"You are f**king worthy!"

A sign from my friend's classroom. Kids need to hear this.
So do we.

So I am two weeks out of surgery. My days are pretty basic right now. I have a few regimens I have to keep. I take 10 vitamins a day at very specific times. I have to find a way to get at least 80 grams of protein in and 100 ounces of water. No sugar, and no carbs. That is more challenging than it seems since I can't chug water or eat anything quickly. I eat with a baby spoon and it takes me about 30 minutes to try and eat an egg. But good news! I can eat an egg!

One of my favorite basic things right now is walking with friends. I have had great walks with great friends almost every day. Our bodies want to move, it's part of recovery. Most of these walks turn to deep conversation quickly, which I LOVE. Because let's be real...that's what matters most.

My friend and I were talking about life and love and how we settle for second best so much in life. We talked about this idea that people use love as currency. I will only give you as much love as you will give me, I will spend love like money, and I will withhold love like money. Why do we do that?

I think that all of us, in different seasons, have settled because we don't think we deserve more. That someone, somehow along the way, has put something in our heads to make us believe we don't deserve everything. I know I have. For years and years and years.  So instead of working through pain, I would stuff it down with food. Instead of reaching out to others, I would reach into a drive-thru window.

It's amazing what happens when the thing I used to always turn to for comfort, is no longer an option. I used to live to eat. Truly. Now, I am struggling to eat to live. Protein shakes are keeping me alive. And I am finding so much more comfort from people in my life. More than I ever dreamed I would. And that would not have happened if I didn't let go of the comfort I was seeking in food.

Let's not waste anymore time. Let's stop keeping a record of wrongs and start trusting each other. Let's spend love without caring about how much we get back. At the end of my walk on Tuesday, and our conversation around this, my friend declared "You are f**king worthy!" She is so right. We all are.

We all are.

When the boat splits from the dock.

When I was in high school, I worked at a young life camp in New York called Lake Champion. I was there volunteering for 5 weeks, and it was the best summer of my life for all the reasons. One of those transformational experiences that every 17 year old needs and longs for.

I worked in the kitchen, and on a break one day I went on a little boat ride across the lake with one of my staff friends. We got back to the dock so I could go back to work. Right at that time, all of the kids were getting out of club (which is like a big assembly) and about 500 of them were walking along the waterfront. 

I got up to hop out of the boat. I put one foot on the dock, and kept one foot in the boat. And I hesitated. I hesitated just long enough to look down and watch in slow motion terror as the boat split from the dock. And my legs split from each other. And the windmill arms started, and I took a swim.

I took a swim wearing jeans and kitchen gear (complete with apron). Have you ever tried to gracefully emerge from lake water in jeans and an apron? Don't.

The best part as I shimmied myself up onto the dock was the silence from 500 high schoolers on the waterfront. But then, the impending applause and general laughter at the balancing act they just got to see. To this day, watching windmill arms when someone's falling is one of my favorite things. Because when have windmill arms ever saved you from falling?!

The morale of the story? Don't hesitate. When you need to jump, jump. Don't waffle between where you were and where you're going. I am finding it so scary to navigate this new life that is revealing itself to me, because I don't trust it yet. I still think I will be the one medical anomaly for whom duodenal switch surgery doesn't work for. Even though I have lost 39 pounds since I started the program (and that's down 20 pounds since July 11th surgery date), I still can't picture what's to come as the scale continues to go down. And I still can't believe it's going to work, because I have lost weight before and then watched it come back.

The boat left the dock for me on July 11th. The good news is that I was safely drugged up on the dock when the boat left. I didn't have a choice to stay in it. Now I get to explore this new land that the dock is connected to.

It's not brain surgery.

You may have won the battle, Oikos, but you
will not win the war.

I must admit, it is jarring to go from a rather hectic life of working at the YMCA (which is pretty much a 24-7 job) and being a town commissioner (which is pretty much a 24-7 job) to a life of trying to drink 8 ounces of water and keep down yogurt.

My nausea subsided yesterday, thank God! My goal yesterday was stay hydrated, and try to get in 80-100 grams of protein. It took me two hours to eat a yogurt. And I didn't come close to getting in my protein goal. But I am taking it slow and trying not to overdue it. The littlest things wear me out. I did laundry and took a shower and I felt like I had run a marathon.

