important to them and have no regard for what I want. The kind of people who make suggestions that more is needed.

  They call it helping.

  That kind of help is like using a tsunami to water flowers.

  I thought my difficulties were the legacy of broken promises and trauma. Sure, that's part of it but that last bit of writing is a huge piece of the puzzle! 

  So how about I envision something small. 

  I envision myself putting boundaries in place to nurture this tiny seed of setting daily intentions. Those boundaries will create a safe space to allow it to grow. Boundaries will provide the time for its blooms to spread into other aspects of my life. Heck, these boundaries will keep the tsunami far from shore!

 

  Forgive me, Lord, for the times I was a tsunami with others' dreams. I am aware now that it has been part of my life and will be mindful because this learned behaviour is not of God.

  Let my life, my words, be a gentle, life-giving rain.

  I ask you, Lord, help me discern who is trustworthy when it comes to sharing my dreams. Strengthen me to maintain the boundaries needed with the people I need to use them with.

  And Lord? Help me dream and hope and plan and want all the good things You have waiting around the corner for me. 

  In Jesus name, AMEN!

  

  

  

Chasing Cars

   "Now all glory to God, who is able, through His mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." Ephesians 3:20

  Gina shared yesterday about her interactions with people who had nothing good to say about her program. She shared that she used to engage with such critics but has stopped because all the proof, all the arguments in the world, wouldn't make one iota of difference in getting them to understand that it works. She likened it to chasing cars. 

  One of my dogs started doing this when they were young. It's a dangerous thing for a dog to do. I managed to nip this habit in the bud by chasing him down before he got to the road, grabbing hold of him, shaking him by the scruff of the neck, and firmly saying, "NO! Bad dog!" He was the sensitive sort. My displeasure with his actions had a profound impact. It only took a half dozen times for him to not want to chase cars.

  It probably saved his life.

  I've been chasing my own cars. 

  This idea ties into yesterday's post. If I don't change the my responses to people, if no boundaries are put in place, if I don't speak up, I am simply running full tilt down the road in the fruitless pursuit of something that will never be caught. 

  The car I am chasing is called respect. 

  Either that or I will have to let the people driving the car continue on their merry way or accept, for whatever reasons, they will never respect who I am.

  I'm not sure if this is a pride thing or if it's simply my desire to live according to who God made me to be. I want to walk and live and breath in this truth. It's impossible to reconcile the old patterns and behaviours with truth, with confidence, with keeping my eyes on Jesus. Doing this creates one heck of a cognitive dissonance, a mental battlefield that is extremely unnerving.

  The old ways draw my eyes away from Him and have me chasing rusty and dilapidated old pick up trucks. I can feel Jesus gently shaking me by the scruff of the neck and saying firmly, "NO!" 

  And I am done with being ashamed of my abilities; of having to squash them to make others feel better about themselves. I am done with being ashamed of my body and this wonderful brain God blessed me with. 

  It's time for the shame, tandem trailer, eighteen wheeler that's been parked in my driveway for decades to start truckin' down the highway.

  This means venturing onto a new road: confidence. Confidence isn't pride. Confidence is an acceptance of self. Confidence leaves room for continuing growth and learning without shame.  Confidence is having both feet firmly planted in my faith.

   I will need God to help me be this way because, to be honest, it's really scary. Historically, confidence has been a punishable offense. It was misinterpreted as pride. 

  Which answers my earlier musings about it being a pride thing. Clearly, it's not.

  Confident women are treated very differently than confident men. Therefore, as a woman, a girl, confidence was unacceptable because it threatened the fragile male ego. It threatened those in authority. It was unappealing, unattractive, and would only drive men away. (Sheesh! 1950's get outta my head! And my heart!)

  Can you believe I believed this crap? But fed this toxic milk as a babe and throughout my life, how could I have known anything better?

  But, oh Lord, how it opened me up to abuse.  Cricket might have even told someone what happened and not blamed herself for what was done to her. We did, you know, blame ourselves for a long, long time.

  Had I even a fragment of confidence I might have been able to say, "No, you can't do this to me."

  How sad.

