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!

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. 

Persistence

     Romans 12:12 

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.

     When I launched Mighty Strong Girls four years ago, I wrongly assumed that because I was acting on the will of God that life would suddenly get better and easier. 

     Some things did. Partners quickly emerged. Prayers were answered. 

     But not everything was easy. Most of all, my personal growth and development. I had a long way to go to really prepare my heart and mind for this ministry work. 

     Why I didn't think I needed to transform just shows my spiritual immaturity. 

     I mean, think about it. Most all of those great men and women of the Bible who worked in the will of God had a period of preparation and trials that tested their perseverance. Moses tried to argue with God that he wasn't qualified. Nobody thought David would be God's chosen king for a nation. God called him at a young age, but he wouldn't become king for many, many years. During his journey of preparation, David's brothers mocked him for thinking he could go up against Goliath; Saul doubted him. 

     Sadly, attacks on ministry don't just come from the world. God's own people were some of the worst critics of those who were doing His work. Not even Jesus escaped criticism — some from his own earthly family. Judas betrayed Him; Peter denied Him.

     If Jesus had to overcome temptation and trials to complete His ministry, why do we think it will be any easier for us?  

     Discouragement is everywhere. And when it comes, it rains down on our desire to persevere.  How many of us want to quit (jobs, sports, diets, church, etc.) when things get hard? How often do we want to walk away when things seem too overwhelming? How many times do we want to let someone else carry the load when it seems to unbearable? 

     I'm reminded that to persevere in ministry, as in life, I must be persistent. How can I be persistent? As the scripture above states, I must not only never give up, but I must also be patient and in a constant state of prayer. 

     Often when I'm facing a major shaking in my life, as I am now, I sense from God that it's time to turn to Him in prayer. That perhaps I've turned away from Him or let my prayer life fade or that it's time to take my prayer to a new level. 

     It's time for me to get away so I can wait. To run off with my Bible and prayer journal, to spend time with my Beloved, who calls on me. It's time to be persistent — not just in doing His work. Sometimes we wrongly put the emphasis on what we can do: the busy work of crossing things off a list. But what He wants isn't our work, it's our relationship with Him. Persistence cannot be carried out without His guidance. I can't be guided without a relationship. I can't cross things off my list without Him. Sometimes, quite frankly, to persist we must simply stop. Stop doing so much. Stop relying on ourselves. Stop trying to control. 

     To wait on the Lord, as He says in His word, is to know Him. Persistently, I must wait patiently and in prayer.     

     Be honest. Doesn't that seem so much easier than trying to run and do and cross things off a list? Why do we think our Lord and Savior wants to create more work for us when all He really desires is that we wait and listen for Him? He is all we ever need.  

