Thursday, September 24, 2015

Maximize momentum for lasting change

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.

Philippians 1:6 (NLT)


     Today I can't stop thinking about this word and really more than that about the FEELING of momentum. Have you ever experienced it? 
     Maybe in an athletic or competitive event? 
     Or even in a day in which you started with a grateful heart and continued to express gratitude? 
     Or perhaps in a challenge you made for yourself...to pray or go to Bible study or stick to an exercise program? 
     The thing with momentum is that its beginnings have nothing to do with luck or chance, or possibly even desire. They have more to do with discipline. 
     The dictionary defines momentum as the force or speed of movement; impetus, as of a physical object or course of events. 
     But something can't begin moving on its own. 
     Have you ever wanted something really badly but did nothing to make it happen. Except maybe pray. 
     I prayed for a really long time for my body to heal. A lot of tears were shed in desperation. 
     But until I made a decision to ACT, nothing happened. Momentum requires ACTion. Action requires a decision. 
     My decision was that I would finally get "all in" about the clean eating and living I was professing. 
     As I did, I noticed some changes. At first they were small, and then when I reached out to start a nutrition program, the changes got dramatic and very quickly. I required two things for this to be successful: a decision to do it well (discipline) and faith it could help me. 
     With discipline and faith, I took action. With action came momentum. 
     Momentum is exciting, because that change I so desperately wanted was finally unfolding. I could feel it, and I could even see the inner healing on the outside of my body. 
     My faith grew even more. 
     But I never could have gotten there without action. Momentum requires force or speed to be initiated. 
     Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University taught me discipline with money. You may be wondering what this has to do with momentum, but you see, I needed to experience that change is good and that discipline leads to transformation. Once I had discipline with my finances, I decided to read my Bible daily. Once I was reading my Bible daily, I decided to pray daily. My continued commitment to action built my faith as I saw momentum in each area of my life. It played out in my physical life as well. We began meal planning, which requires discipline, and I started running races. In each area, I continued because I saw the positive impacts these actions were having in my life. Those positive impacts were the momentum. Once I got started, nothing could stop me because the reward was tangible at that point. 
     In 2 Timothy 4:7, Paul writes, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." 
     It wasn't easy for Paul, as he was thrown in prison and persecuted for his discipline. But his momentum was salvation, not only for himself but for others. He had GOOD NEWS to share and nothing was going to stand in the way of his calling to spread the gospel. 
     Likewise, our momentum doesn't come without some jarring bumps. We get to decide if the pebble in our path will derail us completely, or if we pick it up, toss it out and continue forward. A little perseverance can help build and grow momentum.  With continued faith and decisions to act daily on what we believe is good for us, we can be sure that the fight we fight for will be "good," the races will be finished even if they aren't won and our faith will be preserved even when shaken. 
     Today, I am determined to capitalize on momentum. To lean into it and to not let life's little bumps along the way stop the good thing that God has started. How about you? 