  It's never too late to start saying it. I'll practice here, "NO! You...can't...do...this...to...me!"

  Smile...I'll even use my, "Bad Dog!" firm voice and watch them quake!

  AMEN!

 

  

  

Martha

   "But the Lord said to her, 'My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her. " Luke 10:41-42

  The story of Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, is one of my favorites. I have been able to relate each of the three characters at various points in my journey. 

  Today is a Martha day.

  She's the one who complained to Jesus when her sister, Mary, wasn't helping in the kitchen. They had a houseful of guests but all Mary was doing was sitting at the feet of Jesus! That's when Jesus told her that Mary was just fine where she was and that Martha should just chill about it. He even went as far as to say that Mary was doing the right thing.

  There's always something more to learn in revisiting familiar stories. 

  I have always understood that Jesus wasn't reprimanding her for her dedication to serving her guests, he was inviting her to sit with him, learn from him, and be with him. Except today, it goes a bit further. 

  Jesus was also asking her to break from cultural traditions. He was asking her to break free of gender expectations around what Jewish women are supposed to do when a houseful of guests lands at their door. When you think of all the Jewish dietary Laws around food preparation and serving, she would be extremely careful to uphold all these Laws so none of her guests would inadvertently sin against God.

  That's a lot of responsibility, isn't it? It's Laws with a capital 'L!'

  There's nothing further said about what happened after Jesus spoke with Martha. I've always been curious. Did she hang up her apron and sit with Mary? Did she resent Jesus for not taking her side? Did she stomp back into the kitchen? Was she confused by the challenge to give up her understanding of her place in the world? Was she unable to let that go? Was she angry that the world, the Law, and her gender had bound her up so tight?

  I often wonder what happened inside her heart and soul over the next little while.

  Regardless of the mental and emotional wrestling that happened, this brief conversation with Jesus ended up being a catalyst that changed her priorities. The proof is later when her brother Lazarus died. Martha left the house during the allotted time of mourning when Jewish Law demanded family stay sequestered. It was more important to go to Jesus, to lay her sorrow, her grief at His feet. 

  It must have shocked the other mourners something fierce! Can you hear them? 

  "Martha, you aren't allowed to leave! It's against the Law! Stop! Come back! God won't like this neither will the Pharisees! You are going to get into trouble! It will take an entire bull to pay for your sin of breaking the Law! What's wrong with you? You were brought up better than this!"

  This time, Mary followed her.

  Gina's program has me very aware I've got my own set of mourners hollering in the background. Only they are saying things like this:

  "Susan, you aren't allowed to change! It's against all expectations! Stop! Go back to who you were! Nobody will like you if you change! You are going to get into trouble with the people in your life! You have no right! What's wrong with you? You were brought up better than this!"

  Man, they're a noisy bunch. And so full of it.

  Oh. 

  I've already walked away from a "friend" who sang this chorus. It's a good thing. It's the right thing to have done. (That was last year but I've wrestled with guilt and self doubt about it ever since.)

   But, I followed Jesus who gave me the strength to walk away and stay away from a toxic relationship despite how loud the chorus sang. There were others who joined the song afterwards and condemned this choice but, praise God, I have a stalwart friend who helped me stay strong; to uphold what I absolutely had to do. I just haven't shared with her how much it's plagued me.

  I need to practice letting go of feeling responsible for how others feel. 

  I need to throw away the life lesson that I am supposed to be responsible for this in the first place. I remember assessing my ex the moment he walked through the door. Like a bloodhound on a scent, in milliseconds I knew exactly what mood I was in for. My behaviours and responses were shaped by his temper, for the need to keep the peace, keep him happy, at all costs. Shame on me for doing anything less!

  It would seem these neural pathways are about to get plowed under. Thank God! 

  But Lord, what is the plow made of? How do I fight this, stop this, automatic, ingrained behaviour and attitude?

  

  Truth. Be true to the woman I made you to be, I paid for you to be.

  Love, God.