Three simple steps to be the smartest girl in the room

     OK, that title is a little misleading. This is actually a blog about three ways to get wisdom. Being smart and being wise are two different traits entirely. I know a lot of really smart, academic, intellectual, conversationally stimulating people. But most of them are unwise. 
     How could that be, you might ask. 
     Because God says so is the simple answer. 
     1 Corinthians 3:18-19a says, "Do not deceive yourselves. If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become 'fools' so that you may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight." 
     So the wise are dummies, and God wants us to be fools. I have to admit... I'm still struggling with a complete understanding of this concept.
     But the older I become, the more this comes into focus. 
     I once thought: 
     I NEED A DEGREE
     I NEED A CAREER
     I NEED A SALARY
     I NEED A BIG HOUSE
     I NEED TO LOOK LIKE "HER"
     I NEED TO MAKE MORE MONEY
     and the even more embarassing ones where I subjected friends to what I thought they needed to do. Don't get me started on all the poor, unwise counsel I've doled out over the years. 
     Today, I have two degrees, no career, no salary, a big house (OK, we do live in America, but our family is in the process of downsizing so cut me a little slack!), am content to look just the way I do and well, I still want to make more money. (Just being honest!) 
     What does God's kind of wisdom look like? Here are three ways you can be a so-called fool by today's standards: 
     1. Pray. Seek a relationship with the Lord. If you haven't yet, dive into the Bible every day. Even if you don't believe it or don't like it. The truth is if you want to oppose Christians, you probably ought to know what they believe. Go right to the source. If you are saved, go deeper in your relationship. Read your Bible more. Pray more. 
     2. Find a mentor. Actually a lot of today's standards are beginning to preach this, often based on John Maxwell's books. He's also a Christian. My faith has grown tremendously because of my mentors. Just one word of warning, there can be some Christians who are not exactly looking out for your best interests. (And remember all the horrible advice I've churned out?) Be sure to line up their thoughts with the Bible, and pray to be certain. I've had even well-meaning friends give me some awful advice. Most of what I've learned from mentors wasn't so much from their advice as it was from their example and their encouragement. If you are uncertain of the kind of person your mentor is or they seem to be overly critical, you might want to pray about whether that's a healthy relationship. 
     3.  Get involved in Mighty Strong Girls. Oh my! Who saw that coming... what an awful sales pitch! Actually, the magazine that will be revealed on Sunday is all about WISDOM. We are beginning to theme our publications on the new names the girls get in the God Spa. So we will study for 10-13 weeks about what it means to be wise. If any of my female readers out there think they would like to lead a small group, we are looking to plant more Mighty Strong Connections groups in central Illinois. Women who want to come alongside girls to be available as mentors, to love on them, to help guide them to be who they were created to be in Christ Jesus. As a mom, I'm so thankful that my daughter is in one of these groups where she can explore her own identity when it comes to Biblical wisdom of body, soul and spirit. How we treat our minds, deal with our emotions, handle our physical beings and grow spiritually matters very much to God. 
     In fact, He's begging us to come to Him. James 1:5 says, "If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you." 
    Whoa! That's huge! He has a gift he wants to give to us in heaping portions, and He isn't waiting there with a laundry list of our shortcomings to hold over our heads. Nope, He just wants us to ask. Come and get it. 
     So that's the offer I extend to you. Come and get it. Find out more about Mighty Strong Girls and how you can be a part of or help start a new small group in your home or church. We will be celebrating and selling the new issue of the magazine on WISDOM at 3 p.m. Sunday at Calvary Christian Temple in the Oasis room. Hope to see you there! 

Three ways to show LOVE

Ephesians 4:32 - Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

If God is LOVE, I learn from Him how to display love. If I meditate on how He first loved me, I realize so much more about love. 

I mean, really think about it. If you know even a glimmer of the LOVE of God, compare that to wordly love. Love that we see in the movies, read about in books or witness between people in our lives. The love I see around me is often fake, based on material things and impatient. Fictional love in movies and books is uncomplicated, contrived, forceful.

God's LOVE looks so different than that. I realize that even when I was a hot mess, LOVE was patient, kind and gentle. God wasn't demanding or in my face. He also never left me, even when I left Him. He didn't dwell on my past mistakes. He forgave and forgot. He went out of His way to be kind to me, allowing me to understand my identity and be the person He created and even to serve Him in ways that bring joy to me. He even sent His son to die for me. That's sacrificial and complete and mysterious and amazing!

So, if we strive to show LOVE to others, we share with them the LOVE that God gave us personally. Here are three ways based on my personal knowledge of God to shower LOVE on each other: 

1. Be patient. That means we can't expect immediate results from our love of others. We can't throw a fit when we don't get our way in love. Are we even supposed to "get our way" when it comes to love? We need to set down our expectations. We need to put others above ourselves, even when they don't deserve it. Remember, God didn't rush you into a decision to follow Him, and we would be wise not to rush others into .... well, anything at all. Trust God when your intentions seem to be falling flat. 

 2. Be kind. Often when we are called to LOVE someone in Christian ways, it's someone who is hard to love. LOVE them anyway. Go out of your way to show kindness. Find out their love language (there are five: acts of service, words of affirmation, receiving gifts, quality time and physical touch) and use them to remind them that they are worthy of LOVE. Do this even when they don't deserve it. Do this especially when they are hard to love. That's the LOVE of our Father, who loves us even in our sin, even when we don't deserve His kindness. 

