Conquering Fear

I've been thinking a LOT about fear; what kind of role has it played in my life, about how long it's been one of my constant companions, etc.

And while thinking through that and tracing it back over a lifetime, I've also come across some rather interesting times when fear has been CONQUERED!  

Like the time I had such a strong desire to learn to play tennis, and I meekly put the word out, and my friend Dawn was so excited to give me a lesson:

Or how much I have secretly wanted to be a runner, but thought that I was too fat to do that.  But my friend Elizabeth believed in me and encouraged me to participate in the Couch-to-5K program and then to actually run a 5K race with some other homeschool moms from our community group:

And then there's the time that I attempted to conquer my fear of heights, and I actually rapelled from the side of a mountain at a women's retreat, while all my friends were cheering me on from down below:

I live very close to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and yet I had never been hiking because I'm afraid of bears!  But my friend Sharon encouraged me and my son to come along with her, and I did.  And I didn't die:

And most recently, the fear that I've had of going out into the ocean...I'd never been on a beach trip, never gotten in the ocean past my ankles.  And I really, really LONGED to experience that feeling.  Enter my adventurous friend Kathy, who dragged me out there and showed me how to jump waves and let go and have fun:

Are you picking up on the common theme here?  Have you seen the ONE thing that each of these experiences have in common?

FRIEND.  

That's the word.  

I'm learning, albeit slowly, that I need people.

I cannot conquer this battle alone.  

I do not flourish in isolation.

Today, this "Thanksgiving Eve," I'm giving thanks to God for the blessing I have of friends.

Friends that do not let me "be."  Women (and men) that are not willing to see me wallow, to drop off the edge.

People that constantly call me to something deeper, higher, more noble.

They see value in me when I can't see it in myself.

They know that God has more for me than what I've been willing to settle for.

Do I still have fears?  Um, am I still breathing?  Of course I still have fears!  

But I am seeking to break free of those chains that fear has on me, to knock down the door to this prison cell of "safety" and find out what's outside.

Thank you, my faithful friends that do life with me!

"I thank my God every time I remember you."

Phillipians 1:3 (NIV)

Coming Out of the Darkness

It's been 7 months since my Dad passed.

And I'm not the same.  I'm not even sure that I ever will be.

There have been so many challenges, so much "stuff" to go through, both physically and emotionally.

I've gained weight.  A LOT of weight.  Like 18 pounds in 7 months.

I have eaten to numb pain, to mask anger, to find peace.

I've been to the doctor and been prescribed anti-depressants.  I took them, and then quit.

The diagnosis of "Binge Eating Disorder" (or B.E.D. as it's called in the medical world) has been given.  Along with medication to start helping, and an appointment made with a psychiatrist to come on November 30th. (More about the disorder/meds/doctor later)

So, lots has gone on.

But through all these things, I've had ONE constant desire: I want to be whole!  I want to feel like "me" again!

And so I sit here and start to put it all down on the screen for the world to see as a first step in that process of beginning again.

And that's what I'm doing; beginning.  Again.  Today.

Summer Travel Challenges

We are planning a trip to Indiana later this week, and while I'm excited to see some family and friends that I haven't seen in about 3 years, I'm also a little nervous about the eating part of the whole thing.

I know that I can make "decent" choices while we travel up and back...it's just a matter of finding the right symbols on the exit signs. :)

The problem comes when we arrive at our destination.  We're going to a church camp, which means eating in a cafeteria, which boils down to CARB CITY! :)  You know, mashed potatoes, noodles, dumplings, biscuits & gravy, fried this and fried that!  Not to mention the snack shop that is filled with ice cream bars, candy, nachos, and the like!

I will not have access to a refrigerator, but we will have a small cooler with us.  I need your suggestions on how to stay on track while I'm there.  Remember that I'm needing to keep my carb intake to a minimum (60 grams or less), and I won't be able to take things that need to be frozen or kept really cold.

I can't wait to hear your suggestions!

5 Days, 5 Pounds

Nothing major to blog about today, just trying to get back into the habit of posting.

I began "again" on Monday, failed miserably, and began "again" on Tuesday.

And here it is, Friday afternoon, and it's been a fairly good week.

When you have been eating a lot of sugar, drinking lots of carbonated sugary drinks, taking in massive amounts of carbs, the first bit of weight comes off pretty easily.

So when I say that I'm down 5 pounds, I understand that isn't going to be the "norm."  Trust me; I've been on enough diets to know that losing 4,5,10 pounds a week is NOT sustainable!

But it's 5 pounds; that's HALF of the 10 that I've put on since my Dad passed away in April.

Has it been easy to get back into the groove?  No.

But here are a few things that have helped:

1.  Getting rid of the Cokes from in the house.  I can't even have diet drinks around here.  I'm just too crazy.

2.  Staying home more.  I find if I run into town too often (I live in a rural community; some would say "the boonies!), I get into trouble because that's where ALL the major fast food restaurants are!

3.  Getting back to planning and pre-packaging my food.

4.  Exercising; I reactivated my gym membership this week.

5.  Drinking more water.  I cannot stress how important this is to my body, personally.

So, that's my top 5 changes that have been made around here this week.  And the results show up on the scale.

However, I'm not ruled by that scale.  Even if I never step foot on it another day, I can still know that I'm having results just by the way I feel, by my overall attitude, and by my increase in energy levels. My sleep is better at night, I'm not fighting the urge to nap in the afternoon, and my depression is WAY down to what it had been!

So, here's to healthy changes!  And now I'm off to swim with my friends! :)

Happy Weekend!

Fighting Against Freedom

Today's sermon was so poignant for me..."Without the Shedding of Blood" was the title, based on the verses from Hebrews 9:15-22.