  

  

  

  

The Day After

   "I will be glad and rejoice in Your unfailing love, for you have seen my troubles, and you care about the anguish of my soul." Psalm 31:7

  Today's live post with Gina included a candid conversation with Dr. Beverly David. She's the psychologist who was on a couple of weeks ago. She talked about brain retraining and breaking habits by re-routing entrenched neural pathways. While the conversation was focused around food since this is the main focus of Gina's group, brain retraining has been a key concept in my mental health recovery. The principals are the same. And they work! It just takes time, practice and patience.

  After writing yesterday's post, the postcard memories of the times I felt ashamed flashed by. It was quite the stack. Cricket had a pile, adolescent me had one and so did the woman we became. I think the hardest part of seeing all these memories flash by is recognizing that shame was a fundamental lesson of my childhood. Brain training started early. By the time I reached adulthood, the shortcut to shame was seared into my neurons. 

  I tried not to get angry about it but I guess I am because a lot of the memories had no business being attached to shame. Is being self-conscious the same as being ashamed? Or is the self-consciousness a symptom of being ashamed of yourself? Yah, that's it.

  My mom put me in highland dancing when I was six or seven for a couple of years. We lived in Nova Scotia and my dad loved all things Scottish. It was hell on earth for me, being on "stage." I already knew full well my physical shortcomings and was embarrassed to be jumping around like an idiot. (Apologies to Highland Dancers.)

   I still have my sword. My dad got it for me when he was away on a business trip. It's hanging in my bedroom to remind me of God's armor. Now there's a redemption story! 

  The school held a dance recital. We used two taped together yard sticks as swords for the Sword Dance. Up on stage, I kicked mine and it went spinning across the stage to land on the yardstick sword of the girl dancing beside me. We both kept on smiling and dancing but I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She let me know afterwards exactly what she thought of my dancing skills. I mean the point of a sword dance is to show how agile you are! Yup...childhood mountains can be bigger than life sometimes.

  ...but I kept on dancing. The story of my life.

  Until I could dance no more and God rescued me. (Thankyouthankyouthankyou!)

  Side, back. Side, front. Turn, two, three, four. The first steps of the Highland Fling, the first Scottish dance I learned. If this has been seared into my memory, it just goes to show how entrenched neural pathways can become. 

  But I am going to try and put the brakes on this shame thing. It doesn't belong to me any more. It's not mine to carry or bury or ignore or even accept as a dance partner. 

  So what if dancing isn't my greatest ability! I know I've got rhythm, I'm a musician! Except Jazz. Can't do Jazz...I don't have that much rhythm. Although, I've been playing around with trying to play two notes at once on the flute. It's a jazz thing and pretty cool to hear. Sorry, I digress.

  Gina's program has been good on an emotional level. Even though I signed up for my friend, I am doing it for me. Not because someone else thinks I could lose a "few pounds" or because of not "measuring up" to a ballerina's physique. I am not doing it to prove my worth. I am doing it because my God has spent the last nineteen years teaching me exactly what my worth is. 

  We've already overcome so much. This is just one more step.

  It will take time to disconnect the shame shortcut patterns in my brain but now I am aware of them, I can capture, cancel, and correct the thoughts when they come. I have the Word of God and Truth at my side to defeat this foe. 

  And a sword!

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Breaking Shame

  "I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see." Revelation 3:18

  "But you desire honesty from the womb, teaching me wisdom even there." Psalm 51:6

  Shame is an insidious tormenter who creeps in the night, swallowing joy and light and life. Shame entangles its warped and twisted tentacles into the fabric of our being. It corrupts truth. It corrupts understanding. It deafens us, preventing us from embracing the life giving Words of God, of Jesus, whose power shines into the darkest places of our soul, our spirit and our being.

  But we are His beloved. He will help us capture, cancel and correct anything that would get in the way of becoming the people He created us to be. 

  Evil wants nothing more than to get in the way of this happening. It has one purpose. That purpose is destruction. And it lies. About everything.

  Until Adam and Eve ate of the apple, they walked with God in their nakedness. Without shame.

  Our body is not evil.

  Our body is not corrupt.

  The white clothes of God will cover our shame, blanketing it from our consciousness because, as children of God, He sees us as He made us, wove us together, in our mother's womb.