3. Be gentle. Don't remind others constantly of the reasons they are a hot mess. Don't point out their sins, their stumblings, their mistakes especially when they never asked you to play this role in their lives. Simply point them to Jesus, and let Him do the judging. Think about it: Did God reveal your sins to you BEFORE you were in a relationship with Him? Of course He didn't. Don't be the judge and jury for anyone, unless of course they have asked you to help them with their sins. A gentle love encourages and lifts up. It doesn't tear down and hate.

All of these have one thing in common: God. Submit to Him. Submission is not the negative, miserable, forceful thing our world tries to teach us it is. Submitting requires wisdom and grace. It's hard, but it's so worth it. Submission to God puts Him in control. When we trust Him, we are empowered to be the expression of LOVE He wants to reflect of Himself in our world. It's a beautiful thing. 

Finally, read 1 Corinthians 13. But each time you see the word "love," substitute God in its place. This is a little exercise my friend Jan Koch does with the Mighty Strong Girls spa. It's pretty powerful. Get your Bible, and read it aloud. It will remind you of how wonderful, beautiful and amazing the LOVE of God is, and who doesn't need that reminder?

Her healing was complete in Christ

     I have discovered over the years that while I sometimes feel like the queen of “TMI” (too much information), it is often my fear of talking about life in real ways that isolates me and keeps me from receiving all God wants for me.
      Not only that, but it separates me from others instead of uniting us. Because our stories are the explanations for why we stumble, the reasons we sometimes succeed, and why we may appear the way we do to others around us.
      Until we understand what motivates another human being, we cannot be united.
      It is time, if there ever was another, to be authentic, genuine and transparent. That is the heart of Mighty Strong Girls —to shed light on all things the enemy would have us keep hidden shamefully in the dark.
      So here’s a couple reveal-all truths about me: I have five plantar warts on my feet — two on one foot and three on another. Not that big of a deal, you may think. They have been there since my last pregnancy — 10 years ago! They have been frozen twice at my dermatologist‘s office, and I have tried every medical and alternative treatment at my disposal to no avail. In the meantime, both of my children have gotten the virus and developed warts that were easily treated and cured. I sooooo want a pedicure, but I’m plagued by embarrassment and shame.
      Here’s the second TMI: I struggle frequently with severe, sometimes debilitating pain caused by endometriosis, a disorder of migrating ovarian tissue that —in my case — has attached itself to my bowels and other organs. I find myself often clenching my teeth through the pain, fearful of lashing out at others around me as it takes every bit of emotional energy and mental strength — not to mention the grace of God and a plethora of prayers — to prevent the “outer me” from being a reflection of the turmoil and angst I feel on my inside.
      When there is something about your body that seems odd, pain-filled, unusual or untreatable, it begins to transform how you feel about yourself. A few warts can make a middle-aged mom quite self-conscious; the pain of my disorder can make me feel all-around ugly.
      It makes me identify just a little with the unnamed sick woman in the Bible. She had been bleeding for 12 years. She was suffering, and doctors could do nothing, as her condition grew worse instead of better.
      Do you know anyone who has been through such a trial? Have you? I cannot fathom her fear and pain, but in her faith, she sought out a different type of healing.
      I do not think it was a desperate manuveur, though I imagine her life was lived in a state of desperation. She had heard the stories of Jesus — this Son of God, Son of Man who performed miracles, who was healing the sick and lame, exorcising demons and walking on water.
      She must have known without a shadow of a doubt that He was capable of doing what no mere human could and stop the bleeding once and for all. It probably took an extraordinary effort in those days to get close the Him, as crowds of thousands followed Him everywhere He went.
      She did not have a friend in His ministry or influential contacts (I imagine she was lonely, as often those with long-term medical issues are rejected and discarded by society at large), so she would have to take her bleeding, aching body and make her way to Him. She was not planning a face-to-face meeting; she probably did not feel worthy of taking up any of Jesus’ precious time, as I imagine most everyone else didn‘t treat her as valuable so even in her faith, she likely doubted He would either!

