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? 

Overcoming my late-in-life pregnancy fears

     So, I'm probably about to have blog-rrhea. There was so much I wanted to write while pregnant, and the truth is...I was terrified to put my thoughts into writing during those months. 
     It was one of the most fearful seasons of my life.
     Fear...
     ...I would lose the baby. 
     ...something serious was wrong with the baby. 
     ...of our home sale falling apart. 
     ...that putting my kids back in public school was the wrong decision. 
     ...we wouldn't be able to afford another child. 
     ...of every single symptomatic issue I had in pregnancy. (Yes, I spent a lot of time on Google. Then I admitted I had a problem, promised to stay off the Internet and relapsed after about 24 hours. I realize I have issues!)
     ...that if I talked about any of this, something dreadful would happen. 
     ...I would gain too much weight, not be able to lose the weight after the pregnancy.
     ...I would succumb to food addictions.  
     ...of giving birth naturally, which I was trying to commit myself to doing but even my efforts left me doubting I could. 
     ...God would hate me or punish me for so many fears and doubts. 
      ...of my fears. (My anxiety disorder seemed so under control until this....all of this. It was overwhelming!)
     So I didn't write them. Or speak them. 
     But they haunted me. 
     ...at every doctor's appointment. 
     ...with every snide comment about my age in pregnancy. 
     ...in every headline about a stillbirth or studies about the dangers of pregnancy "late in life." 
     ...during the day and into the night. 
     ...as I listened to a horrendous podcast about depression in pregnancy (1 in 3 women suffer, almost always in silence) and wondered if it was me the author was describing. 
     ...with all the insomnia bouts that returned with a vengeance in my third trimester. 
     I was so glad God was speaking to me during this time and reassuring me. But me, in Amy-the-persistent-worrier fashion, continued to doubt and question. For every worry or fear, I grasped onto the one person who could bring me peace and reassurance. I had to keep going back to Him time and time again because I had such a restless spirit. I think He probably had me right where He wanted me. But I couldn't help shake my feelings of inadequate faith. It was touch and go. 
     I wish I could say that I had a great support network. I definitely had friends who were checking in on me and a husband who was there to listen to all my insecurities. 
     But for every friend who was supportive, there were three people who were negative. Some were silently protesting. Others whispered behind my back. I felt every sting. We received comments like, "How could you be so stupid (to get pregnant at your age)?" "Do you know how this happens?" and my all-time favorite said right to my face, "You're f----ed." 
     Many of these comments came from so-called friends. 
     It was so hard to share our news, not knowing what the reaction would be from a world where the attitudes about a fetus fall more along the lines of a "clump of cells," rather than my precious daughter, a life, a creation of God's. 
     An older woman having a baby seemed foolish. Heck, even I was skeptical in the beginning. It certainly wasn't our plan. 
     But it was our prayer. It was just a prayer from seven years prior...long forgotten. 
     At least we'd forgotten. 
     But someone hadn't. That one person — all holy and almighty — didn't forget the cries of my heart. And deep down, I trusted His timing. He said no to my prayer then. But He said yes to my prayer in this chapter. 
     So I trusted in Him, while so many others disappointed. 
     Faith. But a shaky, insecure, immature faith, to be sure. 
     Still, a glorious story unfolded in spite of my fears when my beautiful baby entered the world. 

Our sweet daughter, born in God's timing as His plan unfolds for our lives.

     She came naturally. But not without trouble. Her positioning was wrong. Labor, which I thought would be fast and not nearly as painful for all my preparation, didn't deliver on those promises. 
     But I was reminded that God doesn't promise life will be easy. He simply promises He will walk through it with us. 
     The birthing plan I had, the techniques I had practiced and prayed upon did not work out like I had hoped. But the scriptures I had written out on notecards gave me the hope and reassurance I need. Just as His word and my relationship with Him carried me through each day of the pregnancy. 
     Indeed, I was never alone. And I knew, no matter what happened to me or the baby, He would help me through it. After all, this was His plan, unfolding in His timing in answer to a deep prayer of my heart. 

