Shed the pounds, shed the tears.

This is the bench on White Street in
downtown Wake Forest that has hosted
many life changing conversations for me.
Today was no different. And Georgie was
there to supervise, as usual!

I ventured out of the house this morning to sit with a friend in downtown Wake Forest. It was a game changer, for a lot of reasons.

I think having weight loss surgery has opened me up to a lot more self-reflection than I was anticipating. And as I am watching the scale go down, I am feeling things welling up within me.

Shed the pounds, shed the tears.

My friend this morning challenged me to put myself out there more. And I will. What I might need to explain is that, I have used my weight as a physical barrier from the world. So as that barrier is bound to come down completely in the next few months, I anticipate being exposed to the world more than ever. I also anticipate being open to the world more than ever.

And that's the goal.

We all have our vices, and some of us have our addictions. My addiction isn't drugs or alcohol, but food. And I have the unlucky benefit of wearing my addiction for the world to see. Sometimes I wish I had a more secret issue that is hidden away from the world. But the weight issue, for me, has been a banner I have carried, and will carry in order to help other people if I can.

So for those of us hiding ourselves from the world...let's stop. Because I know for sure that the world needs the parts of ourselves we are most afraid to show. The vulnerable, scared side. It took a conversation on a bench on White Street this morning for me to realize that. And, it takes the love of a friend to recognize and encourage that in us.

"If you weren't afraid of being yourself to people, how would that change the world?"

XO

Dear Diary. Daily.

Every day. Every single day.

Yesterday was round 2 of steroid injections. And I was all "Hey, this will be no big deal! Last time it was actually kind of fun!"

I am so naive.

This time, Dr. Bhat got me. And he got me good. Was he mad at me? Bad morning at the golf course? Obamacare got him down? Whatever it was, he took it out on me, and my bare butt (yeah he's seen my beautiful booty twice now and has yet to buy me a meal) on that x-ray table.

Someone asked me what it felt like. You know that sensation when you might accidentally chew tin foil and it hits a filling? (note: who "accidentally chews tin foil'? Me. But it happened more when I was a kid. So I am not sure what my parents were feeding me?

Or what about the feeling when you get a paper cut? But not an ordinary paper cut. This paper cut is from the lip of a manilla envelope and it's in the webbing of your hand or something.

Or if your knee cap momentarily slips out of its home and you were like "what the heck just happened to my body?"

So yeah, add those three things together and multiply them by 5 or so...it's a math problem. A painful one.

But I also said to the doctor and nurse "This hurts WAY more than last time! So that means it's going to work!" I didn't get the resounding high fives I was looking for. I think they were just appeasing me. But I am excited nonetheless.

I am up this morning, and I feel less numbness in my leg. Great sign. I can put more weight on my left leg. Great sign. I have more hope than ever. Great sign.

I do feel like God has said to me "Why has it taken this debilitating injury to get some time with you?" He's right. So I have been practicing that art of surrender and purposefully writing in my journal every morning, THANKING Him for this. Not for causing this (because He didn't...deadlifts did) but for using the pain for good. Beauty out of brokenness. And at the end of each entry I tell him that I love him and I ask for one thing: "God, please heal my body."

Because I know God can. And God will. Stay tuned...

-Liz

People plungers.

Friday night I had my friends Hannah and Austin over for dinner and a little backyard bonfire. We have all had crazy weeks, it was great to sit around and do nothing. Our conversation even brought up the question: What is the grossest thing you've ever had to work with or clean up or touch? (This question is important to the story, and is about to have a new answer.)

They left at around 10:30 and I came back into the house to the sound of rushing water. I peaked into my downstairs bathroom and my toilet was...I don't know how to put this...EXPLODING.

And I mean exploding. Like a dirty fountain filled with toilet paper, leaves, pine needles, and a number of other questionably mirky things.

It's great to get to the point where you don't know
how to thank your friends for being your friends.
Side note: we all had to throw our shoes away after
this event on Friday night.

I was standing in a few inches of water in my bathroom and thought: "What do I do?" I didn't even have a plunger.

I simply thought that one of my friends had blown up my bathroom and then high tailed it out of there. But now I have a mess. A HUGE, stinky, mess.

So I called Austin and said "EMERGENCY! Bring a plunger!" She and Hannah were at my house in 5 minutes.

To make a long story short, Hannah's dad had a carpet cleaner (thank God) and we spent the next few hours bailing out the mirky water and floating debris (that's what I am choosing to call it) and waiting for the plumber. Mike the Plumber showed up around 1 am with the tools for the job and some stories that have scarred me for life. (Note: don't ask a plumber about the weirdest thing he's ever seen unless you are prepared to be psychologically changed forever.)  Mike the Plumber's diagnosis is that one of the outside sewer lines had been cracked by tree roots and the pipe was clogged up with roots and debris, causing my toilet to clog up and eventually back up violently right into my house.

I have had some thoughts to think about this event. Strangely enough, it coincides with a hard reality that God has shown me this week. Something I have known for my whole life but am so afraid to admit:

I SUCK AT LETTING PEOPLE IN.