      Still, she thought to herself that all she really needed was to touch the hem of his cloak. So she pressed in. She pressed in to the crowds and pressed in to get close enough, and she reached out.
      The bleeding stopped and instantly the sick woman was no longer defined by the malfunctioning body she lived inside. The chains were broken; she was free. It must have felt absolutely indescribably incredible. But this was not a feeling exclusive to her. Just as instantly as she touched the fabric on Jesus‘s cloak, He felt her healing, too.
      Can you imagine? Our healing is not something we alone feel. It is not an isolated celebration. Not only does the Lord know when we are healed, he feels and experiences it alongside us! Isn’t that exciting!
      Jesus knew His power had been utilized even in the midst of a sea of bodies bumping and knocking into Him like waves. Even the bewildered disciples asked Him how He could single out one person touching Him in the wild crowd. But Jesus wants to acknowledge her, not because He does not know. He simply is inviting her to share her testimony. So He waits.
      Finally the woman — now defined by her wholeness and not her unhealthiness — acknowledges, fearful of God, trembling at the feet of Jesus and confessing that it was her.   She is a woman who knew the fear of God. She is aware of his almighty power, that He is God of the universe who can do great and wonderful things.
      She had been shunned and dismissed — the kind of patient who keeps relentlessly pursuing medical care for the same symptoms. Doctors were probably patient initially,
determined to find a cure, to get to the bottom of her mysterious bleeding. But after 12 years, I wonder how many of those experts remained resolute in finding a cause for her
hurting. Who, I wonder, remained by her side at all for all those years as her health continued on a downward spiral?
      She schemed and succeeded. She seized the wonderful power of God through the vessel of Jesus and His healing touch. Now Jesus wanted her to share what she had done. In fact, Luke’s version of the story says she tells her story “in the presence of all the people.”
      Don’t you think that’s why He asked, so that she would share her testimony of her wholistic healing? It wasn’t just about the physical. I believe Jesus wanted her to understand the whole healing that had taken place just then — emotionally, she now knew true love; mentally, she was freed from the torment of physical pain and the sadness of social isolation; and spiritually, she had no doubt of her Savior, as she entered a personal, intimate relationship with the Son of God.
      Jesus wanted her to verbalize her story — not for His sake. For the crowd to hear, for her to know, for you to understand the mysterious, amazing power of God and what He desires to do in our lives because of His great love for us when we simply fear him and have faith.
      “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering,” Jesus says to the woman in Mark 5:34.
      His healing starts with trust and faith. To open myself up for physical healing through expert care, I must connect with the master Healer spiritually, to be available for the miraculous, to trust in a healing power not entirely available in my physician’s office.
      To fully heal means I must be willing to change, open to something radical, much like the woman who had seen all the doctors and done all the “normal” things. I must also be open to sharing, willing to tell others, available to testify to the power of Jesus.
      My Savior desires for me to be authentic, honest, real, transparent and available to share His truth. This is what heals, but it is also what unites. It is what bonds us and saves us.
      We invite you, dear readers and sisters in Christ, to open your mind and heart to the stories and ideas as you take a journey on with Mighty Strong Girls to transform.
      The first step to change begins on the inside; it is a LIFELONG ENDEAVOR with everlasting consequences.

     Mighty Strong Girls is evolving — now filled with more girls' stories, more advice from girls to girls, a FREE small group study guide, and growth opportunities and challenges in wholistic health. You can now buy a copy online at http://mightystronggirls.com/the-magazine.html

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! 

Dads play a HUGE role in affirming a girl's true value!

