A Beautiful Weight

Every time the scale goes up, my beauty goes down.

That’s what, if many of us were being honest, we would have to admit that we believe, isn’t it?

I’ve been in a staring contest with that false reality for months now.  To be honest, I’ve blinked and lost. More than once.

 

If only we grow into self-confidence the same way we do our shoe size- automatically and without thought.

If only we believed our family, friends, husbands, and God when they tell us our unique beauty is beautiful. It’s not conditional nor is it based on our current jean size.

I believe that for others- I sincerely do. I just don’t allow myself to believe it for my own body.

I think most of us fight to hold onto the truth that our value isn’t based on our bodies. We know that our worth as women (or men) goes far deeper than our weight. Many of us lose the battle, however, when the fight is whether our actual beauty is defined by our body’s shape or weight.

My struggle keeps taking me back to Proverbs 31:30: 
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

The root of the Hebrew word for “fleeting” in that verse means transitory and unsatisfactory. Solomon spoke truth to the women of his world hundreds of years ago- chasing beauty is chasing something that is ever changing. As I reflected on that, I realized how true it is, even now. Especially now.  The world’s standard of beauty is always changing. Be boyishly skinny. Be slender with a nice butt. Be curvy. Have straight long hair. Have a short angular bob. Have beach waves. Be proud of your body. Change your body.  Size 6 is perfect. Size 4 is the new 6. (Devil Wears Prada anyone?!)

I’ve fallen victim to all of those beauty stages and I’m not even that old! Truly, chasing beauty is chasing a constantly shifting standard. I’m not saying we give up on trying to better ourselves to become healthy, or to never care an iota about our appearance. I am eating better and exercising more than I have in a long time! I wear make-up and love getting new clothes! 

But I am saying that there is a balance to fight for. It’s not worth giving up my “life” to chase an unattainable standard of beauty that limits living. What I mean by that is this:

I don’t want to never eat a cookie with my husband again for fear of the calories. 

I don’t want to ignore my friend’s effort in making a home-cooked dinner by being consumed with calorie consumption. 

I don’t want to pretend I don’t like my mom’s homemade cinnamon rolls at family holidays because I have to fit into my too small pants.

Ladies- I get the struggle. The fight to lose weight while not losing our identity to our jean size is painfully difficult. The fight to believe the truth of God telling us our beauty is not changed by the number on our scale is uphill. The tension to be healthy while still enjoying life is constant. 

There’s no shortcut. There isn’t a formula. There's no 3 step process to success in this area.

It’s a mental battle. An internal fight to change our thought process. A fierce contest to hold onto the truth. But the truth is… I am beautiful in every size of clothing I wear. And so are you.

The truth is as beautifully simple as that.

Popping my bubble

“I’m finding that most Christians find it easier to ask my testimony than deal with my current reality.”

As the young woman sitting across from me said that, I found myself soberly realizing the weight of the truth that one sentence carried.

My mind quickly flooded itself with examples of issues that all too often the American Christian community has deemed it easier to ignore as reality than come to grips with the brutal truth.

Racism. 

It exists. In subtle and not so subtle ways.

Mental disorders.

They’re real. They’re becoming common.

Domestic abuse.

It happens more than most care to admit.

Christian persecution.

Brothers and sisters are dying all around the world.

Syrian refugees.

They need a place to call home.

I’m beginning to admit that all too often I like my bubble too much to let it be popped by the reality of pain that so many people are living in. But it’s time I realized, believed, and consequently acted upon the truth that sacrificing my personal comfort or comfort zone brings about a greater good.  It’s also time to realize that Christ was serious when He said to follow Him meant picking up a cross. (Luke 9:23)

My cross in America isn’t going to be the one fleeing for my life. Maybe my cross is the one standing up for those who are. Not because of anything I can do individually. But because of the power of Christ in me.  The more I research issues stemming from places of hatred, the more I understand why I have a cross to bear.

† People being dismissed as less valuable because God blessed them with a gorgeous skin tone that happens to be different than mine.

† People being turned away from safety because we’re afraid that we’ll run out of room, resources, or comfort with more refugees.

† People being dismissed as dramatic rather than hurting because they have a mental disorder instead of a physical one.

