When God showed up.

Is it me that shows up, or is it God in me that shows up?

I would be remiss to not document the epic nature of this day. Remember, Thursday (two days ago) was round two of my steroid shots. And on Thursday (two days ago) I could barely stand. And here it is, Saturday. And this is what happened today:

I spent the morning with God. Like every morning in the past two weeks. This, in itself, has been an epic and essential part of my life. It's a joke that I try to maintain a relationship with God when I don't give Him any of my time. Anyone else in my life would have moved on by now. Some have. And who could blame them?

As I was writing in my journal this morning about my physical struggle, God put it in my heart to toss all my junk food out. All of it. So I did. Anything questionable in my house that was impeding my progress was purged. That was amazing.

God showed up.

Mid-morning I went down to NC State to have lunch with the Wizard. Now if you don't know her, you are really missing out. All the while, my leg feels stronger, my back felt loser, and my heart felt fuller. Yeah, fuller.

Do I dare try a workout? I did dare. And I was so...nervous. I have felt defeated, watching myself gain weight back and not be able to control it. Watching my progress turn to regress is heartbreaking. I got on the bike and started pedaling.

And then, God showed up again. In the form of my friend Nancy who works out at the Y frequently, walks with a cane, and never fails to smack my perspective back in line. I said a simple hello to Nancy, but what I really wanted to say is: "you INSPIRE me. Every single day that I see you, and I don't tell you that enough."

So I biked. And I did an upper body workout, and I have never, ever felt so grateful for my hands. And my feet. And the ability to walk. And strength. And progress and struggle and all points in between. Because amidst the peaks and valleys, no matter where I am, God shows up.

I know SO many of you prayed for my healing. I cannot thank you enough. I am overwhelmed with gratitude, and humbled by your love for me. Because of you, God showed up.

It's time for me to start showing up for God a little more.

-Liz

...the agony of defeat.

Over the 4th of July week, I went to Mexico to an all-inclusive resort. For some people, moderation relates to the unlimited alcohol you can get there. For me, moderation related to the unlimited food that I got there.

I haven't truly recovered since.

Getting back on track is so hard. SO hard. It's hard for me to come to terms with the scale. It hasn't dipped down to where it used to be. I am tired, I don't want to do the 60 minutes of cardio that I need to do. I don't want to eat well. I want to do...whatever I want.

Pride.

Since the rollercoaster ride was over, I tasted victory that made me feel like I was done with all this. I have gotten too comfortable in this new size so I am not going after losing weight like I need to. I have lost the sense of urgency, forgotten that this is the fight of my life, and ignored it.

Mistake.

Yesterday I pulled myself upstairs to work out. I got on the elliptical and decided to listen to sermons instead of music. I thought of Elevation Church in Charlotte because my friend Cameron goes there. I ended up listening to two random sermons by Steven Furtick.

The first one was about facing your fears (you can find it here). In the middle of it, the pastor said, and I quote (from memory, so it's truly paraphrased):

"Maybe you eat because you're happy, or you're sad. You're celebrating, or your mourning, you're lonely, or you're in community. Overeating is never about a lack of discipline, it's about the presence of fear. Fear is preventing you from living out the life that God has intended for you."

Why was this 30-something, thin pastor guy talking about overeating? Needless to say, I was on the elliptical CRYING. Sweating and crying. I figured it was ok since tears look like my sweat drops anyway. Whatever.

Then the 2nd sermon (you can find it here, try to ignore the cool guy soul patch vibe)...was based on only one verse: 1st Samuel 16:1 which says:

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you mourn for Saul, since I have rejected him as king over Israel? 

So the gist of his sermon is this: How long will you continue to mourn for what God has rejected?

How long will I continue to mourn for what God has rejected? For some of us, it's a bad relationship. For some of us, it's an addiction to anything - a person, a thing, a place, a time of life, a job, you name it.

For me, it's my reliance on food. And Furtick CALLS THAT ONE OUT specifically in his sermon! God spoke to me directly through my stupid iPhone podcast on the stupid elliptical. How long will I continue to mourn for Bojangles, for Ben and Jerry, for Krispy Kreme, for feeling painfully full and using food as my comfort? God has clearly rejected this in my life, I have just chosen to ignore Him.

So I went home and I erased my white board with my "# of pounds to next goal" written on it. I need to reset. I need to start over. I need to live today in victory, and that means letting go of the weight I gained back. I am trying to.

Maybe this is Phase 2. Or maybe it's Phase 32. I don't know. I just know that I have to roll with the punches and not give up. I have to move on, realize the seriousness of the battle, and let go of the past.

How long will YOU continue to mourn over something that God has rejected?

-Liz

Guilt is a great motivator.

I woke up this morning feeling super blah. This transition back into my daily life from Jamaica has been hard. An annoying reality for me is that the food and eating and weight part of it has been the hardest. All of a sudden, I am right back into the obsession of my body, my progress, my insecurity, my fear of failure.

It's funny how, when we're hurt, we think no one can ever understand. And because we feel that way, we decide to separate ourselves, pull away, and lock ourselves into this self-imposed prison of despair and unrealistic sadness.  So I start feeling guilty. I feel guilty about being so wrapped up in my problems, I feel guilty for not logging in my food journal last week, I feel guilty for eating that small piece of cake at Christmas dinner.

I feel guilty. And I am finding that guilt is a great motivator that I use against myself, and against others. But the way it bites you back, is that it makes you worse off than you were before.

When someone hurts me, do I make them feel guilty by withholding love from them in the hopes of teaching them a lesson? When someone doesn't call me back, do I make them feel guilty by withholding forgiveness from them? When I eat something I shouldn't, do I let that guilty feeling carry me through the rest of the day, since I already blew it that day? And since that day is ruined, why not take the week off? And before I know it, I am my own biggest critic. I have lost my identity and security. I have guilted myself into believing that I am not worth more.

I am worth more than this. And so are you. So let's all agree to stop letting guilt motivate us to hate ourselves and give up on ourselves. This stupid cycle has to stop.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come." - 2nd Corinthians 5:17.

YOU ARE NEW! I AM NEW! Every day, every decision, every second does not have to affect the next. Don't let it. Don't let the dark past ruin your bright future.

The old has gone, the new has come.

-Liz