But the most interesting thing I have found it how my brain is still thinking about food. It doesn't help that most commercials are about food. And not just food...how happy people are when they can eat bottomless fries and giant burgers with onion straws and mountains of cheese cake and unlimited salad and breadsticks (yes, I am talking to you, Red Robin and Olive Garden). It is surprising that those images don't nauseate me. They actually make me hungry. And a little bit sad.

But that's because my doctor operated on my gut, not my brain. My brain still wants to live like an overeater. In fact, my brain still thinks that I can. And that's the trickiest thing about the next few weeks...to focus on eating to live, not living to eat.

My kind neighbor wanted to help me and bring food over, but she stopped herself and we both laughed at how food is love. When people are sick, we bring them food. When there is a wedding, we eat cake. When there is a funeral, we bring casseroles.

One of my co-workers stopped himself when he said he wanted to set up a meal chain for me while I was out. Again, we both recognized that food is how we show love. It is so difficult to retrain our brains to think about NOT turning to food in crisis, emotions, celebrations, and social outings.

I'll let you know when I figure that one out. For today, I am focusing on conquering that greek yogurt.  And taking life one small baby spoon bite at a time. (no seriously...I had to buy baby spoons at Target...)

Who do you run to?

I've been watching my reaction to life changes lately. This is a sobering yet very necessary process.

The biggest life pattern I've seen is how I run to food in the midst of...whatever. Whatever emotion it is, you name it, I run to food. It's usually different foods for different moods, but it's still always food. A cheap imitation of what I am really looking for.

See, I think we complicate our lives and reason away our need for God. We run to other things simply out of pride. Because if I run to God instead, I am admitting that I am not the center of my universe and that I just might need help because I am out of control. Gasp.

I am kicking around this idea of writing down all of the painful food moments I have had in my life. All the ways I have used food as a comfort, an escape, a companion, a horrible friend. This list is long and embarrassing. Every day some other moment pops up that reminds me of how I have used food in the past to try and fill that God shaped hole in me. But don't fool yourself, you have that hole too. And I bet there is something that you try to fill it with. Maybe for you it's not food. Maybe it's a guy. Or a job. Or a sport. Or a religion. None of these things replace the relationship with Jesus that we were made for.

So why do we keep doing it?

Last week I was lucky enough to attend the Willow Creek Leadership Summit in Chicago. I still have a brain hangover from it. It also showed me some ugly things about myself and my reactions to pain. When people hurt me (and I feel so deeply that this happens more than you think), I don't run to God. I run to food. Because food never changes. I know exactly what those Cool Ranch Doritos will taste like, and I need to numb the pain of being hurt, even for a few moments with Dorito crumbs on my fingers.

I wish we would all stop being so tough. I wish we would all climb over these walls we've built. But I know that the reality is that I can't make that change for the whole world, although I will devote my life to trying. I will also commit to running towards the only permanent, loving, eternal person in my life. The person that knows me better than anyone and that will never change, never hurt me, and never leave me.

No one else has claim to that place but Jesus himself.

And to be honest, I could really use some running partners.

-Liz

Sweet little lies

When I started this blog specific to my weight loss journey, it was meant for the sole purpose of holding me accountable to keep at it. I knew that, if I made it known to everyone that I was doing this, that it would be much harder for me to quit.

What it's turned into, is a place for me to be reminded that I am not alone. A lot of us feel the same way, whether or not we've ever admitted it. Today I am struggling with something that I know is universal. It doesn't matter if you're battling weight loss, or if it's something else. Whatever it is, this concept, for me, is all the same:

What happens when you start believing lies?

Over the past few weeks, here are a few lies that I have believed. See, believing in these lies temporarily, even for a moment, creates a setback for me, because it only takes a second for me to fall off the wagon and do something stupid.

Have you ever believed one (or all) of these lies?

1. You can't do it. You'll probably never get to where you want to be, and you've gone pretty far, so give yourself a break.
2. Nobody really knows how you feel.
3. You've talked about this enough with people, they are sick of hearing about it.
4. You deserve this. You need a break. You'll start tomorrow.
5. It's not that big of a deal.
6. _______ doesn't struggle with this, so why should you?