The long awaited sonogram didn't provide the answers we were hoping for!

      I wasn't prepared for this. 
     Well, maybe a little. 
     A week before I stood staring with my jaw drooping to the floor, positive pregnancy test in hand, we finally made a decision to move forward with adoption. In an all-new way. All four of us decided we were equipped to handle a baby. We could logistically do it. We were mentally and emotionally prepared. We would go through classes and become a foster family to a newborn. It was settled. 
     And then the unthinkable happened. Six weeks shy of my 41st birthday I discovered that the two missed periods weren't symptomatic of pre-menapause. Or some fluke.
     Immediately, my doctor sprung into action. Blood test in the next three hours. Immediate appointment. She even came in at 8 a.m. on the first morning of her week off to see me. 
     Because. Because of my age, I am HIGH RISK. 
     Frankly, it seemed like more hype than necessary. I just ran a 10-mile race — seven more miles than I'd ever ran consecutively before 2014. I was down 22 pounds and feeling better than I did when I was in my 20s! I felt WAY more healthy than I did in my early pregnancies with the other two. 
     Didn't matter. Statistically speaking, I have a higher rate of complications. So does the baby. 
     Speaking of the baby's risks, I had taken prednisone in early December for a freaky outbreak of poison oak or ivy that was all over my arm and face. It was not a super high dose, but it wasn't a low dose either. 
     My doctor looked at the dates and decided rather than send me to a neonatal specialist, she would check closely for birth defects at our sonogram at 20 weeks. Specifically she mentioned mid-line birth defects of the heart, spine and possible cleft lip/palate. 
     That day came on Monday, and I was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was going to show up and the results would indicate what a perfect baby I was carrying. That He would give me peace and comfort that the medicine hadn't done damage. 
     I should have known better. 
     She was wiggly and uncooperative. She spun to put her back to the "camera" and there were no good images to be had of her heart, lower spine or face. Everything else they could see just fine, especially the fact that she is a SHE. Except the places where we wanted reassurance. 
     I was angry. Because a few weeks earlier I had read a study that sonogram technology has been linked to autism/ADHD/neurological issues. I decided on the spot that we wouldn't do another one. So God HAD to show up. Right? Ugh! So why had he abandoned me?
     We had a wonderful chat with our doctor, who was honest and admitted there are risks doing another sonogram. She didn't do all the recommended sonograms on her own pregnancy. She supported our decision after she had already told us that everything they could see on the images suggested that this baby is very, very healthy. So am I and so is the pregnancy. 
     Dan and I have peace in that if there is a defect, we live in a community with the very best doctors and medical resources. Our girl will be fine. We will be fine. Even if everything isn't perfect. 
     Life is really never perfect anyhow. It's a little broken. And a little messy. And a little unpredictable. And a lot challenging. 
     Which is why we (especially me!) NEED God. That's where I should have known better. Each time I make a step of faith, I find myself in an imperfect spot. In other words, just because I trusted God and He helped me through a situation doesn't mean He's done with me. 
     Instead, there's another step I must take. Sometimes a bigger one or a harder one than the last. It's simple really. If I didn't need Him, I might let go. But He isn't letting me. This sonogram result is really a gift, reminding me that no matter how smart technology is and no matter how much I think I can handle something on my own, I'm really hopeless and helpless without Him by my side. 
     As I worked through my anger with Him for not providing this reassurance, this answer to prayer, I realized sometimes He's answering even bigger prayers of ours. I would never want to be estranged from Him, especially in my hardest hours. Especially as I continue to be bombarded with information — like statistics about stillborn babies born to older moms — and people's insane opinions that we're too old (and consequently stupid) to "let" this happen. (For the record, we had two types of infertility but just went on a super foods diet and cleanse with an amazing company!) 
     I have a confession to make, and it's hard for me to make it. Because it shows how vulnerable and untrusting and hard-hearted I am. These comments and stories and statistics have made me detached. Fear of losing the baby has made me less engaged in this pregnancy. Less excited. Less hopeful. Sadly, I realized today that a detached mom is never a good mom. 
     A baby is ALWAYS a blessing. I realized if the baby doesn't live a day outside the womb, it's still my job (and my greatest privilege) to be the best mom I can be until the point that I'm no longer a mom to this girl or my other children. 
     So I made a decision that I will begin bonding with this sweet, active girl right now. Just like my amazing son, who has been reading stories and books to the baby since before she could read. Yes, I think I will have faith like his. Faith like a child. 

