in honor of bronner.

today is the one year anniversary of the tragic drowning death of bronner burgess. i, of course, never met bronner. admittedly, i am also not - and never had been - an avid rick and bubba listener or fan of their radio show. nonetheless, the death of bronner was and is deeply personal for me, having sparked the beginning of what would become a much deeper [although no less rocky] walk with the Lord.

my sweet parker and bronner were just a few months apart in age. at the time, i had been living alone and consequently, suffering from panic attacks for well over a year. i was also having the same horrific, recurring nightmare in which one, or sometimes both, of my children were drowning and i was always completely helpless to save them. i was sitting at the kitchen table that afternoon, perusing the news on al.com when i saw the headline.

the news of bronner’s death shook me to the core and it made me examine my own life and my own faith or rather, lack thereof. i found myself asking all of the questions that, in our humanness, naturally follow tragedy. questions like: why God would allow it; how his parents, especially his mother Sherri, would survive it; how would they go on with their lives, etc. it is the questions we all ask when sharing in the silent grief of an unspeakable loss.

little did I know at the time that all of these questions would be answered through bronner’s very own father at a public memorial service that was broadcast on their show later that week. rick burgess stood, less than three days after his baby boy had tragically drowned, and the words that flowed from his mouth were [and still are] undeniably supernatural. i have been in (and sometimes, out) of church services most of my life. i have attended a plethora of “conferences” and “retreats”, read countless books, participated in various bible studies and nothing, absolutely nothing, even comes close.

i accepted Jesus Christ as my lord and savior as a teenager. i was 15. For the 16 years following that, i had tried and failed more times than i can count to "get it right" or to "get my life right" with God. there was an ambiguous disconnect between knowledge of Christ in my head and love for Christ in my heart. my wake up call came through the tragic death of this precious toddler that I never even knew. the words that God spoke through the faith of William Bronner Burgess’ father, Rick, spoke to my heart like nothing else i have ever heard and in those moments, i could literally feel the gap between my head and my heart being bridged, forever altering my relationship with Christ. the tears were coming so hard and so fast, i was standing in my bathroom, holding my hair back, letting my tears pour out into the sink.

sixteen years of trying [and failing] to change myself... and then, i understood. it was never something i could have done on my own.

i would like to blog on about how perfectly i have walked in my faith since that day and consequently, how perfect my life has been. unfortunately, that is not the case. nor should it have been my expectation. modern day prosperity gospel aside, scripture is clear that, "...in this world you will have trouble..." (both self-inflicted and not) but take heart, for there is One who has overcome the world.

the apostle Paul wrote about the hypocritical Pharisees being “whitewashed tombs” which were beautiful on the outside, but filled decay on the inside. for so long, i had been a whitewashed tomb, clothed in some self-righteous form of religion and an array of materialism; clinging to worldly possessions, worldly behavior and a heart full of judgmental criticism. it was a heart that my own rebellion had left hardened. and it was a heart that the death of this child would leave broken, allowing God to move in.

if you have never heard the message from bronner's memorial, you can find it here: Bronner Burgess Memorial

regardless of where you stand in your own personal beliefs, this message of hope is for everyone and if nothing else, answers the curiosity that lies in all of our human hearts about life, death and unspeakable loss... and One Great Love.

trashing the scales - redefining success.

i'm about to do the unthinkable. i'm trashing the scales. i've actually already discarded my personal scales at home because they really were broken, to which my friend stacy can testify as i raced over to weigh myself in a panic after mine erroneously reflected a fifteen pound gain over a week's time. prior to that incident, they had always been dead on with the weight watcher scales. in my last days of weight watchers, i was weighing in monthly, just for the accountability. i wanted to get to the "goal" i'd set with them so that i could one day become 'lifetime' and go for free and all that, but at that point, i was really just trying to maintain.

