I'm such a weird person.
I like quilting, crocheting, and all sorts of craft mediums.
I like foot ball. A lot. And baseball. And curling. Curling is awesome. Probably the only Olympic Sport I could ever even consider.
I like Christian music. I also like club dance music, 90s rap, rock, and oldies.
I do not really care about TV. But I love to relax on the couch and watch it.
I love working out. I like improving my strength and proving people wrong - especially when they make conclusions about me based on my size. I like feeling like I did something good for myself. I like feeling like I accomplished something.
I also really really really like to eat. Which is why I can't lose weight. Diets are of the devil.
I love shopping. But I also really like knowing that I'm already aggressively investing for retirement, unlike most people my age. So sometimes retirement planning gets in the way of my shopping.
But I am not materialistic -- I prefer to keep my house very neat and tidy and void of knick-knacks and excessive stuff (a result of growing up in a house that had stuff EVERYWHERE).
I am at heart a hippie -- I love nature, art, and artsy fartsy things. I like hiking. I like finding quiet places where I can just sit and be in awe of this Earth.
But I hate bugs. Especially spiders. I understand their ecological role but would prefer them all be dead.
I am not afraid of hard work -- I often surprise my husband when I jump in and just get things done around the house (trimming the hedges, mowing the lawn, replacing toilet parts, lugging tree limbs to the truck with the rest of the guys). I end up doing a lot of 'manly' chores around the house only because it needs to be done and to help my husband -- and honestly, I enjoy those things.
But I will not get near spider webs that need to be cleaned. Or install blinds. Or take the time to install a long curtain rod. I am perfectly capable of lifting the very heavy objects that need lifting, but why worry about it when my husband is available?
I hate cleaning a bathroom.
But I also hate having a messy/dirty/unkept house. So I clean the bathrooms too; even though I hate it.
I am a child of God.
With a mind stuck in the gutter. It's a difficult place to be - trust me.
I want to be cute and dress cute and look cute.
But I'd rather be wearing a pair of exercise pants and oversized tshirt with a sports bra with my hair pulled back. Working at a gym was awesome - I got to wear my favorite clothes every day. And it was okay.
I want kids. Badly.
But I'm not sure I'm ready to be so self-less with my life and give up all my time and money.
Generally, I am a culmination of a crap ton of characteristics that just don't make any sense.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
Friday, August 25, 2017
Fat to Fit: A Trainers Effect
So about two years ago, shortly after we bought our house, we joined a nearby gym. It was a satellite location that they put in a strip mall, but I liked that it was smaller -- I felt less intimidated. I'd gone through a really rough year - getting married was not what I'd expected it to be and I'd fallen into a deep depression - and as a result had gained a bunch of weight. I suddenly found myself a "fat girl," which was really hard to realize considering I used to be the "fit girl" who ran 3 miles 3-5 times a week, taught boot camp classes, enjoyed yoga, and ate very healthy.
But going from fit to fat shook me to my very core. It changed everything about me - my self confidence, my endurance, my strength, my faith, and even confidence in my education about health and wellness. As a "fat girl" for the second time around (I'd "beat it" once in college thanks to a nasty break up and anxiety driven anorexic behavior patterns), I didn't know where to start.
So my husband said: "Just go. Just start. Just do what you can."
So I did. I went and got on the elliptical. I stuck to that for a while. Then I played around with body weight exercises. I had no real direction. No real plan. I tried the Body Building .com app that made the plans for me, but I didn't like how slow those workouts went. I tried pinterest workouts, but didn't feel like I was balancing the muscle groups properly. Then a co-worker encouraged me to try the only group fitness class they offered at the satellite location -- a 30min high intensity boot camp class.
I showed up having no idea what to expect. But as a former trainer, I knew that there were plenty of modifications that could be given for ANY exercise and that as someone who was severely out of shape, my game plan was to simply do what I could and rest when I needed to.
I didn't know that the class would be outside. It was well into the 90's that day with heavy humidity. I didn't know that we'd run laps around the entire shopping strip - which was humiliating as I could barely run 300 feet at a time. I didn't know that we would be doing bear crawls up/down hills. I didn't know that we'd be doing a workout that required everyone to complete each task before being able to move on to the next task -- and that I was always the one holding the class up, that everyone would be standing around staring at me waiting for me to finish, because I wasn't allowed to "cut short" any reps.
I was surrounded by people who had been doing these workouts for months/years. They were used to it. The trainer offered no modifications and when I created a modification for myself I was singled out and humiliated again - I was told to return to the "full" exercise (to stop modifying), when I stopped for a moment to take a breath I was told that I could rest at the end of the workout (self initiated rest breaks were not allowed). That was the first time in my life that I legitimately thought I was going to pass out. The participants taking the class (that had been doing it for a while) laughed and joked "Oh yeah; I remember my first class." The trainer made continuous comments about why it's so important to make healthy eating choices (directing them at me, the fat girl). At one point I sat on a curb, dizzy with heat and exhaustion and dehydration (I literally couldn't see - portions of my vision had gone black), nearly about to puke, sweat pouring down my face, and I just started to silently cry. And there comes the trainer, squatting down in front of me: "Feeling like that sucks. But this is why you should never let yourself go."
I wanted to quit. Walk out. Crawl under a rock and die. But the humiliation was so extreme I felt like that wasn't an option.
I had stepped out on a limb, desperate for help and direction in my journey towards losing the weight and regaining back everything I had lost. And instead of being treated with kindness and respect -- because lets face it, it takes IMMENSE bravery as a fat girl to sign up for a boot camp class -- I was treated like dirt. I was talked down to. I was made fun of. I was given no mercy or encouragement at all. I was bullied. I was made to feel worthless, unimportant, and like a failure.
As a former trainer, I knew that everything this girl was doing and saying was wrong. But as a fat girl who had lost all of her confidence, what was done and said to me cut me deeply. I left that workout broken. I left that workout believing that there was no point in me even trying to be better or get better.