New Year, New YOU!

     Well, that's a deceiving title. I don't know if there will be a NEW YOU in 2015, but I do know there will be a NEW ME!
     I love fresh starts, do-overs, blank pages. I am a writer, after all, and there's nothing more inspiring than a new page to start a new story. I've been thinking a lot about my New Year's post, mostly because last year I was in Sierra Leone and coming off of one of the worst years in my life. I didn't write a New Year's post. I was in a not-so-good place. 2013 was a crappy year — one I KNEW I didn't want to repeat. 
     Yet, I was afraid to write down a thing. Because, you see, 2013 started on a very positive note. And it just got worse and worse until it ended in what seemed like an abyss of darkness. I could hardly bear the thought of writing out goals and starting out a positive note when so much "could" go wrong. 
     So I started out wrong. I cried at my annual doctor appointment in January, and I moped around in self pity for a few months. I became my own worst enemy. I didn't mean to; it just kind of happened gradually.
     Then I decided that if I wanted God to answer my prayers, I better use the brain He gave me to make better choices. 
     He made it clear before I began that it all hinged on one thing. Get over the pity party. God reminded me that He loved me in the miserable, pathetic place where I was living, and before I did anything, I better love the girl in the mirror. Because He did. And so did my husband. It was time for my most important choice of all. LOVE MYSELF JUST AS I AM, NO STRINGS ATTACHED, KNOWING SHE MIGHT NEVER CHANGE A BIT. 
     Just like that, I did. A few months into what appeared to be the crappy start to another crappy year, I set my goal. My one goal. 
     In April/May, I decided I was going to take the best care of myself that I humanly could and make the best choices I was financially and practically able to make to be the healthiest me. After all, I am charged with taking care of the body God gave me, the one He calls His temple. I was so used to taking care of everyone else first that it was a big adjustment, but I didn't want to miss another holiday. I had spent Halloween in bed in 2013 because it happened to be one of the 3-6 days a month that I was so sick I couldn't function.
     2014 was a mixed year. There were challenges, still, like there had been the year before. But I learned so much, mostly that while the bad years suck, they are the ones where I grow the most. The bad times are when I find myself learning more about myself and realizing just how faithful God is, as crazy as that sounds. He speaks more and more when I am hurting, sad and desperate. And that part is actually good, and my growth is also worth celebrating. 
     It also helps me remember that the accomplishments and memories during these times are that much better. 
     In 2014, I had insomnia, but I wrote a book. I had pain, but I found Isagenix. I was hurt by people I loved, but God proved He's all I'll ever need. I spent many days in bed sick, but the chains of illness were broke forever. I felt shadows of depression and then learned the way to true JOY through my Savior.
     I COULD focus on all the crappy things that happened. Or I can chose to see all the wonderful things God did in the midst of the muck and mire. That's just how good He is, that He does care very much about our hurting and suffering. Amazing character growth can come through it, and He certainly cares about that. But mostly He just wants us to cling to Him.
     Some people say we shouldn't relive the past, but I learned a lot last year, so I'd like to take those lessons forward!
     Things I did in 2014 that I want to repeat in 2015: 
     1. Fuel my body with health foods. Isagenix was by FAR the best thing in my year. I kept trying and trying and failing with better and organic foods. Nothing even came close. I'm so grateful for the healthy products I'm putting in my and my family members' bodies — and in my baby's body.
     2. More spas. I'm so thankful for my friend Jan and the spa she did for me. This has been a fabulous tool to show the LOVE of Jesus to girls and moms in a world that sees Jesus as punitive and monstrous.
     3. Write a book. I have the idea and concept for another one, and I'm praying God will show me how to publish the first one! Maybe it's just to my blog, or maybe just to the women and girls who go through the spa. I'd love for Him to show me the way.
     