the proverbial scales have shifted from weight loss to fitness and at times, its difficult not to confuse the two. for so long i have defined success by the number on the scale. when i had 60+ pounds to lose, that was a practical method, but as i approach the last ten pounds or so, i no longer desire some number on the scale or ambiguous level of thinness. the more i have gotten into strength training and cardio endurance training, the more i realize that my goal has shifted from thinness to fitness. and the difference is evidenced in the photo above.

case in point: i had my body fat percentage retested today. it's been a year since my last assessment. over the last year, i have worked out somewhat regularly, eaten somewhat normally (by portion control standards) and of course, had my little year-end-detour into holiday slacking and emotional eating. i've been hardcore serious about losing weight, but i haven't really ever been hardcore serious about proper nutrition or fitness. eat less and move more is a common mantra. and although it will help you lose weight, it won't help you lose fat. [isn't it odd how we are programmed to care about weight more than actual fat?]

so this afternoon, i weighed exactly 4 pounds more than i did 13 months ago. that doesn't sound so bad; however, my body looks (and feels) like i've gained more. and here's why: my body fat percentage had increased 4.3%. this means that while the scale showed a four pound difference in actual weight, my sedentary, food-laden detour caused me to LOSE five pounds of lean muscle.... and pack on almost NINE POUNDS OF FAT!

so this is why i'm trashing the scales. becuase i already know, the scale works the same trickery when the fat is coming off, too. when you regain muscle and lose body fat, the scale is no friend. the hardest part of my entire weight loss odyssey was back when i was 200+ pounds and 41% fat - i had to go three excruciating months without weighing myself because NOTHING was happening scale-wise. i had my body fat tested before and at the end of that three month period and though the scale only showed a six pound loss at the end, the reality was that i had gained 14 pounds of muscle and lost 20 pounds of fat. naturally, at 200+ pounds, i didn't think i needed to gain anything, even if it was muscle. but after that initial increase in lean mass, the poundage (of fat) really started coming off.

so i've just committed myself to three months without the scale. which is a scary thing for a 'weight watcher'. but, i know how many pounds of fat are on my body and consequently, how many i want off (at least 15)- and i also know how many pounds of muscle i want to regain (about 5). i've also redefined my eating habits and am - probably for the first time ever - really following some solid nutrition principles: which means i am paying equal attention to what i eat and when i eat just as much as how much i eat.

so
i'm trashing the scales and moving on... beyond just watching my weight. i'm redefining success at the whole health/fitness thing and will measure success the way it should be measured: with measuring tape instead of scales... and in three months, another trip to the bod pod. stay tuned...

life without television.

when i was in high school, one of my best friends didn't have a television in her home. it was the early-1990's. this was unheard of. even in the boon docks. i felt jilted because we didn't have access to cable or satellite in the cabin in the woods [i felt jilted because i was subjected to live in the cabin in the woods, but we've already established that]. but here was this poor girl [or so i'd thought] without any tv at all. she must be bored out of her mind. her father was a pastor of a non-denominational church and although i never inquired about which specific scripture led to their decision about not allowing television in their home, i realize now - in adulthood and parenthood - and also having lived the last six months without [cable] television - that you don't really even need a scriptural reference to back it up. although plenty come to mind. the one that stays at the forefront of my mind and my heart is phillipians 4:8. if this is meant to set the standard for what we dwell on, grey's anatomy doesn't exactly coincide with whatever is true, or noble, or pure, or lovely...

but i digress. this isn't some 'radically religious' rant on the evil of television in our culture. i promise it's not. i didn't one day declare (like helen 'mama' boucher) that it was the "devil" and that i would give it up and cast it out of my life forever. even though i was - at times - deeply convicted about what a time-waster it was in my life. as if the content of my prime time favorites didn't generate enough conviction on its own. but i could easily justify it as entertainment and diversion. it wasn't an intentional decision on my part. no, television weaned itself out of my life. i can remember scrambling as fast i could to fast forward, mute or clasp my hands over my kids' eyes and ears during a regular commercial break or movie preview. i definitely couldn't watch any of my former prime-time favorites, like grey's or [embarrassed to admit] desperate housewives in their presence. once i started working part time, i kept saving my shows on the dvr but never had time to watch them. and after a while, as with any other addiction, after the withdrawal period passed, i didn't even have the desire to watch them anymore.