  I've been accused of being stuck in the past. I'm not. If I was, there would be no healing. I've likened my journey as moving forward through history. There's nothing I want more than to return to that state of being when I was one with God: the moment He breathed my life into my mother's womb.

  The second heartbeat was when sin started working to corrupt the innocence, the purity of life.

  There has been a great deal of debate about how much in-utero infants are aware of. There's been studies proving they are far more in tune to what's happening outside than was previously thought. It's why expectant mothers and fathers are encouraged to speak with the new life they are creating. Once outside the safety and security of the womb, the child has familiar voices to reassure her or him.

  Whatever a mother feels, the infant can't help but feel it. Anything that affects a mother physically or emotionally affects the child.

  If a mother is angry, the child knows.

  If she is afraid...the child is also.

  If she is happy...the child is at peace.

  If she feels shame...the child does, too.

  It's impossible for an unborn child to disconnect from the all encompassing intimacy of being formed inside another human being.

  Are we born sinners? Perhaps. The knowledge we gained pre-birth can corrupt our understanding of our place in the world. An unwanted child would know from conception it was not wanted. Why on earth would the world want her or him either?

  It's an issue many adoptees struggle with. It is a core belief established pre-vocabulary so it often takes a great deal of counselling and hard work to come to this realization. 

  

  I've written about this before and found healing by sharing information about the Primal Wound many adoptees experience. It's pertinent to my own life as a child of adoption but this morning I've had a deeper realization take shape.

  The foundation for all the shame I've ever felt was laid in the pre-birth knowledge my very existence was the cause of  shame. 

  It was a driving force behind becoming a people pleaser; a child, a woman, who would do anything so the people in my life would not be ashamed of me. I'd already been given away once because of it. 

  Thank you, Cricket, for being so honest this morning, for allowing me to find the words for the unvoiced pain we've carried a long, long time.

  This burden doesn't belong to me any more. I'll pack up the shame and return it to sender because I don't want to carry it any longer. It was never mine anyways.

  I'll give those who were/are ashamed of me to God and choose to forgive them. They are as much a product of their culture as I was. I hope they find healing.

  God? Forgive me for believing I had to hide this from You. 

  I feel a gazillion times lighter now.

  I like these white clothes. The soothing salve for my eyes feels marvelous.

  As for next steps, it's more than okay to put boundaries in place to protect Cricket and myself from being stripped of this beautiful new gown. Praise God! Amen!

 

  

  

  

  

  

Body Talk

   "Remove all impurities from silver, and the sterling will be ready for the silversmith." Proverbs 25:4

  Many years ago I did a  months long program, CBT (Cognitive Behavior Therapy.) We were given a sheet with several columns. The first one provided space to write down a negative thought about ourselves or our life. The next column was to make a decision about whether or not it was true. There were a couple more columns in there but I forget exactly what they were. The last column was to write a truth that debunked the first statement.

  CBT is an effective method for brain retraining. It is used to derail old pathways that tear us down and replace them with new, positive and affirming ones. It takes time because one lie is often reinforced over and over again through various life experiences. Oh, that was what the other columns were for, to note similar events or comments reinforcing the first lie. 

  I firmly believe that when we believe a lie, we can't help but look for things that fall in line with our understanding. Or perhaps it is our negative understanding that shapes how the world interacts with us!

  I wasn't well when during this program and had a hard time working through the columns. I did walk away with the understanding that I need to be a good and kind parent to myself. I also knew I could lean into my faith to help me embrace God's truths about everything. He hasn't let me down yet.

  Gina Livy had a phycologist on a couple of weeks ago who simplified CBT into three steps: capture, cancel, correct. I like this version of CBT, it's far less cumbersome. Or maybe it's because I am in a far better place to do the work.

  The program has me thinking about my attitudes towards my body and how it works. (It's a marvelous creation by the way!)

  Marilyn Monroe was a small but curvaceous woman, idolized for her beauty yet some people in the movie industry called her "plump." Then came the model Twiggy in the 60's whose bone baring skinny was the new beautiful. Her legacy has brutalized women for generations. Anorexia and bulimia were born.