It's been two years. Yet even now there are times when that workout comes back to me vividly. I return to feeling broken, worthless, like a failure, pointless. It renders me to tears every time that workout comes back to me.
Every time I walk into that gym, I still feel like I'm inadequate. That I shouldn't be taking up space and air there. And to this day I'm too scared to try a boot camp class. I'll sign up for a HIIT class. But I won't sign up for a boot camp class.
Since then, I accidentally took a Zumba class by that same trainer at another location. She remembered me. And in the mic, in front of the whole class, she recalled that boot camp class: "Oh, you're the one that cried, aren't you?" I wanted to yell at her -- "Yes. And you're the trainer that doesn't care - who is not good at their job, who doesn't recognize when limits are reached, and who believes that bullying someone is good for them." But I didn't. I was mortified in front of another class for being identified as the crier. So I just nodded and was nothing but miserable during that class too.
I recall this story because I think trainers forget just how influential they are. That it only takes one bad trainer to forever scar a client against trainers/classes/fitness. That one class with experiences like that does NOT inspire a fat girl to be better. In fact, it sets her back. WAY back. I'm still fat two years later. I struggle even more with feelings of inadequacy and failure and worth. The emotional damage that can be done is real.
Trainers should not treat their unfit clients like dirt. It takes more courage as an unfit person to not just go to the gym but to SIGN UP FOR A CLASS than it does a fit person. The unfit person is where you as a trainer have the PERFECT OPPORTUNITY to HELP someone in NEED. The fit people are easy to train -- they can take anything. But it's the unfit people who need you the most, who need your guidance, your encouragement, your appropriate tough love. It's the unfit people who are the toughest because they're there, willing to accept your direction and advice. But that does not give you the right to demean or diminish them. There is a difference between challenging someone/showing someone that they can do more than they think they can and bullying/demeaning them.
I have taken other classes from other trainers and had wonderful experiences. But that one horrible (and first) experience as a fat girl continues to haunt me. It continues to make me second guess and often just not sign up for classes that I know I need. It continues to plague me with feelings of failure and inferiority and unworthiness. It only takes one trainer, one nightmare workout, to do serious damage. I plead to the trainers out there: don't be that one.
But going from fit to fat shook me to my very core. It changed everything about me - my self confidence, my endurance, my strength, my faith, and even confidence in my education about health and wellness. As a "fat girl" for the second time around (I'd "beat it" once in college thanks to a nasty break up and anxiety driven anorexic behavior patterns), I didn't know where to start.
So my husband said: "Just go. Just start. Just do what you can."
So I did. I went and got on the elliptical. I stuck to that for a while. Then I played around with body weight exercises. I had no real direction. No real plan. I tried the Body Building .com app that made the plans for me, but I didn't like how slow those workouts went. I tried pinterest workouts, but didn't feel like I was balancing the muscle groups properly. Then a co-worker encouraged me to try the only group fitness class they offered at the satellite location -- a 30min high intensity boot camp class.
I showed up having no idea what to expect. But as a former trainer, I knew that there were plenty of modifications that could be given for ANY exercise and that as someone who was severely out of shape, my game plan was to simply do what I could and rest when I needed to.
I didn't know that the class would be outside. It was well into the 90's that day with heavy humidity. I didn't know that we'd run laps around the entire shopping strip - which was humiliating as I could barely run 300 feet at a time. I didn't know that we would be doing bear crawls up/down hills. I didn't know that we'd be doing a workout that required everyone to complete each task before being able to move on to the next task -- and that I was always the one holding the class up, that everyone would be standing around staring at me waiting for me to finish, because I wasn't allowed to "cut short" any reps.
I was surrounded by people who had been doing these workouts for months/years. They were used to it. The trainer offered no modifications and when I created a modification for myself I was singled out and humiliated again - I was told to return to the "full" exercise (to stop modifying), when I stopped for a moment to take a breath I was told that I could rest at the end of the workout (self initiated rest breaks were not allowed). That was the first time in my life that I legitimately thought I was going to pass out. The participants taking the class (that had been doing it for a while) laughed and joked "Oh yeah; I remember my first class." The trainer made continuous comments about why it's so important to make healthy eating choices (directing them at me, the fat girl). At one point I sat on a curb, dizzy with heat and exhaustion and dehydration (I literally couldn't see - portions of my vision had gone black), nearly about to puke, sweat pouring down my face, and I just started to silently cry. And there comes the trainer, squatting down in front of me: "Feeling like that sucks. But this is why you should never let yourself go."
I wanted to quit. Walk out. Crawl under a rock and die. But the humiliation was so extreme I felt like that wasn't an option.
I had stepped out on a limb, desperate for help and direction in my journey towards losing the weight and regaining back everything I had lost. And instead of being treated with kindness and respect -- because lets face it, it takes IMMENSE bravery as a fat girl to sign up for a boot camp class -- I was treated like dirt. I was talked down to. I was made fun of. I was given no mercy or encouragement at all. I was bullied. I was made to feel worthless, unimportant, and like a failure.
As a former trainer, I knew that everything this girl was doing and saying was wrong. But as a fat girl who had lost all of her confidence, what was done and said to me cut me deeply. I left that workout broken. I left that workout believing that there was no point in me even trying to be better or get better.
It's been two years. Yet even now there are times when that workout comes back to me vividly. I return to feeling broken, worthless, like a failure, pointless. It renders me to tears every time that workout comes back to me.
Every time I walk into that gym, I still feel like I'm inadequate. That I shouldn't be taking up space and air there. And to this day I'm too scared to try a boot camp class. I'll sign up for a HIIT class. But I won't sign up for a boot camp class.
Since then, I accidentally took a Zumba class by that same trainer at another location. She remembered me. And in the mic, in front of the whole class, she recalled that boot camp class: "Oh, you're the one that cried, aren't you?" I wanted to yell at her -- "Yes. And you're the trainer that doesn't care - who is not good at their job, who doesn't recognize when limits are reached, and who believes that bullying someone is good for them." But I didn't. I was mortified in front of another class for being identified as the crier. So I just nodded and was nothing but miserable during that class too.