† People being told pain is God’s will because it happens to come from the hand of a husband instead of a stranger.

I, for one, am tired. Tired of choosing myself over my world.  Jesus chose the world when he picked up His cross. It’s time that I choose the world and pick up mine.

Maybe that means…

that I start partnering with local organizations to learn about racism and work together to end it. And maybe I start confronting that friend who crosses the line. And educating that friend who makes well-intentioned but ignorant statements.

Maybe that means…

that I educate myself on resources for people struggling with mental disorders so that I can partner with hurting people instead of being scared, pious, put out, or uncomfortable around them. And maybe that I don’t instruct that friend to pray their way out of depression and instead I just listen to the pain they’re living in.

Maybe that means…

that I realize domestic abuse is a real and terrifying reality for many women in church-going homes across this country and I research ways to actually help or pray for women in that situation. And maybe instead of joking about spousal abuse, I start to invest my time helping agencies who help women.

Maybe that means…

 that I start sacrificially giving to organizations that are helping underground churches around the world so that my brothers and sisters who are fighting for their lives will receive some support from a family across the ocean. And maybe I start with something as simple as supporting a child in need through a reputable organization.

Maybe that means …

that I contact my congressmen and senators that I’m deeply saddened that they have decided we have no room in our state for those running for their lives. Especially given the fact that we’re closing in on the Christmas season. And maybe I find out what organizations in my city or state are working to help refugees and I consider going on a mission trip or opening up my home to help them.

So then, that means…

That one day, I’ll wake up and see a difference in my world, and know that it came from a single small step of obedience that God blessed into an unimaginably wondrous answer to prayer.

3 Life Lessons from Another Generation

As much as I hate to admit this, I’m not really a “young adult” anymore.  I’ve been out of college *cough* years, and so although I’m not a “middle-aged” person, it pains me to admit that some might say I’m closer to that life stage than I am the college life stage.

And yet, as I age grow-up, I am realizing how badly I want to keep a student’s heart! Why? Because this younger generation is inspiring. And I don't mean in the fluffy “you can be whatever you want” type of way but in the reality that "life can be rough" type of way.  

1. Giving free forgiveness

It’s unbelievable to me to see how much students have been hurt. In ridiculous and sometimes horrible ways.  I’ve sat through conversation after conversation in the past few months / years, listening to girls stories and finding out deep wounds that would leave most shaken and destroyed.  But much to my shock, not only are these young people standing stronger in their faith than before, they are walking in grace.

I’ve seen the practical obedience to the hard commands to love enemies and forgive brothers as they’ve said things like:

“She wasn’t trying to be like that. She was just ignorant.”

“It’s ok. God’s grace is deeper.” 

“I can’t judge them- I’ve made mistakes in my past too.”

“I don’t understand it. I’m hurt by it. But I don’t want to stay in this place.”

Their statements are eerily similar to Jesus’ words:

Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; * But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you; ** Father forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.” ***

I can’t help but ask myself, when was the last time I sounded just like Jesus especially in an area as hard as forgiveness?

2. Crying S.O.S.

If you’ve texted with someone under the age of 30 recently, then you may have noticed that the SOS signal is the commonly used abbreviation for HELP in texting.  We won’t discuss whether or not I think SOS is a warranted cry when the text is that they need to borrow a pencil… but I do understand the distress signal for say, chocolate chip cookies!

Regardless, students have no issue with sending the SOS flare.

SOS! I need a flat iron!

SOS! That cute boy from math class said hi!

SOS! I can’t understand Bio!

SOS! My parents are getting divorced.

SOS! I don’t understand why God allowed this to happen.

SOS! My heart is breaking for my friend.

The cries range in heaviness but all are real. All are genuine needs.

At what point in my life did I transition from feeling like I can ask for help for any of life’s situations into the unrealistic belief that I have to be perfectly put together and never admit I need anything? Maybe even more important than asking the when is to ask the why?

Why do we not send the SOS flare when life takes a screeching turn in a direction we never saw coming? Why do we pretend that we’re not shaken, bruised, and distraught?

When was the last time I was genuine enough to ask for help?