  I know nothing else about these women. It's like their identity stopped at their skin. 

  The Dove "Love Yourself" campaign focuses on loving how you look even if you are overweight or have had a mastectomy. It would seem "love worthy" is, once again, directly linked to appearance.

  This little blog is tackling a huge issue in the media that has been compounded by social media platforms: the value of people based on appearance. I admit I join the ranks on a regular basis as a result of the culture I was raised in.

  Capture: Mob mentality is a source of truth.

  Cancel: I am not the Mob.

  Correct: Mob mentality is not God's truth about His creations!

  So where is this heading?

  The Gina program has me growing comfortable with how my body works. The walls of shame are crumbling. God has been bringing many seemingly unrelated incidents to mind that helped build the walls in the first place.

  There's a lot of stuff that comes out of this body that has been the biggest source of shame. Ignorance about the intricate and marvelous ways my body does these "nasty" things compounded the shame. It started early in my life, the lie was fed by experiences, and by my own inner critic who joined the mob by reinforcing the only truth I knew. 

  Dis-gust-ing!! 

  Therefore, I am disgusting. That's another capture by the way and the voice of Cricket, the child I once was. Oh, honey, I am so sorry!

  Cricket, we're not disgusting. 

  Yes, sometimes I am smelly, stinky, burpy, snot nosed, and sweaty (thankfully not all at the same time) but hey, without burping, I would explode. Burps signal I've had enough to eat. A sign unrecognized until now. Learning to hear what my body has to say is of the utmost importance when trying to lose weight!

  And it's finally talking. Or maybe I am finally listening and not running away. Although, running away from my body when it has to take me there is utterly impossible. LOL.

  My body, this temple of the Holy Spirit has a voice worth listening to. A body whose processes of refining the nutrients it needs is accomplished by getting rid of impurities. 

  If my body decides to speak via the resounding sound of trumpets it is doing what it was designed to do. It is letting me know everything is just dandy!

  Oh, dear, I am laughing so hard, the tears are rolling down my face!

  Lord, thank You for keeping it real and for the ability to laugh at what once was shameful and embarrassing! You did say I can take everything to You!

  AMEN!

  

At Its Core

   "Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God--truly righteous and holy." Ephesians 4:23-24

  We have been working hard to get the centre up and running like it was pre-fire. We are almost there but an innocent, off the cuff, surprised comment about something we hadn't got to yet ignited an explosion of fury, disbelief and resentment in my heart. I don't like being angry. It is distasteful to me. It is distasteful to my Lord and my faith.

  The sun went down on my anger and my mind was very unsettled by the day's events. Throughout the night it kept waking me as my subconscious tried to understand why such a little thing had generated such an extreme emotional response.

 

  My friend has been on a journey exploring core values. What I have learned from her is that anger erupts when we feel a core value is being attacked. God honoured my subconscious wrestling by waking me with the need to do the same type of exploration in order to get to the root of the anger.

  I've done a lot of writing about core beliefs but it's mostly been an effort to expose and dispose of the toxic ones, or lies, that have warped my identity and understanding of my place in this world. I haven't really thought about core beliefs or values as being a good thing!

  So what are my core values?

  Do my best.

  Service. 

  Dedication.

  Loyalty.

  Honesty.

  

  I am sure there's more but this is as good a place as any to start because every single one of these five core values got challenged. The challenge wasn't malicious or meant to be cruel, it's how I interpreted it based on past experiences. Coming on the heels of working extra shifts and extra hours, of being committed to getting us up and operational, doing my best didn't make the grade. Sweat equity had no value whatsoever. What, because of the one thing we haven't had time to tackle? How can one thing totally undermine the amazing accomplishments of what we have done!

  But it did. Successes got flushed down the toilet by this one, undone thing. So why?

  If what I do isn't enough, therefore, I am not enough, Boy, that got personal. And the postcards from the past flick through my mind every time this idea has challenged the belief that I was doing my best to the best of my ability at the time. In every situation, doing more was logistically, physically, and emotionally impossible. Yet the devil cried with the snap of a whip, "More!" It happened a lot.

  So what's the next step?

  "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." Jesus on the Cross.