I recall this story because I think trainers forget just how influential they are. That it only takes one bad trainer to forever scar a client against trainers/classes/fitness. That one class with experiences like that does NOT inspire a fat girl to be better. In fact, it sets her back. WAY back. I'm still fat two years later. I struggle even more with feelings of inadequacy and failure and worth. The emotional damage that can be done is real.
Trainers should not treat their unfit clients like dirt. It takes more courage as an unfit person to not just go to the gym but to SIGN UP FOR A CLASS than it does a fit person. The unfit person is where you as a trainer have the PERFECT OPPORTUNITY to HELP someone in NEED. The fit people are easy to train -- they can take anything. But it's the unfit people who need you the most, who need your guidance, your encouragement, your appropriate tough love. It's the unfit people who are the toughest because they're there, willing to accept your direction and advice. But that does not give you the right to demean or diminish them. There is a difference between challenging someone/showing someone that they can do more than they think they can and bullying/demeaning them.
I have taken other classes from other trainers and had wonderful experiences. But that one horrible (and first) experience as a fat girl continues to haunt me. It continues to make me second guess and often just not sign up for classes that I know I need. It continues to plague me with feelings of failure and inferiority and unworthiness. It only takes one trainer, one nightmare workout, to do serious damage. I plead to the trainers out there: don't be that one.
Saturday, July 29, 2017
I have had a lot on my mind these last few days. A LOT.
I've been at my current job now for a year and a half. I love love love what I do. I haven't worked at the hospital now in several months -- the two schedules just haven't been lining up for me to do so. And the last week or so, I've received lots of text messages asking if I can work at the hospital on certain days. And my reaction to those text messages is very telling...
When I think about working at the hospital, I do not react positively. I am filled with complete and total dread. I don't want to go and work there at all. I dread the pressure. I dread the stress. I dread the negativity. I dread that because of the pressure and stress, that I will be drenched in sweat by the end of the day. I dread criticisms. I dread not doing a good enough job. I dread the drive. I dread the relentless nature of that place. I always feel like I've been chewed up and spat back out by the end of the day.
If I were to stop working there, that reaction would be removed. I would not have to worry about it. But if I stop working there, then I would not have an opportunity to continue practicing. To keep my skills at least moderately sharp. I can maintain my licensure without working, but if I were to need to go back to that profession at any time, would that make me a less interesting candidate? And if I stopped working at the hospital, I don't know of many places that would want to hire someone that only wants to work 1-2 days a month.
I don't want to give up my PTA license or that "back up plan." I worked too hard to earn it. But I also don't think I want to continue working at the hospital. I just don't know what to do...
I've been at my current job now for a year and a half. I love love love what I do. I haven't worked at the hospital now in several months -- the two schedules just haven't been lining up for me to do so. And the last week or so, I've received lots of text messages asking if I can work at the hospital on certain days. And my reaction to those text messages is very telling...
When I think about working at the hospital, I do not react positively. I am filled with complete and total dread. I don't want to go and work there at all. I dread the pressure. I dread the stress. I dread the negativity. I dread that because of the pressure and stress, that I will be drenched in sweat by the end of the day. I dread criticisms. I dread not doing a good enough job. I dread the drive. I dread the relentless nature of that place. I always feel like I've been chewed up and spat back out by the end of the day.
If I were to stop working there, that reaction would be removed. I would not have to worry about it. But if I stop working there, then I would not have an opportunity to continue practicing. To keep my skills at least moderately sharp. I can maintain my licensure without working, but if I were to need to go back to that profession at any time, would that make me a less interesting candidate? And if I stopped working at the hospital, I don't know of many places that would want to hire someone that only wants to work 1-2 days a month.
I don't want to give up my PTA license or that "back up plan." I worked too hard to earn it. But I also don't think I want to continue working at the hospital. I just don't know what to do...
Friday, July 28, 2017
Matthew 3: Bible Study with Reflections
These are my personal reflections and thoughts as I study the Bible. They are not doctrine. They are not God's word but rather my reactions and thoughts after reading God's word. They are shared here only because it's easy for me to type them. They are my most personal and intimate thoughts because they are my thoughts on my faith. They represent learning and growing with God. I share them to be transparent about my faith -- where it's strong, where it's weak, where I find fault with modern American Christianity, where I believe I can be better, where I believe the Church can be better. They reflect confusion at times, frustration at times, anger at times -- particularly when certain verses are used to malign people from God. But they also reflect my love for God, my gratitude for Jesus, and my desire to be God's Girl in how HE (not in how any preacher or other follower or the world) call me to live and think and treat others and to approach life --- with Love, Respect, Kindness, Patience, and with Joy.
Verse 5: People from Jerusalem and from all of Judea and all over the Jordan Valley went out to see and hear John.
My initial thought to this verse was "Oh man! The original mega preacher. The original Joel Osteen." Which of course just made me giggle.
Verse 8-9: Prove by the way you live that you have repented of your sins and turned to God. Don’t just say to each other, ‘We’re safe, for we are descendants of Abraham.’ That means nothing, for I tell you, God can create children of Abraham from these very stones.
Here, John the Baptist was speaking to the Pharisees and Sadducees who were watching his sermons and baptisms as if they were a spectacle, a joke, entertainment. They did not treat these baptisms and conversions with the great respect that they deserved. These people who were being baptized were confessing their sins and turning their backs on their old ways, turning back to God and using their baptism as a reflection of being washed clean and starting anew. But the Pharisees and Sadducees mocked these baptisms -- looking down their noses at the "peasants" because they believed themselves better, holier, untouchable because of their ancestry and positions. But John the Baptist retorted to their mockery with this verse. Reminding us that birthright does not guarantee salvation. How we live our lives is a testament to our beliefs, our faith. Their lack of love towards their neighbor, their greed, their meanness -- those are not characteristics of someone living for God.
Verse 10: Even now the ax of God’s judgment is poised, ready to sever the roots of the trees. Yes, every tree that does not produce good fruit will be chopped down and thrown into the fire.