     "New" goals for the new year:
     4. Spend more quality time with family. Homeschooling and working from home means we're constantly in each others' hair, but it doesn't mean we spend "quality" time together. I want to be more intentional with my family! This will be more important than ever with baby No. 3 on the way this summer.
     5. Build my Isagenix business. By the grace of God, our products are paid for, so that's HUGE and I'm grateful for it. But we do need a car because Dan can't fit four in his truck. I have specific financial goals, and I'm praying that Isagenix is the answer because not only does it help us, but the nutrition is freeing so many of my loved ones from food addictions and enabling them to eat healthier than ever before! My specific goals are to buy an inexpensive used car by May and have an income of $500 a month over and above for myself. By the end of the year, my goal is $5,000 a month. Sound crazy? I'm totally motivated to help my friends Rick and Paula Miller — missionaries who lost a lot of funding and need to get back home to Sierra Leone as soon as possible. I'm trusting God to make the impossible possible! Having more money to give is another one of the best things about Isagenix!! 
     6. Sell our house and downsize our mortgage. This goes along with No. 5. If we can shave $500 off our mortgage, it will allow us to afford baby no. 3 AND have more to give!

     Things I did in 2014 I hope to never do again: 
     7. Obsess over homeschool. I'm attending the conference and finding a more managable online school for the next school year. All this planning, grading and curriculum design is NOT my thing!
     8. Keep my house meticulous. That means our house needs to sell and soon. I don't like living in a museum state, chasing dust bunnies and getting OCD about crumbs on the floor. I'd like to move on to things that matter!
    9. Overcommit. I am learning boundaries and more about this two-letter word NO. It might require loads of therapy, but I hear using this word can be done! 
    10. Spend a week in a beach house with extended family. Thanks for the memories! A repeat is not necessary. I actually just threw this in because it's funny. It really wasn't that bad. There was a beach after all. Did I mention the beach was LOADED with the stinkiest seaweed, interspersed with six-foot mounds of seaweed? It was like a metaphor for how we felt sharing that space. I'm kidding. We loved every minute of it. There are seaweed sculptures — and photos — to prove it.  

   

Gluten....it's gotta go!