  Since honesty is one of my core values, I'll be honest. The postcard memories have left me feeling rather rattled. I had no idea the hurt ran so deeply yet as I reflect on my childhood and marriage, the demand was always to give more of myself. 

  I gave until there was nothing left.

  So there's some fear in this, too. Fear that I will end up getting lost in doing my best by trying to do more to measure up to someone else's idea of what needs to be done. I am afraid that who I am will vanish in the doing. It does, you know, vanish. I get so wrapped up in serving at all costs it costs me everything. I never want to go down that road again. It's the road to hell.

  So I am sorry. Sorry that I will not sacrifice everything the Lord has restored, rebuilt, and nurtured in me. My life belongs to Him now, not the world or the world's demands. Through Him, I am learning balance and the need for boundaries.

  Maybe, in the not so distant future, I will be able to speak up when my core values are challenged because they are a gift from God and the essence of who He made me to be.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

The Snare of the Fowler

  "This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; for He is my God, and I trust Him. For He will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease." Psalm 91:2-3

  Depending on the Bible translation, "trap" is written as the "snare of the fowler." Fowlers were people who hunted birds. Snares can be a particularly nasty way for an animal to be caught. They are made from a loop of thin rope or wire set to quickly grab hold of the prey's neck when it passes through the loop. This grants the animal a quick and merciful death as the wire tightens with each struggle to break away.

  The thin wire doesn't always end up around the neck.  When a wing or a paw is caught, the animal ends up trapped until the hunter comes to check his snare line. That's why there's laws in place to make sure a trap or snare line is checked every day. If a hunter hunts with snare, gun or bow, the object is to take the animal with minimal suffering. Sadly, not all hunters are this ethical.

  My friend and I took photos of each other on Sunday. They are done weekly to keep a visual record of our progress while on the Gina Livy program. I am down thirteen pounds which is significant! My clothing size no longer has a number before it which is a huge milestone for me.

  However, when I looked at the picture, I felt the fowler's snare tighten around my neck.

  Yesterday, I went through my summer clothes. Many of which are too big!

  However, when I looked in the mirror, the fowler's snare got even tighter.

  What did I see? I saw a women who is still overweight. I saw a woman whose face is deeply etched with the trials her life has brought: lines of sadness, anxiety and suffering are there for all to see. My ex's term about such women leapt to mind, "She's a hard chore." On the heels of that, I couldn't believe how much I looked like his mother whose hard life was one of trauma, trial and bitterness. She, too, was someone her son would call a hard chore. 

  There isn't an official definition for this cruel Irish expression which is decidedly sexist in nature. A hard chore would be a woman who wasn't physically attractive. It would take hard labour to love them because they have zero sex appeal. They are worthless and contemptable because they fail on the sex appeal/beauty barometer. 

  

  I watched a gray haired, gray bearded man in the parking lot of a nearby store. A slim, younger woman approached him on her way to the entrance. He looked her up and down. When she passed him, he turned around and scoped out the view. Twice. I could have lost my S*** on him but he was too far away. In those few moments under his gaze, she became an it, a thing, an object. It gave me the creeps because this is what my ex used to do all the time with other women then make crude and cruel jokes about their appearance.

  Is this what my fowler's snare is made of? The echoes of his voice, his ridicule, his cruelty?

  A snare is firmly tied to an anchor. It could be a wood or metal pin buried deep in the ground or the branch of a tree or bush. My ex's snare was anchored in my childhood understanding that I was far too imperfect to be ever considered beautiful. He simply picked up where others had left off and used it as a weapon of control. How lucky was I to have someone like him love me!

  Yah. And I believed it. (Thank You, once again, my Lord, for setting me free! But, Lord, I want to be even freer!)

  I also believe that's why he got involved with me in the first place. Abusive men always look for women who have been abused. It makes taking control over them much easier. 

  Let's back up a bit and think about why I am doing this program. Because God wants it for me for sure but I think I need to want it for me just as badly.

  First of all, I do not want to be sexually appealing to anyone. I don't want guys like the parking lot creep to do the same to me. Been there, done that and it sucks. I don't want to lose the weight as a form of revenge for all the insults of the past. I don't want to lose the weigh to try and prove my worth in and to the world.