Wednesday, September 9, 2015

My food addiction revelation

     So I'm standing in the mirror, just after a shower and getting frustrated at yet another hive-pimple breakout on my cheek. 
     And I have this ah-ha moment that's kind of depressing. I realize I have to admit something. Not just to myself, but to this blog and to anyone who will listen. Because God told me to share. (Read yesterday's entry.) 
     (Side note: It's really a big DANG IT moment, because I don't know about you, but I HATE admitting my weaknesses. Some people call that prideful. It's genetic in my neck of the woods.) 
     I am addicted to food. Sugary food. Chocolate food. Unhealthy food. All food. 
     I have a real problem. Really. I have a really real problem with food. 
     There. It's out. It hurts. 
     Right before my shower, I hate a fourth of a half-gallon of Praire Farms ice cream. It sat in my fridge for well over a week, and nobody ate it. So today in a moment of weakness that was just like all the others I had in the week that I was somehow able to overcome, I succumbed to it. I don't know why this time was different. I certainly was able to ignore that mouth-watering picture of a cow (Just kidding, cows don't make my mouth water. Well, maybe a little) a dozen other times I opened the freezer this week. But today, I ate it. I intended to eat just two bites. You know, because the "experts" say you really only need a couple bites to satisfy a craving. (What do they know?) 
     I bargained with myself. 
     I'll eat just a little more than that. 
     In my mind, I visually carved out a section that would be "acceptable" to eat. The smaller portion on the left side of the container, which was really just a few more bites than the two I intended. Then I decided I would eat from that carton until the computer finally opened a program I was waiting to use. 
     But the computer was so slow. Another bite. Then another. I was eating as slow as the computer was working. So, you can see, it wasn't really my fault I ate it all, because it was the darn computer. The longer I waited for the computer to open the program, the more frustrated I became. The more frustrated I became, the more I justified the food in my hand. 
     It wasn't my fault, after all. It was the stupid computer. 
     Then I went to hide the ice cream container in the trash, which was overflowing. So I stuffed it in the bag, put something bigger over it and took the trash out to the garage. 
     I dusted off my hands — mission covert food addiction accomplished — and hopped in the shower. 
     There's NO DOUBT my complexion is related to the sugar or the dairy,  both of which I can hardly tolerate in large amounts. My reflection tells me a truth I don't want to acknowledge, and it doesn't lie. 
     But here's another truth. I'm normally so much better with food choices. I had been freed from the pain and suffering caused by years of abusive eating more than a year ago thanks to my full-body cellular cleansing and fat-burning replenishment system via Isagenix. 
      Well, I thought I was. 
     I used my pregnancy — not as an excuse, because excuses are excusable. Rather I used my pregnancy to justify something I should not be doing. That carried over in breastfeeding. Don't ask how, but in my mind, it all made sense. Extra calories. Pampering my body, which was suffering the ups and downs — mostly downs — of pregnancy and then caring for a newborn. And the struggles of early breastfeeding. 
     You may be wondering why this is any big deal at all. I mean, is ice cream bad? Most people don't think so in the slightest. 
      The truth is, yes and no. This product is made of ingredients that make me sick. They make everyone sick, if we're honest, but they make me sicker than most people. And I KNOW in my heart that I can satisfy that craving with something healthy. I also KNOW I could have stopped at two bites. I also KNOW I could have recognized the signs a few more bites in that I was emotionally eating. I also KNOW that I was playing games to justified my bad choice. 
     I guess I'm making progress, because I'm seeing it more clearly now, even if in retrospective. I understand what I'm doing. I know it's wrong, and I want to make right choices. I want to make right choices because I've cleansed my body, which helped me in all ways with cravings. I know that a clean body wants what it needs, not what's sitting in the freezer. And I know when my body is alkaline and clean, it functions so much better. Gone is the restlessness, the mental fog and the lack of energy throughout the day. My pain was resolved once I made better choices in my diet. My eating habits made my body function better, and I was much happier. That's right, eating good food (which doesn't include Prairie Farms ice cream, believe it or not!) made me happier. Feed the body, fuel the mind!
     Yet here I was stumbling. I had just told my husband two days earlier I had a food addiction. I admitted that I had bought a Reese's PB cup in the store checkout that day. 
     So what, he said. That doesn't mean you're addicted to food.  
     Bless him. He's so nice. He loves me, and he doesn't want me to feel bad about myself. He never has. So in a way, he helps me justify. I don't want him to help me justify. I want to be free again. 
     I hid the wrapper in a zipper pocket of my purse, I said. 
Evidence of my food addiction can be found tucked away in undisclosed locations. 
     It's not like it was the first time, I said, but just in my head this time. 
     I realized that it's a thing I do. It's a thing I've always done. 
     Sure, there are some people who eat giant stacks of Oreos and 65-ounce sodas out in the open. They may know it's bad or that it's unhealthy. Heck, they may even realize they have a food addiction. They may be struggling. I don't know, because they aren't me. I just know my food addiction is a covert one. It's hard for me to admit. I think the ones who do it openly might have more integrity than me. But let's be honest, a food addiction is dangerous and the struggle is real no matter where the battleground is. 
     Even harder than food addiction, at least for me, is admitting that the food controls me. I allow the food to control me. I'm out of control. 
     I said this to my husband, tears streaming down my face. He made some joke about how he was on his second lunch. He was. But both were relatively healthy. I don't see him binging on ice cream. Ever. 
     Besides, I said. I'm not here to condemn or point out anyone else's eating habits. I am here to say, I have a problem, and I need help. 
     The truth is Isagenix was a tool that helped me overcome the food addiction I wasn't even admitting I had a year ago. Now that I KNOW I have a problem, I'm using the fact that I can't cleanse as an excuse to further justify my bad behavior. 
     I still have some tools. The products I can eat have some qualities to assist me with the addiction, plus I can utilize Rod Hairston's wonderful new coaching program for a healthy mind and body. (I'm in heaven about this addition to a company that already stands for integrity and completeness in everything it does!) And I still and always have the power of prayer. Now, I can add to my tools that I have knowledge, which I've been told is power. (Ha! See how I did that there?)
     Much as I hated admitting I'm addicted to food, God — in his infinite wisdom — blessed me with a girl's writing yesterday to confirm that I am SUPPOSED to share this with you. Isabelle Loux has written about her struggles with anxiety and depression, writing I'm blessed that she's allowing to be published in Mighty Strong Girls. But the truth is, her perspective has blessed me as the writing of so many girls in this ministry has! 
     They constantly remind me that we don't get help in the dark. We MUST bring our struggles into the light. There, we find hope, mercy, Jesus, forgiveness and community. We discover we aren't alone, and mostly importantly, we help one another. 
     If this resonates with you, then join me, please. Help me be accountable, and I'll help you. Let's live this struggle out — in the light. Let this post be the start of a conversation, and let's get really real with one another!