     So it seems after an eight-week gluten-free trial earlier this year, this little protein that shows up most commonly in wheat is the culprit that has been wreaking havoc on my gut for the last nine years. 
     GLUTEN. 
     The very thing I scoffed at years ago. The very thing I was so thankful wasn't "my problem" is very much my problem. Ha! 
     I didn't want it to be my problem because I didn't want to give up bread, pancakes, cookies, brownies, etc. 
     Countless emergency room visits and (pardon the TMI here) horrendous, excruciating painful gas left me doubled over in pain for days -- strung together for weeks of misery. Sometimes I couldn't get out of bed the pain was so bad!
     This gluten-free thing all started when I found a study of 275 or so endometriosis patients who did a gluten-free diet for 12 months. After a year, 75 percent of them were nearly pain free! 
     That's all I needed to hear. Early this year, when discussing my options once again with my doctor, I was determined to avoid surgery and drastic treatments for endometriosis -- mostly because it just keeps coming back, even after surgery. If I couldn't be pain-free with surgery, what was the point? I wanted a permanent solution. I craved long-lasting healing. 
     So I cut out all gluten from my diet for four weeks, which turned into six for safe measure and then eight. 
     I certainly felt no different after that time, so when I was out one weekend working on Mighty Strong Girls interviews on the road, I began eating gluten again. A big Arby's roast beef sandwich for lunch and then Avanti's -- pasta and bread -- for dinner. Two days later, I thought I was dying. It was pretty bad. Nausea, sweating, pain in the entire abdomen. 
     That's when it occurred to me that gluten may or may not lessen my endometriosis symptoms, but it certainly could be the culprit for the undiagnosed pain I had experienced for years in my upper abdomen. Tests were all inclusive. Not really a gall bladder problem. No ulcers. No scarring from reflux, but that's what they ended up saying I was suffering from -- acid reflux. 
     Again with the TMI, I had awful, embarrassing, painful and sometimes stinky gas. I wasn't sure what it was related to, though my doctor said it can be a symptom of endo.  
     It's been six months since my trial, and going gluten-free has changed my life! I feel so much better. I rarely have gas, and when I do, it's not painful. No more stomach problems and pains, and severely lessened pain related to endometriosis. 
     The key to determining my sensitivity to gluten was reintroducing it, which I'm not sure I would recommend! 
     I'm sharing this because more and more people are going on gluten-free diets. Not because it's a weight-loss thing (it's not!) but because gluten is the result of food that has been altered over the years. Like so much of our diet, it's processed. It's not the natural state of wheat. It's unnatural. And it's likely the reason for lots of illnesses, including those that affect the brain. 
     The good news is that there are now lots of gluten-free products available in almost every supermarket. I can still eat all the bread products I want, which may or may not be a good thing!
     I've read tons of articles on gluten, but I found this one fairly easy, straight-forward and all-encompassing. I highly recommend anyone who has a digestive, brain or inflammation type of illness read it, go on a gluten-free trial and see for yourself if you don't experience major freedom in your own health! 

http://authoritynutrition.com/6-shocking-reasons-why-gluten-is-bad/   Be sure to also read the linked article at the end!

Why I gave up coffee

I started a new journey to better health about six months ago after another emotional meeting with my physician, but I hesitated to write about it as I began because I wasn't exactly sure about what I was doing and whether it was "right."

What I've learned in this short time frame is significant, but mostly I realized it was time to start looking at issues so objectively. The reality is if I want to keep drinking coffee, I can find dozens of articles with claims supporting the benefits of coffee. I needed to find and do what was best for me, and I needed to get off the fence about some issues that could be beneficial to my health and extend myself grace on others.

As such, many women I know are struggling for answers to complicated and painful health issues. I hope by writing about what has worked for me, it might be of use to someone! But mostly, I think we need to recognize that not everyone's body is the same. Our struggles certainly aren't the same, but our need for better health, better nutrition and inspiration is the tie that binds us! I hope to provide good, accurate information to fulfill all three of those needs. 

The very first step I took long before I made any other decisions was prompted by some studies my husband was reading about coffee -- one of my favorite beverages. Actually, it was all I drank outside of water.

But then Dan discovered coffee was specifically linked to endometriosis, the most debilitating of my conditions that had me at the end of my rope and desperate for anything that would help me avoid surgery.

I'm not one to take someone's word for it (I blame the reporter in me...pray for my husband!), so I did some digging of my own. Here's what I found:

According to researchers at the Harvard School of Public Health, women who have two or more cups of caffeinated coffee (or four cans of cola) per day were found to be twice as likely to develop endometriosis as other women.

Not only that, by caffeine was linked to worsening fibromyalgia symptoms by interrupting healthy sleep patterns (I had recently been suffering from insomnia) which is a big factor in minimizing the painful symptoms of fibromyalia, according to a Norwegian study published in the journal Arthritis & Rheumatism.

Why stop there? Web MD says if used excessively, caffeine can be too stimulating and cause anxiety, sleep problems, muscle twitching, or abdominal pain. I have suffered from anxiety and problems caused from it since I was a child. I was recently caught in sleeplessness that was doing a number on my mind, not to mention my body. And I've suffered from abdominal pain since giving birth to my second child.

It seemed rather conclusive. Coffee was not my friend, even though I am rather fond of it! 