On and on and on, right? I heard a woman in church say something awesome that immediately made me tear up because, she was reading my mind:
"As soon as God asks you to do something, Satan will work overtime to stop you from doing it."

Let me be clear. I believe there is light in this world, and if I believe that, then I have to believe that there is dark in this world. If I believe there is a God, I have to believe there is an enemy. And the enemy doesn't want you to succeed. If you succeed, you will be powerful. You will be closer to God and then darkness loses.

We know that Jesus Christ conquered death. So He has already conquered these lies for us. Yet, we still believe them.

Why do we believe them?

I am learning that it is easier to believe the lies. It is easier to settle. It is easier to do whatever we want. It is easier to believe that we are not worth it, that we were not made for more. It is easier to believe that we, at best, are...

Average.

It is hard for me to say no to cupcakes. It is hard for me to go to meetings where there is a bowl of M&Ms on our table and not eat them (this happened last week, and yes, I ate them). It is hard for me to watch tv at home and not want to snack for hours. It is hard for me to get up in the morning and put on my running shoes and work out. It is hard for me to say no to certain social situations where everyone else can eat whatever they want and not have it directly affect their heart and soul like it does for me.

But it is better.

You and I are not average. We are called to a greater purpose. But there is something that is in the way. Something that prevents us from fully becoming the person the God has made us to be. And when we start to face that thing, that's when we believe the lies and the battle gets serious. It gets serious, because it is truly a BATTLE for your heart and soul. When we lessen the seriousness of the struggle, we lessen our own value and self-worth and before you know it, here we are. Living a paltry version of the abundant life we were created for.

Haven't we been believing lies about ourselves for too long? What would happen if we started believing the truth?

You were made for more than this.

-Liz

I'm riding a rollercoaster. And not the metaphorical kind.

Tomorrow, world, is a freaking crazy day. Tomorrow is a day that I never thought I would see. Tomorrow is a dream, a nightmare, a challenge, and a victory.

Tomorrow...I am riding rollercoasters.

Our Y director team is taking a trip to Carowinds for the day, and I have been preparing for it for kind of my whole life. No big deal.

The last time I rode a rollercoaster of any kind was at Hershey Park. I was probably...15 or 16. I remember vividly being in one of those swing things and sitting in them, or should I say, stuffing myself in them. The writing was on the wall. I imagined those chains breaking and launching me in the atmosphere and never being able to get out of that tiny seat again. Needless to say, that was the last ride for me.

So here we go, 20 years later. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any anxiety about this, because I do. Will I fit? Will I get to the front of the long line and be turned away by a smug Carowinds employee? Will the people around me wonder if I'm going to fit, and will they hope that I won't sit anywhere near them?

When I was starting the weight loss stuff, "riding a rollercoaster" was at the top of my list as my far-away, reaching goal. Because as hard as it might be to believe, I never thought I would see the inside of an amusement park again. Tomorrow, that day has arrived.

Big things are happening. No pun intended.

-Liz

What keeps you running?

I remember, very clearly, being a student at Unionville High School and watching people run around the track and having anxiety like you would not believe. That oval has always been foreign to me. In fact, the entire world of athletes and sports and fitness seemed to be my natural enemy.

It's hard to explain what's been happening to me in terms of my relationship with working out. I have two women that I meet with regularly to talk about our weight struggles and victories. When we first started meeting, I didn't believe my friend Pam when she told me that "one day, you won't be dying to eat fast food like you are now." I didn't believe my trainer when she told me that "one day, you will crave working out like you crave junk food now."

I thought they were crazy. I was very wrong.

There is a shift that happens when you choose that you are worth saving. This shift happens when I said to myself "I deserve a life better than this cycle of eating crap secretly and using food to fill the places in my heart that only God can fill." Most of us don't believe we are worth the unconditional love that God is offering to us. So we try to find that love in things that ultimately let us down, leave us more broken than we started, and put us on a path of self-destruction.

That's what food has done for me, and it showed on my physically. How many of us have those things in our lives, but the evidence isn't as obvious?

Yesterday morning I got up and I ran 4 miles. This morning I got up and I ran 4 miles. Running has become my thinking spot. I truly see Jesus Himself running beside me and showing me the path ahead and reflecting on the path behind. We have come so far. We all have. And the allusions to life that I get while I am running are endless. Hills, valleys, weather, speed, distance, all of it.