"produce good fruit" has regularly been interpreted as converting people to the Christian faith. That interpretation I think has created this pressure that if we don't convert people, then we're doomed. Too many people take that pressure and it just takes over. They become pushy, unreasonable, "my way or the highway." You can't talk to those people who believe that their only purpose in life is to convert as many people as they can to Jesus' kingdom. They are a brick wall, blind to other peoples opinions, struggles, fears, concerns, points of view. They can't relate to people who struggle -- struggle doesn't compute in their brains because they believe that as long as you are in Gods Will, that everything will be fine. And if everything isn't fine, then that is because you are not in God's Will and are thus in Rebellion against God. It's the most frustrating, closed off version of a Christian that exists. They believe in grace only for those who are good. They are the modern Pharisee and Sadducee.
But I think that "produce good fruit" is not just about winning people to Jesus. I think it's about living honestly, being kind, being patient, being understanding, being generous, being helpful to others, loving others. Good fruit in my opinion is referring to the fruit of the spirit spoken about in Galatians 5:22-23: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
Yes, "winning" converts to Christ is good and wonderful. But that is not the only good fruit! Good fruit is embodying the fruits of the spirit -- living your life according to those fruits of the spirit. And I truly believe that when you live the way that Christ actually wanted you to live (The greatest of these is love), then you "win" converts to Christ by your example. Witnessing and working to convert people should not be what modern Christianity teaches -- hellfire, brimstone, "convert or go too hell." Witnessing is simply leading by example. It's not about being holier than thou. It's not about being better than others. It's not about placing yourself at a higher importance than someone else. It's about being approachable, kind, joyful, patient, gentle. IT'S THE FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT!
Verse 11 (partial verse): He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire
I can honestly say that my baptism was absolutely the most spiritual experience of my life. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. That baptism was so powerful -- it cemented my relationship with God. It was amazing to confess my sins, my history, my past and to turn my back to those ways. To instead be dunked into the river and come up clean. God was there, and he celebrated. I was physically washed by the water, but I was spiritually washed by the Holy Spirit. But John the Baptist also mentions that we will be baptized with fire.
For a long time, I didn't really know what that meant, how it would manifest itself in my life. For a long time, I just kind of overlooked that part. "Oh that part doesn't apply," I would think. How stupid I was.
My fire didn't come for a few years. But it came. My fire baptism was a period in my life that tested my faith and my beliefs. I had a worldly situation arise that shook and tested every single part of my life. My marriage almost failed. My finances were almost ruined. My health deteriorated. I found myself also in the middle of the deepest depression I'd experienced yet. I was in the middle of a career crisis. And all of this happened at the same time. Which of course also tested my faithfulness. I firmly believe that this was my earthly fire baptism. I'd had a few years to plant roots with God, to set up routines, and to learn and read more of the Bible. He gave me a foundation setting period. Then it was all tested -- would the earthquake of everything that could be thrown at me cause my temple to God to crumble and fall?
It was a long earthquake/fire year. There were hundreds if not thousands of cracks in my temple to God as a result. But I clung to Him even in my doubt. I searched for him desperately in my fear. I failed in a hundred small ways, but I never gave up on God or on knowing that in whatever way the dominoes fell, that God would give me one step forward at a time.
I emerged from that fire baptism charred in many ways. But I also emerged stronger in my faith in God. Stronger in my marriage. Stronger in how I manage my finances. Stronger in my health. Stronger in my emotional health (maintained now with regular prayer, Bible Study, yoga, more time spent outside in God's creation/nature, and deep breathing exercises).
Fire hardens and strengthens wood. Traditionally, when canoes are fashioned from a tree trunk, they are treated with a "fire bath" to make them stronger and more resistant to failures. So I'm sure that there will be more to the fire baptism as my life continues and as my earthly life ends. I believe that the fire baptisms will take on multiple forms and meanings. But as hard as they are to endure, they are good for our faith.
Verse 12: He is ready to separate the chaff from the wheat with his winnowing fork. Then he will clean up the threshing area, gathering the wheat into his barn but burning the chaff with never-ending fire
The truth of the matter is that not everyone will get to heaven. You can't fake your way into heaven.
Verse 14-15: But John tried to talk him out of it. “I am the one who needs to be baptized by you,” he said, “so why are you coming to me?” 15 But Jesus said, “It should be done, for we must carry out all that God requires.[f]” So John agreed to baptize him.
Verse 5: People from Jerusalem and from all of Judea and all over the Jordan Valley went out to see and hear John.
My initial thought to this verse was "Oh man! The original mega preacher. The original Joel Osteen." Which of course just made me giggle.
Verse 8-9: Prove by the way you live that you have repented of your sins and turned to God. Don’t just say to each other, ‘We’re safe, for we are descendants of Abraham.’ That means nothing, for I tell you, God can create children of Abraham from these very stones.
Here, John the Baptist was speaking to the Pharisees and Sadducees who were watching his sermons and baptisms as if they were a spectacle, a joke, entertainment. They did not treat these baptisms and conversions with the great respect that they deserved. These people who were being baptized were confessing their sins and turning their backs on their old ways, turning back to God and using their baptism as a reflection of being washed clean and starting anew. But the Pharisees and Sadducees mocked these baptisms -- looking down their noses at the "peasants" because they believed themselves better, holier, untouchable because of their ancestry and positions. But John the Baptist retorted to their mockery with this verse. Reminding us that birthright does not guarantee salvation. How we live our lives is a testament to our beliefs, our faith. Their lack of love towards their neighbor, their greed, their meanness -- those are not characteristics of someone living for God.
Verse 10: Even now the ax of God’s judgment is poised, ready to sever the roots of the trees. Yes, every tree that does not produce good fruit will be chopped down and thrown into the fire.