  Oh, Lord, I am very confused this morning. (Smile.) I guess the snare has blocked some of the blood flow to my brain. So maybe I need to ask You, when I look at You, what do You see?

  Determination. Your face reflects how much we have already overcome.

  Grace...the parking lot creep is likely trapped in his own sexual immorality. 

  Sigh...Lord? I wish sometimes You wouldn't help me see Your perspective so quickly and just let me stay ticked off for a bit. And maybe ticked off is the wrong expression. I was deeply troubled by what I witnessed and by the ghosts it stirred up.

  

  Hold on a minute, maybe I don't need to lose the weight to try and prove my worth after all because measuring up to a worldly bathroom scale is the antithesis of everything I believe. 

  I need to lose the weight because I am a child of God. Just as my face displays the scars of the past sin in my life, obesity reveals my sins around food. So often, food was used as an anesthetic to numb the loneliness, appease boredom or to try and comfort my soul. 

  Food has denied my need for God when I turned to it instead.

  Forgive me, my Lord, for all of this.

  I will get thin and in shape because I want more of God in my life. Every single day. 

  

  

  

  

 

Attitudes

   "Your eye is like a lamp that provides light to your body. Whey your eye is healthy, your whole body is filled with light. But when your eye is unhealthy, your whole body is filled with darkness." Matthew 6:22-23

  Mrs. Hummingbird visited the garden shower again last night. I called my friend out so she could see her, too! It makes me wonder if Mama bird has a nest nearby and hears the hose running. She arrived a few bare minutes after I aimed the spray at the veggies. It gave me as big a smile as the last time. I feel honoured by this little gift of a wee bird's trust. 

  It's too early to go outside and work in the gardens. My weed eater died. Its replacement is waiting to tackle the long grass that's growing where the lawn mower can't reach. The neighbours wouldn't appreciate me firing it up this early. There hasn't been time to tackle the long grass which makes the place look shaggy and uncared for. I'll have to go out before it gets too hot all the same but right now, this is what I need to be doing.

  The ribbon marker in my Bible is left at the Sermon on the Mount. The Beatitudes are a favorite go to for the comforting reassurance of Jesus' love when life throws a curve ball my way and the emotions run deep. 

  As I titled this post, a play on words around these beautiful verses leapt to mind: Be Attitudes.

  Emotions form the lens of how we interact with the world and the people in it. Ok. Got it. Understand it. This will be easy to be mindful of.

  Hah!

  Half the time I am utterly unaware of the emotional undercurrents that shape how I treat others. No, it's more than half. It's most of the time.

  Why am I so oblivious? Now that's a loaded question!

  North American culture is notorious for squashing emotions. The "ugly" ones like sadness, grief, or heartbreak have no place in polite society. This creates bigger issues around unexpressed feelings. Anything that is locked up or locked down will eventually need to be released whether we want it to or not. Worse, they will find their way out in decidedly unhealthy ways like addictions, uncontrollable rage, or self harm.

  Depression isn't just being really sad for a long time. I firmly believe depression happens because of the denial of self expression and bottled up emotions. In a post Covid world, there's more people than ever seeking help for depression and anxiety. As a society, we need to learn the skills that have been denied us from childhood.

  I hear the term "emotional regulation" frequently when it comes to teaching children. It's not about regulating or ruling over our feelings. It's finding ways to express them in a healthy manner. 

  Before we can start doing this, we need to learn to identify feelings.  We can't identify what we are feeling if we don't feel them!

  Things might get complicated because human beings are complicated. 

  If it was easy, we wouldn't need Jesus.

  Let's talk bitterness. It can make us rude, uncaring, selfish, and judgmental. Worst of all, it can leave us feeling hopeless and alone. It feeds itself by driving others away. It's a self perpetuating pit of despair.  Ephesians 4:31 commands us to get rid of all bitterness, but how?

  Bitterness doesn't happen overnight, it builds in layer after layer of hurt, pain, disappointment and resentment. Each of these are firmly rooted in anger, the most complex of all our emotions. 