3. Living fully

Somewhere along the road of “adulthood,” you learn a secret shortcut… you learn to stop thinking introspectively. It requires too much energy.  Instead, you { I } just go with the flow. We do what we need to do in order to be successful at our jobs, a good member of our family, and an active church member. Rarely do we stop to creatively think of ways to improve ourselves, our relationships, and our spiritual walk.  

It’s as if we are settling for surviving instead of living.

Yet as I have conversations with students, rarely are they content to survive. Instead they want to glean every memory, every experience from their lives.  They want to change in order to better themselves instead of focusing on how to better others.

Now I get that, realistically, as we age we lose some of that energy, but yet we also supposedly gain wisdom. So why don’t apply that wisdom to pick which areas of my life to still exert the most energy so that I can get the most return?

What do I mean?  

• Why do I spend so much energy on obsessing over the little things in my job instead of praying over the people I work with?
• Why do I spend so much energy on trying to meet the world’s fleeting view of beauty instead of spending time investing in my eternal relationship with Christ?
• Why do I get caught up in drama when I could be studying wisdom?

So now what….

I’m learning to learn from those younger than me.

To be a bit more humble when it comes to life.

I’m learning that instead of discounting the younger generation because they haven’t made it to my life stage yet, maybe I should be acquiring their qualities.

To not be so quick to judge. So quick to fix things alone. So quick to survive.

I’m learning that maybe the younger ones have an outlook that actually looks more like Jesus’ than my own.

*Lk 6:37

**Lk 6:27

*** Lk 22:34

I am insecure.

I am insecure.

It’s difficult to write those words, but even harder to admit them.

It’s not in every area. Probably not even in the areas you would expect.  It’s in the areas that I myself would not expect because there isn’t any reason for me to be uncertain in them. 

I came to this epiphany late one night rather recently. I was reflecting on a conversation that I had with someone very close to me. It was truly a “light bulb” moment for me because in that quiet moment of reflection, I saw the conversation for what it really was:

A manipulative way for me to have my status of importance affirmed by someone else- someone whose approval meant a great deal to me.

It wasn’t an intentional manipulation- for most of us, it never is.  But it was manipulative nonetheless. As I realized the cold reality of my motivation in that conversation, I started to think back to other scenarios’ with other people, and to my chagrin and slight horror, I began to see a repetitive pattern that has thread its way through my relationships.

You see- despite being an introvert, I’m secure on most public fronts. I enjoy speaking in public. I usually have no problems voicing a dissenting opinion to a group.  Often, I roar as I’ve stated on this blog before.  So you can imagine my surprise when I came to terms with the fact that there is an entirely different side of me when it comes to my valuable people- family and friends.

It seems as though there are times where my roar struggles to come out as anything more than a whimper.

Sound familiar? I don’t know that I’m alone in the struggle.

The thread I saw weaving itself through my relationships look something like the following:

• Questions I ask that force someone else to either affirm their love for me or sound like a jerk.
• Conversations where I discuss how they’ve hurt me without allowing for or even caring for an explanation of their actions.  Much less a chance for them to explain how I’ve hurt them.
• Times that I have “tested” those I care about to see if they respond “correctly.”

As I reflected on the awkward position that I put my loved ones in at times, I realized that not only was insecurity running the show, but I also was being anything BUT loving in those moments- totally conflicting to my purpose of trying to feel more loved.

Some might remember a lesson I learned and shared a while back about how love should be fearless. 1 John 4:18 says “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fear has not been perfected in love.”

When I put someone to the “test” to see if they genuinely care for me, I am giving them a reason to fear. The Greek root for the word “fear” in that verse has a meaning of “fleeing because feeling inadequate”.

Nobody enjoys having the friend that says every 5.4 seconds “I’m so ugly. You’re so pretty. I’m so fat. You’re so skinny. I’m so boring. You’re so cool.”

Why? It makes you want to flee! Her continual statements of self-doubt show you that no matter what you say, you can’t convince her otherwise…. Or in other words, you feel like fleeing because you are inadequate of changing her mind.

Ding-Ding-Ding. I Get It.

We all have continual doubts we battle and some of us then “test” with our loved ones. Doubts on whether or not:

• my best friend will love me through that mistake,
  
• I’m worth spending time with,
• my parents will forgive me no matter what,
• my siblings will accept my flaws,
• my husband will always love me- quirks and all,
• my friends still value my friendship even when hanging out with other friends,
• my beauty isn’t determined by the scale,
• my impact on others will be long-lasting,
• my mistake doesn’t change God’s love.