     Not long ago, I overheard a man compliment a teen girl he knew. 
     "You're getting so thin and tan and fit. You're really looking good," he told a girl, who looked a little shocked and embarrassed by the remark. 
     I don't think the man meant harm. I believe he wanted to let her know that she was evolving into a lovely young lady, and I hope his intentions weren't just about the physical transformation. Sometimes, especially with people we don't know well, we can't find the right words. It's those times when no words might be better!
     Well, this girl happens to be thin, tan and fit mostly as a result of a sport she excels at, so perhaps focusing on that would be more appropriate. I felt just awful for her, awkwardly hanging on his every word. Fortunately, she's the kind of girl who knows she's more than the superficial.
     More than anything, all people need to know they matter. But when the message girls repeatedly get is about their body shape, skin color, size/weight, makeup, hair, eyes, legs, butt, curves, then suddenly they realize that's what matters MOST. It's hard enough when the media focuses only on these, but when people do....well, just ick! These girls are more than the sum of their "parts." What about their intellect, talents, skills, interests, goals, academic pursuits, athletic abilities? It suddenly all comes down to how physically attractive — how "sexy" they are. 
     I'm watching my own 11-year-old daughter evolving into this young lady, a process that is just as much an emotional and intellectual maturity as a physical one. Some of her traits that have always been there are becoming more honed, more obvious — her compassion, her service, her creativity, her giftedness. She NEEDS to know she's loved for her character and her attributes that have nothing to do with her physical appearance.
     ALL girls need and deserve to know, and they need to know from their dad or a father figure.
     Here are a few reasons why: 
     — Parent connectedness is the No. 1 factor preventing girls from indulging in drugs and alcohol and premarital sex. 
     — Girls with doting fathers are more assertive. 
     — Daughters who perceive their fathers care about them, who feel connected to their dads, have significantly fewer suicide attempts, fewer instances of body dissatisfaction, depression, low self-esteem, substance use and unhealthy weight. 
     — A girl's self-esteem is BEST PREDICTED by her father's physical affection. 
     — Girls with good fathers are less likely to flaunt themselves to seek male attention. 
     — Girls with involved fathers wait longer to initiate sex and have lower rates of teen pregnancy. Teen girls who live with both parents are three times less likely to lose their virginity before their 16th birthday.
     All of these are statistics Dr. Meg Meeker compiled for her highly-recommended book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters: 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know. 
     If you haven't spent some quality time with your daughter lately — or you know a girl who could use a father-figure in her life — please take three hours this weekend to show her she matters! Life is busy. Time moves quickly. But you can be the answer to a big prayer in her life...show her she matters for all the right reasons! And it takes such a small investment: Three hours and $20. What you'll get in return is priceless!
     Some awesome volunteers with Mighty Strong Girls are taking the awkward out of this by holding this special event where you can spend quality time together, create memories and give your daughter what she needs. 
     Buy your tickets now at http://www.eventbrite.com/e/father-daughter-gala-tickets-11674624115?aff=eorg

This year's swimsuit shopping shocked me!

Something new happened when I went shopping for a bathing suit this year. It was unexpected and shocking. 

First, I found several on the rack that I sincerely liked — and not because of the label language that goes something like this: "flattering on all figures" or "pattern that disguises tummies" or "perfect for post maternity (and moms who had babies 10 years ago and still can't get the weight off)."

 

So I stepped in the dressing room with an armful of suits and something new: optimism. Oh, two something news. I also brought an accomplice.

 

I pulled on a bathing suit top first. It tied around the neck and the midriff, with a mostly open back. There were four layers of ruffles down the front. It was black and white and bright pink with lots of polka dots. It was very happy and fun. So much so that I had taken two tops of similar styles with me into the dressing room. 

“Oooo, mom, I love it. It looks so good on you!” said my enthusiastic 11-year-old daughter after she secured the ties in the back.

Normally a suit like this would have specific “triggers” for self loathing: the low cut that might show off a mole I don’t like, the general wide exposure of the back that could reveal the folds of skin on my “fat back.” 

Those were the reject-worthy features I was specifically looking for, but here’s what was unexpected. I didn’t see them, the negative things. The mole. The rolls. Maybe they were there, maybe not. All I saw was a pretty phenomenal looking middle-age woman in a bathing suit that flattered her figure. 

“Wow,” I replied. “I love it, too! Well, I guess I’ll try on the others to see if I like any of them.”