The one thing that struck me today, though, is this: I am never going back to how I used to be. How could I ever forget the things that God has shown me? It's like seeing with perfect vision for the first time and then choosing to be blind again. Why would anyone do that? Yet, we all do that to God in certain times of our lives.

Challenge for the day: keep running. Stay in the race, knowing that Jesus is with you. He might be taking you somewhere unknown, but it is somewhere better.

-Liz

365 Days with the 335 pound woman

So, I stumbled across a blog the other day called "365 Days With The 335 Pound Woman." I was so excited because I thought it would be an encouraging read. Another great success story to keep me going. My first red flag when I stumbled upon it? She hadn't posted in over 4 months.

I will say, that if I don't post on this blog for months at a time, something has gone wrong. This blog has become more about accountability and encouragement than anything else. I can't tell you the amazing feedback I've gotten. Shedding light on this struggle has taken the power of the darkness away. I think we all deal with something in our lives that needs more light shed on it. Amen?

Anyway, back to the 335 pound woman.

Basically, she lost about 60 pounds over the course of the year. Then her life changed. She hated her job, fell into depression, and started gaining weight back. After gaining back 25 pounds, she thought to herself "If you're not careful, you are going to gain all the weight back."

And over the next few months, she did just that. She gained all the weight back and then some. Do I need to tell you how frightening her story is to me?

So I wrote her an email. I hope she writes me back. She has fallen off the grid and her silence is deafening to a community of readers that are hoping she makes it so that they can believe in themselves to make it, too.

I want to believe in the 335 pound woman and I don't even know her name. The crazy thing is, I never believed in my own 325 pound woman that started this journey back in October. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But the 335 pound woman's struggle is a reminder to me of one key thing:

THIS. IS. NEVER. OVER.

I can't get comfortable. I can't stop. I can't give up on myself on the days when this gets too hard. I can't eat whatever I want and use food to fill the hole in my heart that only God can fill.

THIS. IS. NEVER. OVER.

If you have a second, email that blog above. Remind the 335 pound woman that she can do it. Because whether we want to admit it or not, we cannot do it alone. Not now, not ever.

-Liz

The Road Less Traveled

I had a very interesting day. Two big things happened, and I can't tell which is more newsworthy.

Ok, so this first picture is of me with some of my high school friends doing some team building activities today. The notable thing in this picture is, however...my shorts.

I have had these shorts for a while. Mostly as a joke for skits about working out and wearing too-tight clothes. See, I could never wear shorts like this. And if I did. I couldn't move at all in them for fear of splitting my shorts. Most embarrassing moment.

But now, I can. This is a crazy thing to me. I have always worn LONG shorts. Boy shorts. Because they hide my legs. Now I am finding, all this working out is paying off and my legs look...tough. They are going to get tougher, but they are already taking shape. This is a crazy thing, my friends. To hide your body your whole life and then be ok to show off, even if it's just legs...this is victory. My joke about becoming more promiscuous as I lose weight just might not be a joke anymore.

Just kidding, Mom.

The other big thing that happened today? I ran 6 miles. Down this trail. The American Tobacco Trail. It can be boring, it can be monotonous. But for me today, it was a time for reflection with me and Jesus. As I was running, I was thinking about where I came from, what I have been doing to get where I am, and the things that I think now that I NEVER thought I would think.

Could I ever not sit on the couch and snack while watching tv? Could I ever stop going to food for comfort? Could I ever enjoy exercising and not just want it to be done? Could I ever see God in the midst of all of this?

It's amazing how God has taken me on a road that I never thought I would travel. I don't know when it happened, or when my heart changed, but things are moving from my head to my heart, and this is a victory.




It's time to travel down a new road.  Let's do it together. I'm really fun on road trips. Try me.

-Liz

Sometimes, you're just...done.

I am in a funk. And I am writing about it publicly. Because privately, too many of us struggle with the lows but publicly, we only declare the highs.

I am in a low. A serious low.

Today, I want to eat everything in sight. Today, I want to get a pizza from Salvio's and feel so full and satisfied and done. Today, I want to be done. Today I'm just...done.