"produce good fruit" has regularly been interpreted as converting people to the Christian faith. That interpretation I think has created this pressure that if we don't convert people, then we're doomed. Too many people take that pressure and it just takes over. They become pushy, unreasonable, "my way or the highway." You can't talk to those people who believe that their only purpose in life is to convert as many people as they can to Jesus' kingdom. They are a brick wall, blind to other peoples opinions, struggles, fears, concerns, points of view. They can't relate to people who struggle -- struggle doesn't compute in their brains because they believe that as long as you are in Gods Will, that everything will be fine. And if everything isn't fine, then that is because you are not in God's Will and are thus in Rebellion against God. It's the most frustrating, closed off version of a Christian that exists. They believe in grace only for those who are good. They are the modern Pharisee and Sadducee.
But I think that "produce good fruit" is not just about winning people to Jesus. I think it's about living honestly, being kind, being patient, being understanding, being generous, being helpful to others, loving others. Good fruit in my opinion is referring to the fruit of the spirit spoken about in Galatians 5:22-23: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
Yes, "winning" converts to Christ is good and wonderful. But that is not the only good fruit! Good fruit is embodying the fruits of the spirit -- living your life according to those fruits of the spirit. And I truly believe that when you live the way that Christ actually wanted you to live (The greatest of these is love), then you "win" converts to Christ by your example. Witnessing and working to convert people should not be what modern Christianity teaches -- hellfire, brimstone, "convert or go too hell." Witnessing is simply leading by example. It's not about being holier than thou. It's not about being better than others. It's not about placing yourself at a higher importance than someone else. It's about being approachable, kind, joyful, patient, gentle. IT'S THE FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT!
Verse 11 (partial verse): He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire
I can honestly say that my baptism was absolutely the most spiritual experience of my life. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. That baptism was so powerful -- it cemented my relationship with God. It was amazing to confess my sins, my history, my past and to turn my back to those ways. To instead be dunked into the river and come up clean. God was there, and he celebrated. I was physically washed by the water, but I was spiritually washed by the Holy Spirit. But John the Baptist also mentions that we will be baptized with fire.
For a long time, I didn't really know what that meant, how it would manifest itself in my life. For a long time, I just kind of overlooked that part. "Oh that part doesn't apply," I would think. How stupid I was.
My fire didn't come for a few years. But it came. My fire baptism was a period in my life that tested my faith and my beliefs. I had a worldly situation arise that shook and tested every single part of my life. My marriage almost failed. My finances were almost ruined. My health deteriorated. I found myself also in the middle of the deepest depression I'd experienced yet. I was in the middle of a career crisis. And all of this happened at the same time. Which of course also tested my faithfulness. I firmly believe that this was my earthly fire baptism. I'd had a few years to plant roots with God, to set up routines, and to learn and read more of the Bible. He gave me a foundation setting period. Then it was all tested -- would the earthquake of everything that could be thrown at me cause my temple to God to crumble and fall?
It was a long earthquake/fire year. There were hundreds if not thousands of cracks in my temple to God as a result. But I clung to Him even in my doubt. I searched for him desperately in my fear. I failed in a hundred small ways, but I never gave up on God or on knowing that in whatever way the dominoes fell, that God would give me one step forward at a time.
I emerged from that fire baptism charred in many ways. But I also emerged stronger in my faith in God. Stronger in my marriage. Stronger in how I manage my finances. Stronger in my health. Stronger in my emotional health (maintained now with regular prayer, Bible Study, yoga, more time spent outside in God's creation/nature, and deep breathing exercises).
Fire hardens and strengthens wood. Traditionally, when canoes are fashioned from a tree trunk, they are treated with a "fire bath" to make them stronger and more resistant to failures. So I'm sure that there will be more to the fire baptism as my life continues and as my earthly life ends. I believe that the fire baptisms will take on multiple forms and meanings. But as hard as they are to endure, they are good for our faith.
Verse 12: He is ready to separate the chaff from the wheat with his winnowing fork. Then he will clean up the threshing area, gathering the wheat into his barn but burning the chaff with never-ending fire
The truth of the matter is that not everyone will get to heaven. You can't fake your way into heaven.
Verse 14-15: But John tried to talk him out of it. “I am the one who needs to be baptized by you,” he said, “so why are you coming to me?” 15 But Jesus said, “It should be done, for we must carry out all that God requires.[f]” So John agreed to baptize him.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
(Bible Study and Reflections) Romans 1
Last week, my pastor preached from Romans 8. His words and commentary really reminded me how important that book is to the Christian life. And it was the first book I actually studied in depth when I came into my Christian faith. So there are some sentimental ties to that book as well. Today I decided I'd pick my Bible up and start reading Romans over again. Today, I read Romans Chapter 1. These are some of the verses and thoughts that came to mind during todays study...
Verse 1: Paul identifies himself as a slave... The word "slave" brings to mind our own American History, where people owned slaves. We know a lot about what slavery entailed... To sum it up -- it's horrible. So it's hard for me to read how Paul called himself a slave of Christ Jesus and identify it as a good thing. The first definition of slave that is listed aligns with our American History version: "historical 1. a person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them." But I feel like the second definition listed is more accurate to what Paul was trying to say: "a person who works very hard without proper remuneration or appreciation." Paul was not appreciated. He was imprisoned, held in a cell by himself, able only to write. He was not paid -- in fact he went greatly without. He lived a very difficult and trying life -- road blocks at every turn. How quickly we get frustrated and doubt with our tiny little difficulties -- if we were in Pauls' shoes, would we be able to display such loyalty and faithfulness to God?
Verse 5: Paul mentions that God has given us the privilege and authority as apostles to tell Gentiles everywhere what God has done for them, so that they will believe and obey him, bringing glory to his name.
- Privilege. I've never thought to use that term in relation to my faith. I've considered it a blessing. A gift. An honor. But privilege is so much better, so much stronger of a word to use! He didn't have to give us what he did. But he did - he gave us the privilege.
- Authority. When I hear that word, I think about "power" and "position." But really, it means here responsibility. Re-read that verse and replace "authority" with "responsibility." ....RIGHT?! We have a responsibility to share our lives and our living testimonies. God has given us the authority to share his good news of grace and salvation. We are allowed and should do so.