Normally, that would be a bad idea. If you’ve ever shopped for a swimming suit, I’m pretty sure this is a golden rule. If you find one that you like — even the slightest bit — you stop trying on suits immediately and buy it. The odds of further swimming suit shopping success are stunted at best. To keep trying them on is an invitation for disappointment.

It had been two years since I graced the dressing room with a bathing suit. I typically shop at a large department store with a huge selection and a range of reasonable prices. I would not mind paying more for a suit that made me look more fit than I am. In the past, I might have even considered taking out a loan for one that could erase 20 years. 

I would drag a dozen suits illegally (six item limit and all….as if you really want to make the walk of shame to the discard rack that many times!) to the dressing room. What kind of lighting is this, I would wonder, as I pulled off my clothing and contemplated the frumpy, stretched and pocked thighs and belly appearing before me. 

Well, it must be a combination of the lighting and this cheap mirror, I would think, because there’s no way I really look like that. Do I???? 

So after the first 12 discards and the walk of shame, I would creep back into a different dressing room — the one in the back where the flickering fluorescent light is, a gamble that a shadow or six might improve things — my shoulders sagging a bit more than the time before. 

As I would suck in my stomach and fight with myself about the fact that I am now one size away from the plus sizes — how did that happen? — I would pray that this one would be THE ONE.

 

A match made in heaven. 

 

A God-ordained suit that would make me look like I didn’t just down a pantry of Doritos and glazed donuts washed down with a monster-size fountain soda.  (I don't really eat those things...I just have a figure that indicates that I do.)

Please, God, please! 

 

Make this torture end. 

 

I manage to get by most days with a decent self-respecting confidence, and this feeling is uncomfortable. I KNOW I am more valuable than the way I look in a bathing suit, but is it too much to ask for you to ordain a bathing suit for me that will make me feel good about myself while swimming, too? 

So here I am, two years later, loving one suit and trying on two more. 

The second one is tricky. It’s adorable — bright pink and polka dots — but it’s hard to tug on. It’s a size too small. It fits, but the fight of putting it on isn’t worth it. I set it aside. If they have it a size up, I know I’ll buy this one, too. 

And my daughter, she loves it! She’s gushing about not just the suits but how great they look on me. I could do this all day. This happiness and pleasure in a dressing room is unheard of...I think I heard the clerks discussing whether to have security on backup in case I was delusional, on the verge of breakdown and putting the whole store at risk.

It’s about this point I realize that I had not showered yet today. We worked at a garage sale all morning, and I had no makeup on. Can you believe it? I was shopping for a bathing suit with no makeup on, with hairy armpits. Unheard of! The giddy factor just raised two notches, and I could definitely hear murmurs of disbelief on the other side of the door.

I’m grabbing the third suit at this point. It’s floral print with a style that is reminiscent of the 1950s. I absolutely love this suit, so I’m praying God will make this a match, too! Why not? Things are going so well.

I pull up the straps of the one-piece, and my daughter is in love with it. I spin and look. Wow! I look like Marilyn Monroe. Curvy and carefree and cute as a button. 

I step out of the dressing room, my shoulders back, my neck stretched high, my chin up. I meet up with my husband and son. 

“You’re never going to believe this,” I say, still reeling from the shock myself. “but I love every suit I tried on. This never happens. So which one do you like?” 

I hold them up and he picks the pink polka dot. I go to the rack and grab the next size up. Unfortunately, it was mislabeled and I had to return it. I ended up getting the Marilyn Monroe number. I love how it makes me feel. 

I spend the next several days reflecting on this experience. What changed in two years? 

Initially, I attribute it to the fact that I had my daughter there, cheering me on, telling me how fabulous I looked in every single suit. I must admit, that was nice. I think I will bring her next time. She saw me the way I should have seen myself, and it was a good check and balance. I believe she helped me see past the self criticism, as I always choose my adjectives wisely around her when it comes to the way I see myself. 

Here’s the kicker, though. I was shopping at Wal-mart. I would normally never consider buying a bathing suit at Wal-mart. The dressing room was a mess. The lighting and mirror had to be way less flattering than anything I had ever been exposed to in a suit. 