By showing our refusal to believe their words the first, second, hundredth, thousandth time(s), we are in essence telling them that they are unable to persuade us otherwise, and their promises are nice but worthless. Which of course would cause most people fearful that they will never change our minds! 

No wonder there is no place for fear in love! It destroys relationships!

So.  The new goal is to fight the urge to ask the manipulative question, while reminding myself that I love them enough to keep them from fearing me! But I would be lying if I didn’t also say that I know there will still be days when I need affirmation.

So on those days instead of testing the person I’m with so that when they answer correctly I feel better about myself, why don’t I own the security?

Hey- I know this is not true, but I’m really struggling with _________________ today. Will you pray for me?

Maybe instead of them judging me, they’ll pray with me. Maybe they’ll appreciate my honesty and feel like they can be honest back. Maybe they’ll remember that the next time they feel insecure, and they’ll have courage to own it too.

If each woman, young or old, starts owning her insecurities,
we just might find that we’re all more alike than we realize.

We just might find that someone else has battled and overcome the same security we are currently fighting.

We just might find that the insecurity doesn’t hold the same power over our mind when we’ve voiced it to someone else.

[After all, there is power in numbers.]

We just might find that we can give and receive love.

WithOUT Fear.

Newlywed Season OVER!

That’s right… our newlywed season is officially in the past! We are 1 day into the “rest of our marriage” which means it’s time for my semi-annual marriage post. Lessons learned from my marriage. #round2 #2ndanniversary

You might remember some previous ones. I’ve heard from quite a few of you that it has forever changed your approach to loading the silverware in the dishwasher.  (Aaron still holds that over my head.) I was also reminded just this weekend how vital it is to never leave hints. Always be blunt. As blunt as possible. Everytime.

As I’ve been reflecting on marriage and the lessons learned now that we’re ending the “newlywed” phase, there are some new lessons that are taking priority right now.

1. Compromise saves marriages... probably even the world #likeforreal

• If you do not want to learn every possible way to roll your eyes at your spouse for breaking into song every 1.5 minutes on a 9 hour road trip, compromise.
• If you want to spend your tax-return money on Coach purses, and he wants to spend it on a 1,000 inch television, compromise.
• If you want to lay in bed and watch hours of movies with his shoulder as your pillow, and his shirt as your Kleenex, compromise.
• If you’re not sure that you want your in-laws to live with you 11.75 months out of the year, compromise.

Are you getting the point?

Compromise is not something I like to do. I like to have my way. All. The. Time. But, I’m learning compromise makes life more enjoyable and less stressful in the long-run.

Here’s some of the areas we’ve learned to compromise in …

Aaron likes to burst into song… loudly (some might even say obnoxiously) So the compromise is that he gets to sing his heart out for one/two/three songs, and then I at some point get to chime in and say “That’s it! Sing it inside!”  Which he then finishes the song in his head, complete with hand motions, choreography, and facial expressions… but no noise.

When I get in the mood to be lazy, he knows I’m going to basically be worthless for a lot of hours. And it’s typically at the same time that he’s in the mood to “be productive”. So, I’m learning to “be productive” for one or two projects…and then go in a different room and be lazy guilt-free, but without him, while he can continue scurrying around accomplishing all sorts of goals and achievements.

Don’t misunderstand me, there are some things to never compromise. Don’t compromise on your values and morals. Compromise on the daily tasks, the quirky habits, the eccentric tendencies that can drive the other person nuts. 

But discuss your values. Talk about your morals.

Compromise on preferences not on sin.

2. Accept the reality that your spouse is not the leading role in a chick-flick. #dropmyexpectations #ain’tnobodyflawless

  ·         Aaron does not read my mind.

  ·         Aaron does not wake up with good breath.

  ·         Aaron does not stare into my eyes for hours on end getting lost in their “unfathomable depths.”

         Who has time for that?!

Similarly…

·         I do not read Aaron’s mind.

·         I do not wake up with good breath. Or good hair.

·        I do not have perfect hair, make-up, & accessories every time we go out

        Who has time for that?!