  There is a ton of information available online exploring anger so I won't get into it here.

   

  It takes time to become educated about a subject as complex and marvelous as human emotions. They are a gift from God, even the bad ones. Without them, we wouldn't recognize our need for Him!      

  Emotions are not good or bad in and of themselves. They simply are part of what makes us human. I've realized over the years that one of my greatest sins was denying them because by doing so I was being less than honest with myself and later, Jesus.

  Be Attitude for today is be honest. Take a look at what's stopping you from living in the joy and peace God wants to give you. If you need support, find a counsellor, a pastor or a friend who can help. Write, draw, research, pray and trust in the process of discovery: the evolution of a new Be-ing.

  

 

  

  

  

  

Nailing Things Down

  "Just say a simple 'Yes, I will,' or 'No, I won't.' Anything beyond this is from the evil one." Matthew 5:37

 
  It's day 39 of the Gina Livy program. She calls this the messy middle for a number of reasons. Being bored with the food is one of them but that doesn't apply to me. Food has never tasted so good, the menu has ample variety, and I am learning to listen to what my body wants and needs as far as meals are concerned. Smoked oysters have become a frequent and favorite lunchtime protein. Their smoky, saltiness compliments a plateful of vegies, greens and healthy fats like avocado and hemp hearts.

  There's frustration for people who aren't losing any weight yet because maybe it's taking their bodies longer to heal from past abuses (aka starvation dieting.) This, too, doesn't apply to me. I'm down eleven pounds and can feel and see my body changing shape. 

  Eleven pounds doesn't mesh with the 2 1/2 inches I've lost around my waist. Makes me glad I added taking measurements to the journey. That's the victory here. I think what's happening is my body is getting rid of the fat where it is most harmful. It's cleaning house around my organs to improve their ability to function. Pretty cool, that.

  Then there is staying on track with drinking enough. Some people struggle to get the water in. I am blessed to have well water at home so there's no chlorine in it. Can't stand town water. It smells like a swimming pool. It's no wonder it's hard for people to drink! We purchased a Brita water filter jug at work because the coffee tasted awful when there's chlorine contamination. It also serves to keep my water cup full when I am there. 

  I've been slowly upping the amount I drink because it's been record breaking hot this spring. I never imagined what a difference it makes staying hydrated. Gotta help the body clean house!

  Much of the program is about being mindful of what the body is saying. That's part of the messy middle and how hard it is for people. We are supposed to ask a series of four questions before, during and after we eat. I've not been very good at this but, having become so attuned to my mental state of mind and how it affects my body, I simply need to pause in the moment and pay attention to my stomach. It's just another layer of awareness.

  

  My friend and I have signed up for the fall program. After I did this, I realized I need to cement my, "Why?" What is my reason for doing all these things?

  I think I shared about how my anxiety issues have plummeted. There's been a couple of spikes but with everything going on at work with the move, it's understandable. The worst one was at a church fundraiser/picnic last Sunday. I arrived and within moments the screamin' heebie jeebies set in. Everything was terribly loud so I made the choice to go home instead of forcing myself to ride it out like I usually do. I am learning that it's okay to listen to my body and make the decisions that are appropriate for me. 

  There's a huge difference between running away and making a conscious decision.

  I think this is part of my why: gaining confidence. By doing the program, I realize I can make healthy choices based on what my needs are. No apologies are needed if it is health related, mental or otherwise. Or maybe that's more of a non scale victory.

  If I were to put my "why" into one sentence, what would it be?

  This mind, body and soul are a temple of the Holy Spirit. I take care of my garden outside, the garden inside needs to be nourished and respected. 

  Lord, forgive me for having treated this body with zero respect. Thank You, for all the wonderful things it does! Thank You for helping me stay on track even when I might find myself in my own messy middle at some point down the road. Help me stay the course.

  And maybe that's my why...God wants this for me. He lead the way to healing from the deep mental and emotional wounds. This vessel, this run down, dilapidated temple needs the same love and commitment of my time and resources. God's timing is impeccable because I am well enough to take this on.

  Glory be to God! AMEN!