Aside from her comments, I was giddy about how nice I looked in the suits. I think mostly what happened was a shift in my perspective — a transformation that began on the inside two years ago that made me look at my physical self in a whole new way. 

I cannot be absolutely sure, but I am fairly certain I am bigger and weigh more than I did two years ago. 

I’m learning to love myself — even without makeup. Even the stretch marks. The ones my husband has loved since they day they became part of me — somewhere in the sixth or seventh month of my second pregnancy. Badges of honor, he called them. Rewards for being able to be the mother of my son, the miracle conception. Well worth it to wear them the rest of this life. 

Easy for him to say. 

Turns out it was easy for me to say, too, but simply harder to believe. My baby will turn 10 this summer, and I can FINALLY just now in this moment at age 40 agree that I love them when I look at them. It’s true…I LOVE my stretch marks. 

It’s funny when I mentioned them the other day, my husband insisted I didn’t have any. He applauded them 10 years ago and forgot them in the time that’s lapsed since. He doesn’t see them anymore. Or at least he doesn’t label them. They are simply a part of me like any other part. 

Why do we loathe a process of change that is God-ordained. My physical beauty is SUPPOSED to fade — or droop, depending on your perspective. Stretch marks, spider veins, wrinkles, grey hair…they are all part of life and aging. If God created us, and this is natural aging, then it is GOOD! Why on earth would we ever presume to criticize the work of a holy, loving God?

What is even better than how I look in this moment is the transformation of realizing the truth in this. What I love most about my swimming suit experience isn't that I loved what I saw, it's that I loved what I FELT. The emotional part was exhilarating!

2 Corinthians 4:16 says “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.” 

Praise be to God for the transformation that is the renewal of my inner self who sees what God sees: True beauty!

An update on adoption, Denney Photography and Mighty Strong Girls

Have you ever gotten excited about something that God put in your heart? 

Two years ago, I attended an orphans conference and heard beautiful stories of adoption. I knew then and there it was something I could do, and I felt like God wanted my family to adopt. Since then, I've been excited (and anxious) about adding to our family.

A little less than a year later, my husband was at a church leaders conference when a speaker spoke for less than three minutes about adopting one of his children. Then and there, he received God’s word that we are to adopt. Seven months or so later, our children were able to instantly “find” enough money to cover the fees for an application for adoption. So we applied. We earnestly thought it was God's will. We were all comfortable with the challenges adoption brings and excited to see God's glory shine in and through the brokenness.

 

But then there was a communication snafu with the adoption agency we were working with, and it seemed we were already late with the $5,000 fee, on top of needing anywhere between $2,000-$6,000 for our home study that needed to begin right away. We thought we had 90 days to raise the money, and because our case worker dropped the ball in explaining anything to do with finances, they were gracious and gave us a 30-day extension. 

We were super busy at the time with the kids and Dan being in Jungle Book and me writing and photographing on deadline for Mighty Strong Girls, so it was obvious that if it was God's will for us to adopt right now with this agency, it would be His miraculous act that would make it possible. We ended up with a $50 donation right away and then nothing.  The 30 days came and they went.

Part of me wanted to (still wants to?) grieve. I have been saving the kids' clothes for hand-me-downs, dreaming of bedroom remodels. We've been praying for our children. We've been faithful. We've been hopeful. 

And yet, reality was hitting us hard over the head. Both kids NEED new mattresses, and we have no way to buy even those. We have a couple medical bills in collections, and then we discovered that the credit card we use for Mighty Strong Girls, Trades of Hope, gas and occasional food had suddenly been "maxed out." There was only $2,000 of "wiggle room," and while we knew I was without the teaching job that paid $500 a month, we didn't guard this very carefully and it grew. 

 

Why do I share such intimate details? Most people cringe at personal finance stories.

 

I KNOW that many of us go through such trials, and because we announced our adoption here, it seems only fitting to announce our un-adoption here with the reasons. 