oh, i still have a television. a shiny new 42" flat screen compliments of my dad for Christmas, at that - which was initially both incentive and temptation to call the cable company... i just haven't found the time. and i don't think i'm going to. i do have a dvd player and the kids seem content watching their dvds during their tv time, which removes the elements of both labor and fear on my part of having to monitor what their little eyes might see or their little ears might hear.

growing up, the tv was always on at our house. like clockwork, my stepdad turned it on first thing in the morning and promptly turned it off at 10 p.m. every night - which was when my parents went to bed. every night. for as long as i can remember, i woke up to the morning news and fell asleep to the 10 o'clock news intro music... which leads me back to my friend from high school... her house was - by far - my favorite home to visit. it was filled with a quiet, peaceful stillness. i'd imagined life without tv to be very boring. it was anything but. everyone was always in the kitchen crafting or cooking or listening to music.... or my favorite, conversating [which i'm happy to report is now a word according to the urban dictionary which defines it as an "urban hybrid of the two words “converse” and “conversation”]. yea. i'm so urban.

so with january came the kick-off of all sorts of various new seasons that everyone is talking about: the biggest loser, grey's, the bachelor... and with this kick-off came the awareness that life without television has created a lack of common ground. although, i stay pretty up-to-date on the current news and events and the occasional celebrity gossip online, when any of my friends starts raving about what happened on the latest episode of [insert any show here]; or my sister is asking me if i've seen the preview for [insert movie title here]; or there is some fantastic new 'as seen on tv' product... i just stare blankly in response.... "no tv..", i shrug.

chloe occasionally asks me why i don't have "channels" on my tv like daddy or nanna or everyone else we know. "we don't need them", i say. and hearing myself say that i realize, this isn't some principle i am trying to forcibly instill in her... or myself... or anyone else for that matter. television has simply become increasingly unnecessary in my life. blogging, on the other hand, absolutely necessary. of course, i'm still waiting for that 'peaceful stillness' to envelop my home, but with a three and five year old, i don't really see the lack of television as a means to that just yet. and i'm definitely going to have to work on the crafting and cooking...

reminded.

my friend stacy invited me to a scrap booking retreat. "whats a scrapbook?." i replied. it sounded so vaguely familiar. oh, right. those things i have stacked on the shelves in my laundry room/office... those things that i used to be absolutely obsessed with. i have, like, seventeen of them... all seemingly from chloe's first year and a half of life. and then there's parker's single baby scrapbook. unfinished. and hundreds and hundreds of dollars of creative memories supplies. but that's another blog in and of itself.

photographs are precious to me. i've taken thousands and i backed them all up - religiously - on my massive gigabyte external drive that i could literally spend the whole scrap booking retreat weekend organizing on my laptop. it's a start. and as i began organizing the file folders, i stumbled upon a little photographic jewel. my before photo. before what? exactly? oh, if it weren't so late, i could branch off into a plethora of facets, but in keeping with a similar vein of the last post, i'll just stick with the weight loss. i had forgotten all about this particular picture.

everyone says you should take and keep a 'before' photo before you begin a weight loss odyssey. lots of people advise putting it on the fridge is a deterrent from overeating. not a bad concept... unless you are an emotional eater. coming face to face with fifty extra pounds at the refrigerator door was never a motivational tool for me. it's why i was overweight in the first place. food was my drug of choice; my diversion that allowed me to avoid any negative emotions or realities. but i did take the dreaded before photo (obviously) which was eventually a useful tool along the way as a visual reminder of my progress and a reminder of a place that i never wanted to go again.

at one time, i would've simply said, "this is me before i began losing weight and this is me now...", but some sort of strange detachment occurs over time and looking at the before picture now, three years later, all i can think is, "who the heck is THAT?!".