Initially I switched to very diluted green tea, which I noticed right off the bat leaves a much thicker, harder to remove residue in my coffee pot. It made me a bit concerned about what it was doing to my insides, and I've never fully researched the benefits of green tea. I've only heard people say that green tea is "good for you." I have no idea if that's true. Eventually I got off the green tea, but I'll write about that later. 

The one health problem I worried about most in giving up coffee was my migraines, which were leaving me in bed at least one and up to three days a month. With a migraine, I cannot read, talk or even watch television. Not exactly how I want to spend my time. 

I had always assumed that coffee was "good" for my headaches. 

According to Web MD, that is true. Caffeine is a common ingredient in many prescription and over-the-counter headache medications. Caffeine additives make pain relievers 40 percent  more effective in treating headaches. Caffeine also helps the body absorb headache drugs more quickly, bringing faster relief. By adding caffeine and, in turn, taking less medication, you can reduce the risk for potential side effects and possible drug addiction.

But what I learned recently was that even though I no longer drink caffeine, it still works quite effectively if I have a headache. In fact, it may work better. 

I had a migraine just a few weeks ago, after giving up all caffeine and making lots of other changes. Ibuprofen wasn't working, and I didn't have my migraine medicine with me. I was on my way to a date night with my husband to see a Cardinals game, and I really, really did not want a migraine to interfere. 

We stopped at a gas station and I bought a 12-ounce can of Coke. I drank it fast with a second dose of ibuprofen. Since I never drink caffeine, I think it definitely made the caffeine more effective. Headache was gone within minutes! 

I did have a three-day headache when I stopped drinking green tea, and it was a pretty rough three days, but I combined it with a 30-day cleanse. By day four of the cleanse, I felt so much better. 

More on the cleanse coming up in another blog post....

Chasing a gold standard

     I will never forget the time my husband spilled breast milk on the kitchen counter. Ever. 
     Because I cried. And it wasn't just because of my hormones. Being a first-time mom was the most stressful thing that ever happened to me. Despite the plethora of books I had read, classes I had taken and the two college degrees I had, I was fully unprepared. Entirely. Completely. 
     There was one really good thing I knew I could give my daughter, and that was breast milk. I had done my research, and I knew this was the gold standard in baby nutrition. Good for the body and for the brain. 
      I don't know what it was (hmmmm....I don't know, possibly the fact that I was stressed out as a new mom!) but my breast milk production was awful. After the first three months, it was inadequate, and I had to supplement. 
     Still, I persisted. I pumped a ridiculous three times a day at work, plus one side on the drive there and one on the drive home. I took supplements, ate oatmeal and drank tons of water. All this for about four to six total ounces daily. A baby this age takes about 30-40 ounces in a 24-hour period. Looking back, I think I must have been insane to invest all that work for so little. But I was trying to make the best decision with the information I had available to me. I wanted to do what was best for my baby.
     And that's why I cried when my husband dumped over the milk. It represented a huge investment. It was liquid gold all over the counter top that was no unusable! I was crushed! 
     I've been thinking, studying and praying a lot about nutrition lately. I'm hardly an expert, but for some reason when this story came to mind, it reminded me that the best stuff for us isn't always the easiest stuff to come by!  We have to work at it, and even then, we have to study and learn more about it. I had to understand how to adapt my diet to better provide for my baby. I wasn't equipped with this knowledge. It was a process of learning.
     We have simplified food growth to the point where it's all about volume and yield. What was done with the intentions of feeding more with less available space hasn't come with complications, criticisms, controversy and even corruption. What has become less common is man planting seeds and raising his own food or at the very least, knowing exactly where his food came from and how it was grown, processed and packaged. We have sacrificed nurturing in lieu of "faster" and "more." 
     And that's the so-called "natural" food we raise -- produce, meats and poultry, and dairy. Then there's all the fast-food nonsense and packaged goodies, filled with every kind of poison imaginable. Sugar, salt, artificial colors and flavors. Additives intended for yoga mats, additives that happen to be highly addictive. 
     I have spent most of my life eating healthy — comparatively. You know, compared to the majority of people. Not that I like to be in the habit of comparisons, but that's what I was doing. And I felt good about it. Therein lies the BIG PROBLEM with comparisons. Just because I was eating good compared to a statistic did not mean I was eating good for me. I still bought crappy food into my house "for the kids" and then ate it when I knew I shouldn't. I still ate way out of proportion, and I still ate many packaged foods despite homemade dinners every night.
     However, I've been learning lately that is is not good enough. I know better, and I can do better. I HAVE to do better. My body is unhappy; it's raging against the poor quality food I've been dumping in it the last four decades. I've fought "intestinal issues" that cannot firmly be diagnosed for seven years. I have raging endometriosis, migraines, sinus issues and fibromyaligia. The fact that I can even operate most days is miraculous. I've been a walking, talking emotional/mental/spiritual/physical time bomb. I needed a wake-up call. 
      I'm finally listening. 
     I want the spilled milk. I want the good stuff. I want the gold standard of nutrition that fosters mental clarity, stabilizes emotional moodiness, improves my physical well-being and opens me up spiritually. I don't know exactly what that is, so I'm starting with what I do know, which is a lot. I will do the best I can with what I know, committing myself to learning more as I go and forgiving myself for messing up along the way. 
     I'm not an expert. I don't understand everything there is to food. Heck, just when I think I know something, I hear a report that contradicts my knowledge. 
     But I won't be discouraged by that. I will persist. I will grow some of what I can, buy what I know to be the best when I can afford it, eat what's best for me as often as I can and then pray that God will meet me there. 
     It's not a destination. It's a journey of whole health. I will need grace. I will need encouragement. I will need wisdom. Therefore, I will need Jesus. So He will be right at the heart of this new thing. 