The final worship song was this one.  As we were standing there singing, I was given a vision of what's been going on in my life.

Every sin, EVERY SINGLE sin, was nailed to the cross of Christ.  Even my sin of overeating.  Christ's death on the cross secured the victory for me over this sin.  I have been given freedom, been set FREE from every piece of bondage that this sin would have over me. 

But I don't live like it.

I had the vision of being at the cross, climbing up a ladder with a pry bar, determined to remove my sin from the cross.  I'm covered in the blood of Christ that is flowing down from His body hanging on the Cross, which ironically gives me life, but I'm only bent on taking that sin down and continuing to carry it with me.

I have written about being scared of freedom before, in November.

And so I continue to live in fear; to have the audacity to say that the cross was not enough.  Christ's death and resurrection gave me everything, EVERTHING I need to live and walk in victory.  Yet I continue to refuse to believe it.

Why do we do this?  Why do I do this?  I haven't fully figured it out, but I do know that this is the "soft underbelly" of my life.  And the enemy knows this, and uses it to sidetrack me, to distract me, to trip me up, and keep me feeling down and discouraged and reverting back to old habits.

I don't want to live like this anymore. 

It isn't living. 

It's death; slow, painful, and unnecessary for a child of God.

Tears flowed. 

I repented.

Again.

And I am determined to seek the help of the Holy Spirit to make this change in my life.  To live like I have been set free! 


Life is offered.  Freedom has been granted.  Sin has been conquered.  And my victory is just waiting for me to step out and receive it.

Clawing my way out....

It's been 2.5 months since my last post, and even as I sit on the couch typing this, my heart is racing and I have anxious feelings inside.

I love the "Anne of Green Gables" movies, and the best way to describe how I feel is a quote from Anne Shirley...I've fallen into "the depths of despair."

Really; I haven't known as much darkness as I've faced over the last 2 months.  Sometimes you think that when you bury someone, all the "stuff" that went along with relationship to the person is buried as well.  But it's not.

I feel like so many, many things just surfaced after my Dad's death.  Things I either didn't want to deal with or had no idea were there.

My sleep is attacked with horrible nightmares and disturbing dreams.  Many nights I'm awakened by my own sobs as I struggle out of the scary places in those dreams.

My precious husband is beside himself to know what else to do for me, as he prays over me, checks on me to the point of driving me crazy.

And so today, on the first day of a new month, I'm climbing, clawing my way out of this dark tunnel.  I climbed onto the scales this morning and find that awful number of 249...that's 10 pounds that have found their way back onto my body.

I have found myself sabotaging like NEVER before.  Thoughts of being undeserving to live, not being worth taking care of, what's the point to try to be healthy?, all these things have taken over my brain and my body.

And honestly, I don't even feel strong enough to jump back into the "health game" today, but I know I have to start somewhere.

So, I post today, and ask, unashamedly, for your prayers, for your support, for your encouragement.  I MUST do this to save my own life.  Christ calls me to.

Dear Dad...

Yesterday I got the call that you missed your dialysis appointment, and you're NEVER late for that.  Somehow in my heart, I knew it wasn't going to be good.

I left work and on the way to your house I told the Lord, "I don't know what I'm about to face, but I WILL TRUST YOU."

 I have to.  There's no other way to get through this hurt without believing that God is sovereign.

The police officers met me in the driveway.  They were kind.  And gentle.  And they held me up as I cried. 

Your friends came and said they were so shocked.  They had just seen you at church.  They had just brought food to your house.

The ambulance came to take you away and I asked if I could please see you before they moved your body.  I had to know.

And there you were, lying back on the bed like I'd seen you do so many times before, the fingertips of your right hand on the button snaps of your western shirt; your left elbow resting on the bed, making your left hand up in the air, index finger almost pointing.  Your glasses on and cell phone in your pocket, fully dressed and ready to go somewhere...but I don't think you knew you were dressing for a trip to Heaven.

It gives me peace in my heart to know you went to sleep, took a little nap, and woke up to see sights that I only dream about. 

I'm so curious, and a little bit jealous, to know what you're seeing, who you're talking to. 

While you were in the hospital last month, I found myself praying that the Lord would just take you home.  You were SO very sick, and it was scaring me how depressed you were getting.  I knew you were tired and that you were really just longing for peace and health.

But I didn't expect it to be like this.

I didn't know it would hurt so much.

I thought I was ready to let you go and be happy for you.

But I'm crying. 

I'm trying to remember that you are with the One that you lived for and loved, the One you wrote about and taught us about.  And that comforts me.

But it's still painful.

However, I don't want you back.  No, you are the blessed one. 

In the secret place of my childhood memories, you are always 30 years old, tall and handsome, with a strong body, firm hands, and thick black hair.

Is that what you look like now?  I think so.  Grandma Lance will be able to recognize you looking like that!

I'm thankful for the 46 years I had with you.  They were stormy and rocky, joyful and blessed, stressful and hard, filled with learning and growing for both of us.  Our relationship wasn't "text-book" by any means.  We were far too much alike to have anything "normal!" 

But you loved me.

And I loved you.

What else could we have asked for?

I am trusting in the God of all grace to one day redeem every broken place in our hearts and our relationship.  And I believe His word that says there will come a day when there will be no more weeping, "He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces," Isaiah 25:8.

And so today, as I reflect in the midst of chaos and phone calls, questions and paperwork, I asked the Lord for a verse to hang onto, and this is the one that gives me hope; a vision of you, my handsome Daddy, rejoicing in Zion today with Jesus and your loved ones:
Isaiah 35:10 says, "And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."

Good-bye for now, Dad.

I love you.