Verse 12: When we get together, I want to encourage you in your faith, but I also want to be encouraged by yours.
I love this. Here is the great Paul, one of the most faithful apostles, who has such wisdom... If I were to be in Paul's presence, I would be in awe. I would feel so insignificant. I would admire his knowledge, his faith. I would feel unequal. Yet here is Paul, writing to the Roman Christians, who are like me (relatively new in their faith and small of their knowledge), affirming that he is no better than they -- that he looks forward to being with them so their presence and faith could encourage his! We need to remember that when we are with our groups, that we are to encourage one another in spirit and faith. That not one of us can't gain from these interactions. That when we go see a "big Christian speaker," that we need to minister to their needs just as much as they are ministering to ours. It underscores the importance of an equal relationship between Christians, a relationship of serving each other.
Verse 1: Paul identifies himself as a slave... The word "slave" brings to mind our own American History, where people owned slaves. We know a lot about what slavery entailed... To sum it up -- it's horrible. So it's hard for me to read how Paul called himself a slave of Christ Jesus and identify it as a good thing. The first definition of slave that is listed aligns with our American History version: "historical 1. a person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them." But I feel like the second definition listed is more accurate to what Paul was trying to say: "a person who works very hard without proper remuneration or appreciation." Paul was not appreciated. He was imprisoned, held in a cell by himself, able only to write. He was not paid -- in fact he went greatly without. He lived a very difficult and trying life -- road blocks at every turn. How quickly we get frustrated and doubt with our tiny little difficulties -- if we were in Pauls' shoes, would we be able to display such loyalty and faithfulness to God?
Verse 5: Paul mentions that God has given us the privilege and authority as apostles to tell Gentiles everywhere what God has done for them, so that they will believe and obey him, bringing glory to his name.
- Privilege. I've never thought to use that term in relation to my faith. I've considered it a blessing. A gift. An honor. But privilege is so much better, so much stronger of a word to use! He didn't have to give us what he did. But he did - he gave us the privilege.
- Authority. When I hear that word, I think about "power" and "position." But really, it means here responsibility. Re-read that verse and replace "authority" with "responsibility." ....RIGHT?! We have a responsibility to share our lives and our living testimonies. God has given us the authority to share his good news of grace and salvation. We are allowed and should do so.
Verse 12: When we get together, I want to encourage you in your faith, but I also want to be encouraged by yours.
I love this. Here is the great Paul, one of the most faithful apostles, who has such wisdom... If I were to be in Paul's presence, I would be in awe. I would feel so insignificant. I would admire his knowledge, his faith. I would feel unequal. Yet here is Paul, writing to the Roman Christians, who are like me (relatively new in their faith and small of their knowledge), affirming that he is no better than they -- that he looks forward to being with them so their presence and faith could encourage his! We need to remember that when we are with our groups, that we are to encourage one another in spirit and faith. That not one of us can't gain from these interactions. That when we go see a "big Christian speaker," that we need to minister to their needs just as much as they are ministering to ours. It underscores the importance of an equal relationship between Christians, a relationship of serving each other.
Verse 15: So I am eager to come to you in Rome, too, to preach the Good News
We need to be eager to serve. It should not be a "boring habit." We should be invigorated by the opportunities.
Verse 17: This Good News tells us how God makes us right in his sight. This is accomplished from start to finish by faith. As the Scriptures say, “It is through faith that a righteous person has life.”
From start to finish by faith. Not earned. Not by ceremony. Not by works. BY FAITH.
Verse 25: They traded the truth about God for a lie. So they worshiped and served the things God created instead of the Creator himself, who is worthy of eternal praise!
I highlighted this in my Bible because I've done this. I've traded truth for lies to reinforce my selfish and wrong choices. I highlighted this because none of us are blameless. We all fall short. But we need to be steadfast against doing so.
Verse 26-32 discusses homosexuality and states that it is shameful and sinful.
I really really struggled with this passage. I struggle so much with how at odds are Homosexuality and God. I have so much deep deep love and care for the homosexual community. They are generally wonderful people that I enjoy being with (I say generally because all communities are generally wonderful. There are always exceptions in every community -- including mine!). And I struggle with the concept that being gay is a choice. I find that difficult to believe. I don't think anyone would willingly choose to be a way that is discriminated against, ridiculed, misunderstood, and alienated from God. And if people wouldn't willingly choose those things, then it wasn't a choice--they were born that way. But by the flip side, if a homosexual person was made homosexual (which would mean God made them that way), then why would God make someone who would naturally and organically be an "abomination" to him and would be "doomed" to Hell from birth? That would imply that God is evil. And I don't believe that either! ::Deep, Heavy sigh:: I don't know. I don't know what to think or what to know on this subject. It bothers me to my core. Reading this passage literally made me cry... I don't know what to do about it. I don't have a "side" on this except to love. I have no other choice except to not understand the dichotomy and to instead just love like Christ loved and let God handle it on his side of heaven.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Another Trip Around on the Broken Record
About 7-8 years ago, I went through a really really tough time. I went through an extended, 3 month long break up with my first boyfriend (my fault that we broke up, his fault that it took so long to finally end things). During that time, I experienced my first bout of depression, anxiety, and complete loss of self. Everything in my world was suddenly in question -- and I don't just mean my relationship status. I mean my morals, my faith, my identity as a person, my worth, my value -- all of it.
I remember it being the summer where I didn't eat -- I was so sick to my stomach from anxiety the entire summer that the thought of food made me nauseous. Not to mention nothing tasted good. And I had so much nervous energy from the anxiety that I exercised constantly - it was the only way I could find to distract myself from my life, get lost in music, get lost in the pain of exercise, and just forget about everything that was so horrible. I literally went outside and put it out on the pavement. I lost so much weight that summer...
I went from 210lbs at the beginning of that summer to 160lbs at the end of that summer.
It was horrible.
But I also remember that even though that time period was awful, I remember working so hard to find what made me happy. I was desperate to find comfort and peace and even the littlest bit of happiness in the midst of my world falling apart.