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Disobedience: My hidden sin

     Do you ever feel like God is nudging you to do something, yet you are holding back? 
     There are some things in life I'm certain of, and one of those is that all God wants from me is obedience. My obedience, which looks far different than the obedience of His other children, is always a battle. I'm a stubborn control-freak of a child. True story.
     It's also a fact that being obedient to God helps me with so much more than my faith. It keeps my eyes on Him so as to not be bound by jealousy or bitterness. It keeps me squarely in His purpose for me alone. It helps me to see through His eyes, so I'm more apt to love and pray for other people and use my gifts for His glory. 
     Typically, being obedient to Him means I have little time to worry about the sins of others, criticize, judge or condemn. If I'm honest, doing what He tells me usually involves me working on my sins and purpose, so He can give me freedom to soar in my identity in Christ. 
     But there was this one thing He asked me to do four years ago that I stubbornly dig my heels in about every chance I get. 
     God made it clear to me that I am to share stories of myself and to do so authentically, using my voice through writing on this blog and other publications. Part of me loved this calling, because I have always had a deep passion for writing. But there was part of me holding back from the very beginning. 
    The authentically part. Because being authentic means being honest with yourself and exploring areas of the depth of your soul you may not really want to. Subjects that are dark and difficult. Parts of me I'd rather hide.
    I did not want to bring these into the light. So like most defiant children, I didn't. I wrote about what I wanted to write about and ignored the truths He laid out in front of me. 
     I cannot tell you how detrimental this was to my health and particularly how it affected not just my spiritual being but my physical and emotional selves, too. (See above. The parts about jealous, bitterness, love and gifts. Yep, I was regularly a hot mess of ugliness!)
     Not long ago I read an article about the hidden sins of Christians. Two of them stood out at me as if God Himself had gotten out His bright pink highlighter for my sake: hypocrisy and caring more about what other people think than what God thinks. 
     I have a real problem with hypocrisy, as you can tell. 
     You see, I was holding back complete obedience to God in my writing and blogging because I thought to do so would make me seem arrogant. I like to think of one of my spiritual strengths as humility. I like to serve, and I highly value those amazing servants who do so without much fanfare or praise, whose work is so far behind the scenes that maybe, just maybe, God is the only witness. I don't like being in the limelight; I never have. So to say that writing about my struggles — some that I've overcome and some that are sins I still wrestle with — would be outside my comfort zone is the understatement of the decade. My history in writing is to interview other people and write their stories, not to write my own. 
     There were other factors at play, too. 
     Fear of criticism and judgement, fear that others would view me as prideful, an unlikely expert for writing about the topics I'm called to write about. Not surprisingly, fear is the subject of an upcoming Mighty Strong Girls publication, and God was revealing to me through others' writing submissions how I was letting my fear rule me and keep me from obedience. 
     So I balked. Over and over, I let me fear trump my calling. 
     A few weeks ago, my pastor preached about Nehemiah and how God used Him to rebuild the temple as God wants to use us to rebuild our lives, His church and His kingdom. 
     It resonated with me, as God has recently been rebuilding my life, and I realized I was not walking in full with His beautiful purpose for me because of my disobedience. 
     I know my calling. That much is clear. But I'm distracted by other things that seem tempting. I'm distracted by fear and criticisms. 
     That sermon opened my eyes to the fact that I'm getting in my own way with my disobedience. I am blocking God from using me for the very purposes He designed me for!
     God never promised I wouldn't face criticism, so in a way, my fears are founded on fact. 
     But why do we think for one moment that to walk in His will as we walk toward our purpose that He will reward us by lavishing us with constant blessings. Jesus' disciples made sacrifices. They were mocked. They, too, had fears and doubts. 
     Fears have never been powerful enough to stop destiny! Take my fear of childbirth, for instance. I did it — three times, mind you — and lived to tell the tale. It's walking through and facing those fears that builds our faith and our testimony. 
     To bring our stories into the light...it's not about us anyway, especially when He calls us to do it. Even when we don't like the way He wants us to do it. Who am I to think I know better than Him the way in which I'm to do His work. 
     It is encouraging for me to remember that Nehemiah and Daniel and Jesus' disciples and David and even Jesus Himself were not immune to fears, temptations and doubts. However, they did not change the fact that these men had great work at hand for their lives, God's church and His kingdom. 
     So do I. 
     And so do you.