 

YES, I believe in a big God who can do all things, and I had a few in the adoption community call out my doubt. But as former leaders of Financial Peace University, we knew we were being less than good stewards by letting things slide. Does God want us to adopt AND pay off our debt? Yes! But we believe He stopped this process so that we could see that it's time to right the financial wrongs FIRST so we can then get back to the adoption He so clearly put on our hearts and continue living in the principles He has taught us. He's here to help us not to hurt us!

 

I was feeling shame and regret, condemnation and criticism because I thought we failed, that I failed. That I disappointed my family. None of these are feelings are of God! 

 

Did we somehow screw up? You betcha! We are human, and we stumble. We know better. Oh my gosh, we know so much better. And if wasn't for the grace and glory of God, we would have far more debt right now than we do. Plus, we know what to do to get out of it. 

 

Here's where it gets sticky. It seems obvious to "get out of it," I need to get a job, right?

 

But something about scanning classifieds and considering a $15 per hour graphic design job seemed "icky." I could invest (I guess on credit) in Denney Photography. 

 

So I went back to "basics," the basics that have led me thus far. I prayed. I asked God to intervene, to show me the path to take, AND I promised I would be obedient. Uh-hum, the sticky part. 

My daughter had passed out magazines to the teen girls on the Jungle Book cast, and one of the moms wanted to talk to me. I knew this on Friday but didn't run into her. Saturday morning was when I went on a bike ride and I said my prayer before going to work at Jungle Book. It was then that I ran into her — the nameless woman I had never before met. It was SO WEIRD! She was asking questions and shaking her head in agreement before she spoke. She admitted she didn't read the magazine but only saw the cover. Then she began speaking to me with authority. It was almost like God was standing there talking to me through her! She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "If you are really serious about this, you have to give it everything you've got." 

I have always felt like this is what God wants of me. To brush all else aside. To focus on Mighty Strong Girls alone. It seems impossible, as there is barely enough in faith pledges to cover the basic necessities, let alone a salary of any sort. Plus, it was my photography that literally saved our butts in the last couple weeks as Dan took three days off for his grandpa's death and funeral (he doesn't get paid time off).

I absolutely believe and KNOW that God can do all things, and that the timing isn’t for us to figure out. I can count at least a half dozen reasons the adoption isn't in His timing right now, the most important being that it's about the kids He has planned to join our family.

So, what does this mean for our family? A lot of scary things, I suppose. A restructuring of Mighty Strong Girls is coming that will allow it to be both a mission (Business as Mission) AND a ministry. It will open up doors for us to sell magazines, advertising, event tickets and other things that simply aren't acceptable under IRS rules with our Ripe for Harvest partnership. We still are accepting and NEED donors more than ever. Those are tax-deductible through account 381 with Ripe for Harvest, and they allow us to do printing of the magazine as well as one-on-one ministry with preteen and teen girls.

It also means I am closing the doors on Denney Photography. I won't renew the website, so if you have a gallery online, place your orders soon! At first, this saddened me, but in prayer, I don't think it's the end of my creative and portrait photography work. For one thing, I am doing this now for Mighty Strong Girls, which gives me great joy! We can set up a shopping link on the Mighty Strong Girls website and sell prints from the magazine to help offset our expenses. Also, I will continue to take photography work as God brings it to me without investing time and money in marketing it. I don't need fancy tools, flashy props or sophisticated websites to bring me the small amount of work it would take to help our family. And this way, I can feel free to say no if it interferes with Mighty Strong Girls. I don't know entirely what this looks like, and I'm not convinced that He won't tell me to drop it all together. But God has certainly used my photography to bring blessings to others and to our own family's mission work, so I'm not feeling like the rug should be ripped out here. 

As for Trades of Hope, I'm a little less certain. God clearly brought that to me. But I never felt like I was to sell it, so for now, I'm simply praying.

Clearly a lot is in flux, so more than anything, I would appreciate your prayers. I believe in Mighty Strong Girls more than ever, and I know that's where God would have me focus all the energy and time I can offer. But I can't do it without your help, your support and your prayers. Thanks for them...they are literally the fuel that keeps me going!