This blog post doesn't have a happy ending or a revelation or an insight. This blog post is just a confession to remind me that the lows are still here. I have done so much and have gone so far, but today is a struggle. Today is a reminder that I am in a battle. There is something going on my mind that isn't reality, and there is a battle for me to believe that I am worth it and I can do this.

So what am I supposed to do? I have no idea. I think about the long-term future of this healthy eating thing and it makes me more exhausted than I can explain. I can't allow myself to think about that too much because it overwhelms me to where I want to quit.

So what am I going to do? I'm going to go to sleep pretty soon and pray that tomorrow will be a better day, that God would take away this funk I am in, and that I would find my joy again. This was a crappy post for me to write, but I hope that my honesty in this valley will encourage you to be honest when you're in your valley. Maybe you're already there. If so, you're right beside me, and I am whispering in your ear "This is temporary and we are going to find a way out."

-Liz

What are we hiding from?

I was just on myfitnesspal.com. It's a great website that tracks calories and exercises for you, and has lists of foods in and out of restaurants, etc. I have the app on my iphone and it has REALLY been a help.

ANWAYS...I was reading someone's blog post where they posted before and after pictures, in the mirror, of 33 pounds before and 33 pounds after. I was reading through all of the replies, the congratulations, etc. and there was one that REALLY got me. One woman replied to the photos by saying:

"Wow, I wish I had taken more before photos, but I was always trying to stay out of the picture."

Painful. Profound. Honest. It has me thinking the same thing. I never took before photos. I am still not taking photos. Why? I'm not scared to jump in a group photo. But I am scared of taking photos of my work in progress. Am I still trying to stay out of the picture?

Just a question of...what are we hiding from? Is it a person? Is it ourselves? Is it our potential? What are we afraid of?

I don't know the answers. I do know that, for me, sometimes it is painful to acknowledge change and be the center of attention. It's hard to take a compliment, and it's scary to find myself in a new reality. But it's the good kind of scary. Like a leap of faith. Like trusting someone. Like accepting love. Like accepting that someone loves me unconditionally.

I am losing weight because I am loved, not because I want to be loved. See the difference? After 35 years, I do.

-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

One week to see God?

It’s amazing how one week can change you. I left the US on December 26^th skeptical of religion and faith.  While I am no stranger to philanthropy and service trips, a mission trip was a completely different story.  When Dee asked me to come on the trip to Jamaica I was excited at the opportunity. She told me that it was a mission’s trip, so I should expect to pray. I was nervous but eventually decided that just because everyone else was praying didn’t mean I had to.

To say I was out of my comfort zone in the first two days of the trip would be a huge understatement.  I was an agnostic on a missions trip in a foreign country with a bunch of strangers…yeah that sounds about right.  The second night when Dee asked me how I was feeling I said I was on “Jesus overload”.  Even in the first two days I had been exposed to more prayer than I had in years.  I was skeptical of faith, and felt uncomfortable praying to a God I wasn’t sure existed with people who were so sure He did.

After hearing Jim and Penie’s passionate stories about how God had come through for them when they needed it most. After talking with other members of the team and the staff about faith and how drastically different their faith was to how I perceived faith.  After interacting with the children of Petersville and Gully Bank and seeing the joy in their faces as the pickup and van pulled up, or how proud they were when they got a math problem right. And after visiting the infirmary and hospital where patients asked me to pray for them, something was changing.  By the middle of the week I began to have a curiosity about God and Faith and by the end of the week caught myself praying with the group.

Something happened during that week that I cannot explain, so I won’t even attempt to.  I can’t claim that I am now a great Christian with an unwavering faith in God, because that would be a lie.  I can claim that, in all likelihood, I wouldn’t have any curiosity about faith if I hadn’t gone to Jamaica.  Maybe I’ve been feeling my life being pulled towards philanthropy and helping others because God’s at the other end of the rope. Who knows?

All I do know is that the week I spent in Jamaica was one of the most eye-opening and happiest weeks in my life.  The people of Jamaica stole my heart, and they impacted my life just as much as I hope in impacted theirs.  I hope I can keep my mind and my heart open to the possibility of God and faith back at home.

Until next time Jamaica, I know I’ll be back.

- Nicole (Nickels)

“What I do you cannot do; but what you do, I cannot do. The needs are great, and none of us ever do great things. But we can all do small things, with great love, and together we can do something wonderful.” – Mother Theresa