That was also the summer that I discovered what some term the "alternative lifestyle": meditation, hot tea, mantras, indoor water features, candles, yoga, and moody artsy music. I wanted to spend as much time outside, away from buildings and people -- I wanted to be surrounded by trees, by nature, by the ocean.
In the same time that I was being torn apart and ripped to shreds by the break up, I was also discovering a whole different and wonderful world full of peace.
I emerged from that break up so strong in myself. I knew what I liked. I knew what I didn't. I didn't stand for negativity or things that did not contribute to my world.
That strength lasted for a while... But not for long enough...
I found myself back in school then in a job that at first I loved and then I hated and somewhere along the way, I once again lost myself. Because I simply got too busy to pay attention. I was too busy trying to study for tests then national boards then for work. I got sucked into negativity. I found myself completely and totally miserable. It affected my marriage, which went south fast. And all of a sudden, I was in that same boat as I was 7-8 years ago: completely lost.
I did not emerge from this round like I did the first -- I was not strong. I was not confident. I was shook. I had spent all of my time surviving and fertilizing other people so that they would grow and bloom that I didn't spend any time fertilizing my own garden. I didn't expend my energy working out. This round of anxiety made me starving - I ate when I was mad, I ate when I was sad, I ate when I was happy. I emerged weighing 230 lbs.
I can say that I am no longer "in the woods" with the negative life situations. I made the changes that needed to be made to remove the root causes. So that part is good...
But now that I'm no longer in "survival mode," I'm finding myself trying to redefine myself again. I find myself wanting to fill my time with quality, worth-while, positive things. I find myself returning to those "alternative lifestyles" of teas and yoga and candles. I have less and less interest in television shows. I find myself wanting water fountains all over my house -- I need one in the bedroom and the living room. I find myself wanting my home to be different - I don't want it to be stuffy. I want it full of comfortably quirky things. I also find myself desiring a healthier relationship with food (But when you've been eating one way for the last three years -- that's not an easy habit to break...). And best of all, I find myself wanting to run again.
During "Round One" those years ago, it was really running that got me through it all. So to have the desire again to run after three years of being told that running was bad for fat loss (so what if it is? If I enjoy it, then OH WELL) and then three years of having no desire or motivation to go on a run (weight gain, depression, no time, being a big old bitch)... That's such a beautiful thing to me. Full circle.
My husband gets frustrated with me these days because I want to change so much in the house. He's such a basic guy -- he doesn't understand the need to have things a certain way, to create the right energy in our home. And I understand why he doesn't get it. Just like he understands my need to change things even if he doesn't actually GET it. But every time that I make one of the changes, my soul feels a little bit more upright.
Even buying a tea kettle made me feel a little bit more sure of myself. Stupid, but true.
I don't know... I feel like sometimes this blog is like a broken record. I come on here and write about the same sad songs -- my weight, depression, blah blah blah. Each post I try to find something positive about the situation. But I'm being one hundred percent honest and authentic in these posts. I'm showing up and I'm writing about what I have before me. And it's the truth that what's before me hasn't changed in quite some time. Remember -- I've been fighting this most recent round for three years.
I remember it being the summer where I didn't eat -- I was so sick to my stomach from anxiety the entire summer that the thought of food made me nauseous. Not to mention nothing tasted good. And I had so much nervous energy from the anxiety that I exercised constantly - it was the only way I could find to distract myself from my life, get lost in music, get lost in the pain of exercise, and just forget about everything that was so horrible. I literally went outside and put it out on the pavement. I lost so much weight that summer...
I went from 210lbs at the beginning of that summer to 160lbs at the end of that summer.
It was horrible.
But I also remember that even though that time period was awful, I remember working so hard to find what made me happy. I was desperate to find comfort and peace and even the littlest bit of happiness in the midst of my world falling apart.
That was also the summer that I discovered what some term the "alternative lifestyle": meditation, hot tea, mantras, indoor water features, candles, yoga, and moody artsy music. I wanted to spend as much time outside, away from buildings and people -- I wanted to be surrounded by trees, by nature, by the ocean.
In the same time that I was being torn apart and ripped to shreds by the break up, I was also discovering a whole different and wonderful world full of peace.
I emerged from that break up so strong in myself. I knew what I liked. I knew what I didn't. I didn't stand for negativity or things that did not contribute to my world.
That strength lasted for a while... But not for long enough...
I found myself back in school then in a job that at first I loved and then I hated and somewhere along the way, I once again lost myself. Because I simply got too busy to pay attention. I was too busy trying to study for tests then national boards then for work. I got sucked into negativity. I found myself completely and totally miserable. It affected my marriage, which went south fast. And all of a sudden, I was in that same boat as I was 7-8 years ago: completely lost.
I did not emerge from this round like I did the first -- I was not strong. I was not confident. I was shook. I had spent all of my time surviving and fertilizing other people so that they would grow and bloom that I didn't spend any time fertilizing my own garden. I didn't expend my energy working out. This round of anxiety made me starving - I ate when I was mad, I ate when I was sad, I ate when I was happy. I emerged weighing 230 lbs.
I can say that I am no longer "in the woods" with the negative life situations. I made the changes that needed to be made to remove the root causes. So that part is good...
But now that I'm no longer in "survival mode," I'm finding myself trying to redefine myself again. I find myself wanting to fill my time with quality, worth-while, positive things. I find myself returning to those "alternative lifestyles" of teas and yoga and candles. I have less and less interest in television shows. I find myself wanting water fountains all over my house -- I need one in the bedroom and the living room. I find myself wanting my home to be different - I don't want it to be stuffy. I want it full of comfortably quirky things. I also find myself desiring a healthier relationship with food (But when you've been eating one way for the last three years -- that's not an easy habit to break...). And best of all, I find myself wanting to run again.
During "Round One" those years ago, it was really running that got me through it all. So to have the desire again to run after three years of being told that running was bad for fat loss (so what if it is? If I enjoy it, then OH WELL) and then three years of having no desire or motivation to go on a run (weight gain, depression, no time, being a big old bitch)... That's such a beautiful thing to me. Full circle.