The truth is it’s easy to convince yourself that “he should know __________ !” when in all reality, unless he’s watch 897 chick-flicks and been able to string together which ones you personally identify, he would have absolutely no idea that when you say you don’t like getting flowers, you mean that 99.8% of the time, but that .2% when you do is for the situation that you are going through RIGHT NOW, which obviously calls for flowers!!!!

My life will never look like a romantic comedy. Some days might slightly echo it. But most days it’s far too “real” for that.  So instead, let me learn to celebrate my man’s strengths and see the godliness reflected in his character. Let me embrace the reality of living forever with someone and all the fights, silliness, scars, ups and downs that come with that.

3. Live by these words: Never get a puppy.  Just Kidding! #notreally #justsayno

Actually…

4. Live by these words… Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins. {1 Peter 4:8} #onlywaytosurvive #lovecovers

When he’s wronged me. {Love} It covers the sin.

When I’ve wronged him. {Love} It covers the sin.

When we’ve both been wrong. {Love} It covers the sin.

I’m going to be honest. Some days I’m awful at this. I hold onto the sin. I bring up the failure. I carry the grudge.

And all it does is create deeper wounds. Bigger scars. Harsher fights.

But when I allow love to cover the sin- it envelopes the offense so that I can look through a lens of healing instead bitterness.

Yes, there’s still hurt. There’s still a wound. There might even be stitches.

{But it heals.}

 It doesn’t fester. It doesn’t get worse. It doesn’t spread.

{It’s restored.}

To my surprise, I’m realizing that the lessons learned in marriage are actually beneficial to my other relationships. #shocker  This stuff isn’t just for my marriage. It’s for my sister. My brothers. My parents. My friends. My co-workers. My staff.

Am I living and loving well?

1 John 4:19 We love each other because God loved us first.

Life in 288 square feet.

 Life in 288 square feet.

My husband, puppy Oreo, and I are in “transition” which is code for the fact that 3 of us, 2 people and a puppy, are sharing a bedroom and a bathroom with a grand total of less than 300 square feet. Not surprisingly, the puppy seems to be thrilled! She’s never had this much constant access to us before. Well, we’ve actually never had this much constant access to each other before either!

Earlier this summer, we watched one of those HGTV shows that highlighted a couple deciding to move into a “tiny house.” We thought they were crazy.  And yet here we are. Not quite a house but just as tiny. I’ve learned some valuable lessons in this tiny space, some that will probably stay with me a while.

1. No matter how much you “puppy proof” a room, you’ll always miss something. And they will always locate it. And then devour it. And then spit it out. And then look at you with that cute but guilty and devilish look as you clean it up.
2. Packing while in a large house for a tiny space isn’t effective. You really aren’t in the zone. Like at all. Although it made sense at the time to have a different bag for every type of item or clothing, now you’re living with stacks of suitcases surrounding falling onto you.  Why did I think it was a good idea to have a bag just for t-shirts?  Why do I even have enough t-shirts to fill a bag??
3. Zig Ziglar was right when he said “Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.”  But he failed to mention that it will not determine the size of your living area. 

In this temporary place, I’m constantly noticing that our life is transitioning. To new places, new normals, new routines. But before we get to experience all those exciting outcomes, however, I’m learning that I must first be reminded of the reality of life. The reality of relationships. The reality of faith. Only then do I really appreciate the new life.

So, today I thanked God for the chance to be here. Yes, here, in this 288 square feet room with questions swirling, a puppy panting, and a husband studying. 

Because here tells me that God cares.  He cares so much more….

• More about my character than my happiness.
• More about teaching me what’s actually important in my life than providing me with all of life’s walk-in closets and double vanities.
• More about appreciating that my husband is leading us to walk in faith and not comfort. 
• More about understanding that God is faithful to provide. Always.
• More about learning that God’s provision are best for me even if they don’t align to exactly what I ask and when I ask for it.

So, with that in mind, I’m trying to appreciate the here. One day, when we’re there, I’ll be reminded of how grateful I was for the lessons in the here.

In the meantime, I have to go find out what my puppy just did. She has that “look” again.  Excuse my chanting…. They do say repetition leads to retention after all….

Be grateful for the here... Be grateful for the here… Be grateful for the here… Be grateful for the here…