All caps. There, I said it. And maybe this is why I like keeping a blog. I can really bare my soul to everyone, but it's on my terms. In my words. Limited. My way. No surprises.

My back stuff has forced me to rely on others. It has slowed me down. It has made me examine myself and look in the mirror harder than ever. And Friday night was hilarious to me because I was like...embarrassed to ask for help. But I had no other choice. I had to call my friends and they had to come over and stick their hands in my shit (sorry, but seriously, that's what it was) and help me clean it up. There was no way around it.

Reminder: your texts are more
important to people than you think.

I called Austin and Hannah because I thought I just needed to borrow their plunger. That I only needed a tool from them. Austin said it pretty well at the end of the night: "The best part about this, is that you thought all you needed was a plunger."

What I needed was them. It's crazy how we use other people to get what we want, and don't even know it. But Friday, for me, was a funny reminder from God that I need people. And that's not always on my terms or the ways I want it to be. Sometimes people see the parts of me that I don't want anyone to see. And surprise surprise, they love me anyway! In fact, people seem to like knowing these parts of me!

Would I have preferred my toilet to have not exploded? Yes. But did God use it to paint me a picture of why it's necessary to let people in? Yes.

Newsflash: I don't have it all together. And neither do you. So can we stop pretending that we do?

-Liz

Don't think you're making a difference in the world? Think again.

I got a random email last week that came right on time. RIGHT ON TIME. It's amazing how that works...

Hi Liz!   I’m hoping you will remember me- we worked at KHA together and I have been following your blog and have been wanting to respond to you for so long.  My first problem is that I’m not sure how to respond to you on your blog ( I am not technology savvy) and my second problem was that I wasn’t sure you would remember me.  

I have been following since Kelli Clark sent me the link.  I was always hesitant about getting in touch with you but after reading that so many people have been responding to your past and present pictures- I thought it was time. Kelli gave me your email since I’m not on Facebook either.  (Yes, I do know what century this is.)

What you write inspires me and I just wanted you to know that even though I have never had a weight problem, some of the struggles to stay healthy are very similar( I won’t begin to act like I know what you have gone through by saying that they are the “same”.)  However, while trying to stay healthy I have really had to make myself learn what is healthy and what is not.  That is not fun because none of the good stuff is healthy as you well know! 

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that you are inspiring people in more ways than you realize because staying healthy and taking care of the bodies that God has blessed us with should be something that everyone needs to think about.  The real need is for people to know that they don’t have to do it alone and that God is always with them. You are making it possible for a lot of people to see that and I know God will continue to bless you on your journey! Thanks again for sharing – I know it’s not easy. Peace,Kathy

This email blows me away for a thousand reasons. I am sharing it because I know that today, you need to be blown away, too. You need to be reminded that you are making a difference in people that you might not even know or talk to. Or maybe it's the person that you haven't seen in a long time that just needs to hear that we are all struggling together.

This weight loss thing is a struggle. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. So let's quit trying to do it alone!

-Liz

There is no Plan B.

This picture was taken in December of 2010. You are looking at it, and it's unbelievable. Maybe, if you know us, you have seen it before. And most of you know the story behind it. But Dee shared something with me a few days ago, an update to this photo, that has still rocked my world, and it's something I will never forget.

This picture was taken in December of 2010. It was our second trip to Jamaica, but our first trip to the infirmary. The infirmary is more like, a home for the forgotten. Some are elderly, some are handicapped, all are people that have no other home. No family to care for them, no person to hug them, no home to die peacefully. So here they are, in an infirmary: a long room, lined with rusty beds and dirty mattresses.

We arrived empty handed. Our purpose was just to talk to the men and women there. Our mission was to show Jesus Christ to them. Not in our words, but in our touch. For me, it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I felt like my feet were glued to the floor. I was supposed to just go up to these people and pray for them? To hold their hands? To comfort them in their pain? How do I do that when I can barely take a step?

I was deep inside my own insecurity when I turned around to see this scene. My friend doing one of the most courageous things she has ever done. Kneeling beside the bed of a man that was gnarled up from years of pain and disability, praying for him. And 15 minutes later, still praying for him. And as she prayed, his arms and legs unfolded and stretched out in his bed, as if he was able to release the pain and torment of his failing body. What you can't see in this picture, is the tear coming out of his eye and rolling down his cheek. Maybe it was his response to pain, but I think it was his response to someone sitting with him and staying with him and being the hands and feet of Jesus to him.

It was something I can't explain.

But the other day, I asked Dee if, when we visited that infirmary again last month, in December of 2011, she saw that man she prayed for because I sure didn't. She had asked Penie that same question. Where was he? Penie informed Dee that he had passed away, not long after our visit in 2010. And we are left knowing that Dee was one of the last people to be with this man in such a powerful way. She was one of the last people to sit beside him in the last days of an excruciating illness. She prayed for him and brought him into the presence of His Father, His Daddy, the One who loves him eternally and took away his pain.

May we all go through this day and spend it with someone who needs a hand, a touch, a prayer, a conversation. Our words have power, and our God has plans for us that involve the people around us right here and right now. Remember, you are God's plan, and there is no plan B.

-Liz