sometimes, when i'm really struggling, i'll take down the one pair of size 18s that i keep hanging on the wall in my closet and step into them and i try, i really try to remind myself what it felt like when those pants were tight. i know that i was miserable. i remember that i would stand in my closet and cry, but stepping into those pants and looking at those photos no longer evoke the emotion of misery. relief, certainly, but i've long since lost touch with who i was then, what i felt then ... and i'm reminded... that maybe that's not such a bad thing.

a word on weight watching... and more.

today's lunch*

i have a confession to make. i bought the newest O magazine. i couldn't help it. the formerly skinny oprah is on the cover standing next to the once again [feigning gasps] fat oprah with the caption that says [and i'm paraphrasing] "how did i let this happen?". i was instantly reminded of that biblical proverb. you know, the one about pride coming before destruction; a haughty spirit before a fall. that one.

in the article oprah talks admittedly and openly about how cocky she had become regarding her fitness routine and successful maintenance of weight loss. she says that she believed, really believed, that she had once-and-for-all conquered her own personal battle of the bulge.

oprah - at fifty years old and as one of the richest women on the face of the planet - with access to all of the personal chefs and trainers and cosmetic enhancements one could ever desire - still hadn't learned the most important lesson of them all: the battle with weight is never won. for those of us who have experienced a struggle with food, and consequently, our weight, there is no proverbial finish line. it is a battle that must be fought, moment by moment, day by day. some days its a small clash. other days it's an all-out war.

there are so many parellels between my Christian walk and my walk as a weight watcher. to walk victoriously in either path requires such a supernatural dosage of fruit. not the grapes are strawberries on my plate. specifically, the 9th fruit of the Spirit: self-control.

along both paths there are inevitable obstacles and temptations; self-inflicted detours. one step off the path and before you know it, you're completely enveloped in darkness.

we all have different learning curves along the way; learning the most important lessons at different times and different places. and not that i'm any expert at either walk, but the most important lessons i've learned - and am still learning - is that falling down is inevitable. we're human. it's what we do. and i am an expert at it. i've finally learned that perfection is not an option - not in the Christian walk and not in the weight watching walk. but what we fail to see so often is that perseverence is.

the Apostle Paul wrote, "one thing i do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, i press on toward the goal ..." (and he knew, as we know, the goal will not be achieved in this life on this side of eternity).

*lunch: on a sidenote: these southbeach wraps are delicious for lunch! they have balanced protein/carb ratio, are high in fiber and have less than 1g of sugar. DELICIOUS! 5 pts.

beginning again.

today, being the first monday of the new year, truly marks a new beginning for so many. two streams of evidence support this theory: the repeated status updates of my facebook friends lamenting today and the return to work; and the conspicuously crowded parking lot at the gym in the pre-dawn hours of this morning. and so we begin. again.

the fun and frivolity of the holidays as faded as the view on this unusually foggy monday morning. beginning again. its so much more than some generic phrase ushering in a new year for me. this is a new life for me. this is my first new year in, adulthood, that i am beginning alone. unmarried. all of the turmoil of the past couple ,of years leading up to this unmarriedness is now in the past, figuratively. literally. legally. i no longer find myself pondering over what i want to do in this new year, but rather finding out who i am. and where to begin. again.

i set out on the path to adulthood so utterly naive. a heart full of hope and a mind full of totally unrealistic expectations. the proverbial female version of clark griswold, building up people, places, things, events, life itself so much in my mind that nothing and no one could ever have lived up to it.

this is what Solomon referred to as "chasing wind" in Ecclesiastes. he had all that he desired and yet said - nine times - that it was all meaningless. the chasing of wind. this is what we do when we become entangled and in pursuit of anything and everything in life other than Christ and His plan and purpose for our lives. and i am the poster child for chasing wind.

at thirty-two, setting any sort of new years resolution or intent to find out who i really am or seek out some sort of purpose for my life seems a rather daunting task. nearing the reality that today brings for so many of us, going back into real life and reality and to work - the overwhelming awareness of dispassion about my life - looking forward - took me by surprise. as thankful as i am for the job that i have and all that it provides for me in terms of compensation and time with my children, let's face it: i am not very passionate about insurance, investments and financial planning. (although - admittedly - my bank accounts could use a good dose of passion in me regarding the latter).