Girls need heroes

     About a year ago, I happened across the Instagram account of a girl on my daughter's softball team. Turns out, she was in her grade at school. If I'm doing my math right, that would have made her 9 or 10, maybe 11, at the time. 
     I was stunned. 
     First, her account was public. Anyone could view her profile and all her posts/photos/comments. 
     Second, everything she posted reeked of desperation to be loved.
     Her professed relationship status (not a mandatory part of your Instagram profile, by the way) was "used to be taken" with lots of sad faces. She had photo after photo of handwritten notes about her unrequited love for a boy in her grade. She took every opportunity to let anyone who would give her attention know that she still yearned for her ex-boyfriend and would take him back in a heartbeat.
     Third, what on earth is a child this young even doing on social media. Ugh! This kind of thing just annoys me! If you give your elementary or middle school age kid a phone and access to the internet (which I think is dangerous and unwise to begin with but if you decide they are responsible enough) police it, hover like a helicopter, comb through everything daily, watch over them like a hawk. They are children. It's your job! Help them discern what and how to post. Protect them from being vulnerable and victimized! 
     Anyway, I talked to my husband about this, as he was assistant coaching the team. He said this girl made him feel uncomfortable in her desperation for his attention, baiting him for remarks about her appearance and constantly needing to be validated that included being on her cell phone texting people if she couldn't get anyone in the dugout to talk to her. She had no sense of boundaries in relationships.
     In that entire season, I never saw a dad. I never heard mention of a dad. Not that she didn't have one. I have no idea. But he was not present. 
     Her story is hardly unique or new. Girls whose dads (or stepdads or grandpas) aren't around or available are naturally desperate for masculine love. Shouldn't this be predictable? 
     Well, we can simply observe, shake our heads and be critical. OR, we can all decide to do something to come alongside these girls. It's not their fault! 
     Of course this girl craves love. We were ALL built to desire love. 
     Why do dads matter? 
     — 21 percent of 12-15-year-olds said their No. 1 concern was not having enough TIME with their parents, while only 8 percent of parents thought they didn't have enough time with their kids. 
     — Girls who live with their mothers only have significantly less ability to control impulses, delay gratification and have a weaker sense of conscience (right or wrong). 
     — When a father is involved in his kids' day-to-day activities, they are more likely to confide in him and seek his emotional support. 
     — Girls with good fathers are less likely to flaunt themselves to seek male attention. 
     Again, these are all statistics gathered for Dr. Meg Meeker's amazing book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters: 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know. 
     How can you really live out the role of a strong father? 
     According to Meeker, you can become her hero. In fact, she's naturally chosen you, and she cannot survive without a humble hero who is her rescuer and defender. 
     "She needs a hero to navigate her through a treacherous popular culture. And you should know that being a twenty-first century hero is tough stuff. It means walking into embarrassing, uncomfortable or even life-threatening situations in order to rescue your daughter,"  says Meeker.
     As much as it irritates me that the media and popular culture is responsible for objectifying and sexualizing girls, it angers me that it demasculinizes men and boys. They've made men appear weak, spineless and without purpose.
     It's no wonder our men aren't sure how to be a hero anymore. Culture is robbing them of a key component of their God-ordained identities, just as we are deceiving girls about their value in God's eyes. 
     It's my prayer that events like this weekend's Father-Daughter Gala and others will begin to heal the past hurts that have come between relationships and seal a bond between dads and daughters that is filled with redemption and hope. 
     As Father's Day approaches, I celebrate the awesome dad my husband is for his daughter. He builds her up, joins her in the things that interest her and expresses love for her that encompasses all of who she is. 
     Let's pray for a courageous generation of dads to come to the rescue of ALL girls. We need for men to intervene when girls are young and begin speaking truths into their lives! They don't have to be dads; mentors and father figures like grandpas or uncles can be very effective, too. Godly men, it's time to be courageous; we support and celebrate you! We are fighting this battle together. Let's do it radically and with conviction! 