My husband gets frustrated with me these days because I want to change so much in the house. He's such a basic guy -- he doesn't understand the need to have things a certain way, to create the right energy in our home. And I understand why he doesn't get it. Just like he understands my need to change things even if he doesn't actually GET it. But every time that I make one of the changes, my soul feels a little bit more upright.
Even buying a tea kettle made me feel a little bit more sure of myself. Stupid, but true.
I don't know... I feel like sometimes this blog is like a broken record. I come on here and write about the same sad songs -- my weight, depression, blah blah blah. Each post I try to find something positive about the situation. But I'm being one hundred percent honest and authentic in these posts. I'm showing up and I'm writing about what I have before me. And it's the truth that what's before me hasn't changed in quite some time. Remember -- I've been fighting this most recent round for three years.
Thursday, July 6, 2017
June 27
Today is my last day of vacation before I return to the working grind. And I'll return big time -- a couple of overtime shifts already scheduled and I'll be hunting for more to pay for an unexpected trip to Texas in August.
I returned home from a magnificent trip to Las Vegas on Saturday evening. I went with three other girlfriends from college, and it was a much needed trip for all of us. Three of us are very similar -- we sense other peoples energies very easily and are very low key. We're also all struggling in various ways in our lives -- we're all broken. We all feel isolated and slightly lost. So to spend time together, to talk, to heal and mend -- it was exactly what we needed.
Sunday after I returned home, it was a mad dash to make it to lunch at Grandmas, then immediately to a baby shower for my soon to arrive niece (yet to be named), then immediately to the grocery store. By that point it was dinner time. And we squeezed in a walk with the pups.
I was anticipating that Daniel and I would have these few days together, and I was greatly looking forward to them, since I'd been gone for a week. But during our walk, I found out that was not going to be the case. Turned out that he had training both Monday AND Tuesday -- my last two days of vacation. Womp womp womp.
At first I was more than annoyed -- I was so mad that my plan and expectation had gone awry. But there was no choice in the matter, so cest la vie. There was nothing to be done about it.
And I didn't realize how much I needed these two days to myself. I have so thoroughly enjoyed myself!!
Bella got to go to the dog park both yesterday AND today (which means she also got a bath upon returning home both days and was so exhausted from the fun that she's slept both days away). I got a little quilting done. I got to sleep in. I chose to do living room Zumba DVD's for my workouts because I frankly didn't even want to leave the house.
So what have I been doing on my last day of vacation?
Today, I took myself out on a date for lunch. Went to my local Mexican restaurant and pulled out my Kindle and just enjoyed the meal, the table to myself, the quiet, and my book. I'm reading such a wonderful little book -- The Storied Life of AJ Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin. So so so good. It's so lyrical, and witty, and relatable, and sad. It's literary but not too difficult to read or understand. It's got simple and complex characters. It's detailed but it skips years in his life. It's everything I want in a book. So it was nice to get lost in AJ's life for too long at the restaurant.
I bought new make up (I always leave Ulta with more than what I went there for! But I found some great products in addition to what I went there for).
I bought new kitchen tongs.
Opened my new Coach purse that was shipped to me from Vegas. Ooo so pretty.
Dog park.
Zumba.
And not once have I watched TV (except for my Zumba DVD of course). And now I'm listening to cool jazz on Pandora and blogging. This has been such a peaceful two days, that I'm not even sad anymore that my husband had to work. I feel so rested. So peaceful. And yet I think I could take a nap right now. Ha. Maybe cool jazz was a bad idea.
I returned home from a magnificent trip to Las Vegas on Saturday evening. I went with three other girlfriends from college, and it was a much needed trip for all of us. Three of us are very similar -- we sense other peoples energies very easily and are very low key. We're also all struggling in various ways in our lives -- we're all broken. We all feel isolated and slightly lost. So to spend time together, to talk, to heal and mend -- it was exactly what we needed.
Sunday after I returned home, it was a mad dash to make it to lunch at Grandmas, then immediately to a baby shower for my soon to arrive niece (yet to be named), then immediately to the grocery store. By that point it was dinner time. And we squeezed in a walk with the pups.
I was anticipating that Daniel and I would have these few days together, and I was greatly looking forward to them, since I'd been gone for a week. But during our walk, I found out that was not going to be the case. Turned out that he had training both Monday AND Tuesday -- my last two days of vacation. Womp womp womp.
At first I was more than annoyed -- I was so mad that my plan and expectation had gone awry. But there was no choice in the matter, so cest la vie. There was nothing to be done about it.
And I didn't realize how much I needed these two days to myself. I have so thoroughly enjoyed myself!!
Bella got to go to the dog park both yesterday AND today (which means she also got a bath upon returning home both days and was so exhausted from the fun that she's slept both days away). I got a little quilting done. I got to sleep in. I chose to do living room Zumba DVD's for my workouts because I frankly didn't even want to leave the house.
So what have I been doing on my last day of vacation?
Today, I took myself out on a date for lunch. Went to my local Mexican restaurant and pulled out my Kindle and just enjoyed the meal, the table to myself, the quiet, and my book. I'm reading such a wonderful little book -- The Storied Life of AJ Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin. So so so good. It's so lyrical, and witty, and relatable, and sad. It's literary but not too difficult to read or understand. It's got simple and complex characters. It's detailed but it skips years in his life. It's everything I want in a book. So it was nice to get lost in AJ's life for too long at the restaurant.
I bought new make up (I always leave Ulta with more than what I went there for! But I found some great products in addition to what I went there for).
I bought new kitchen tongs.
Opened my new Coach purse that was shipped to me from Vegas. Ooo so pretty.
Dog park.
Zumba.
And not once have I watched TV (except for my Zumba DVD of course). And now I'm listening to cool jazz on Pandora and blogging. This has been such a peaceful two days, that I'm not even sad anymore that my husband had to work. I feel so rested. So peaceful. And yet I think I could take a nap right now. Ha. Maybe cool jazz was a bad idea.
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