i felt my way into adulthood with blinders on. blinders on the sides of my rose colored glasses. now that all is said and done, i'm back. square one. not too much unlike an eighteen year old undeclared college freshman. slightly more wise. but only slightly. just enough wisdom to begin again, not constructing my own plan, not chasing the winds of others approval, or of unattainable perfection, but seeking the one who's plans my heart now desires to follow.

i am no longer so naive as to question whether or not God has a plan and purpose for my life. aside from the fact that it is a biblical truth for all of us that know Him - as written in Jeremiah 29:11 - He has proven this to me time and time again in His unrelentless pursuit of my heart. in other words, - plainly speaking - if He didn't have something in mind specifically for me, i feel absolutely certain he would've bestowed this ambiguous calling He has placed upon my heart onto someone else. someone much less... complicated. someone much more... willing. yet the knowing He desires to use me in light of (and not in spite of) all of this, makes it all that much more amazing.

'Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.' Jeremiah 33:3

new years lists... gratitudes and good intention.

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."
— C.S. Lewis

my friend katy has the above listed as one of her favorite quotes. it is also one of mine and so befitting of a new year. of new beginnings. and of His mercies that are new each and every morning.

new years lists. my list is twofold: one part gratitude; one part good intentions. maybe a dash of resolve. but not too much. i may be partaking in new years the old fashioned way, but i'm not going to waste my time compiling a list of specific, totally unrealistic resolutions like keeping my home organized or remembering to take my multivitamin every day.

my mother always said that whatever you do on new year's day sets the proverbial stage for the rest of the year. i've spent the first half of the morning desperately trying to clean and organize the kitchen while chloe and parker tear apart the living room. and i have already accepted the fact that the daily vacuuming up of pixos will be a part of my inestimable future.

i figured i needed to take a break from and make sure i got in the 'new year's day blog'... you know, to ensure that i will continue it the rest of the year. my morning started with my two "snuggaly-buggalies" in my bed. chloe slept in my bed as we both fell asleep in our failed attempt at staying up to watch the ball drop. i realized last night - and with even greater clarity this morning - how very few new years eves and new years day mornings i will have like these... and how very, very precious they are. party hats and noise makers ... a new years toast with bubbly... all fade into transparency in comparison to this.

there is no better way to begin a new year that to fill your mind with gratitude over all the things you are thankful for and in doing so, that gratitude inevitably flows within, filling up your heart. it goes without saying that these two precious children are on the top of my list of the what i am so very grateful and thankful for. not just their existence, but their health, their happiness, their giggliness and silliness and especially their "snuggaly buggalyness". i am thankful for all of the things that we consider the barest of necessities and the things that we take for granted so often: health. a home to live in. food to eat. clothes to keep us warm. i am so thankful that i have a great part time job that allows me to spend so much time with my children. i am so very thankful for a God who is faithful, who calls us unto Himself, who remains true to His promise that He will "never leave us or forsake us".

to imagine, as c.s. lewis describes, myself as a living house, i am more than a work in progress. i'd like to trade in my scarlet "D" for a sign that says, "construction zone". and at the top of my list of good intentions is my intent to move out of His way, to stop running away, and to simply allow Him to reconstruct this dilapidated structure. i intend to abide. i intend to love Him - not as he has asked us to, but as He has commanded us to....

oh, like scores of others - i believe in God, i believe the bible, i attend church, i pray... all of these things so often in vain, for they are all lip service and ritual without a relationship with Christ... and without following the greatest of all the commandments.

"One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?" "The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' (NIV, Mark 12:28-30)

heart. soul. mind. strength. all so easily distractable. so easily compartmentalized. and so easily deceived. pressed for time, we stretch them all too thin. it becomes difficult to imagine pouring them all into One Great Love. it isn't through our effort. but through our surrender. and intent.