Peppermint tea is healing my sinus infection....again!

     Yesterday I woke up with a nasty sinus infection, probably due to the allergies that are plaguing our household. 
     I was super bummed out, because we have a family wedding coming up and a little vacation. I have lots to do before then. I don't have time for a sinus infection! 
     Despite that, it was raging. 
     I decided to go at it like I did last time — without a trip to the doctor. 

     It's not that I don't think the doctor is a good place to go for a sinus infection. It's just that I get them chronically, and I am not a big fan of antibiotics, which lead to all kinds of other complications for me. 
     So I reached for my Jordan Essential Oil Peppermint. I put a drop in my morning tea and a drop in my Sleepy Time Tea last night. (Warning: It is very, very strong. Be prepared! One drop is sufficient, but oil doesn't blend well, so you'll likely get it in the first few sips.) Later, my daughter rubbed my sinuses, helping with drainage. I'm still experiencing the effects of the infection today, but I already feel the healing. I'm about 10 times better than yesterday. So I added another drop to this morning's tea, and I'll keep doing it (while also taking a daily probiotic) until the symptoms clear up. 
     This is the second time I've used Peppermint oil to help fix my sinuses, and I'm pleased with the results!
     Earlier this year, I signed up to sell for Jordan, except I didn't plan to actually sell it. I don't have time to hold spas, but I am already using some of the products in the Mighty Strong Girls spas that we are holding as fundraisers. I figured I would simply take advantage of the discount for the products we were going to use.
     I didn't expect to get this excited about another home-based, direct-sales company. But I absolutely fell in love with Jordan! Why? 
      1. The company and founder are Jesus-centered. 
      2. The products are all made in America. In Missouri, in fact!
     3. They are all-natural products. 
     4. They are high quality. 
     5. I have loved everything I've tried so far. 
     The Sleepy blend has transformed nights for our ADHD child. The Dead Sea Salts are wonderfully relaxing and soothing. The magnesium lotion sucks the pain and weariness right out of my muscles. I could go on and on, and I probably will on future blog posts. 
     I don't expect to have parties or spas. But I would love it if you would shop in my store if there's something that interests you, because buying from my online shop (and my online Trades of Hope store) help give me an income so I can do my real job — Mighty Strong Girls.
     xoxoxo,
     Amy