Accepting you for you

Another great friend of ours, Cameron, who has been to Jamaica with us twice, and soon to be a third time, had these thoughts on his heart. It's his first time to publicly be so bold, which is a blessing for us because that kind of risk always means great reward. Enjoy!

I've never written a blog before so this is a little bit weird to me, but here it goes. Last night while on the phone with my good friends Liz and Dee I came to the realization that I am in fact my own person and I shouldn't live my life being compared to others. My whole life I've felt that I've always been compared to my two older brothers, whether I was being praised for being “better” than them or I was being put down for “failing” to live up to their lives. I know this seems absurd, but for me its something that has always loomed over me and caused a great deal of stress in my life. Whether its trying to do as well in them at school or just trying to act and look like them, I struggle with inadequacy and feeling of being inferior compared to them.

 However last night I realized that I am in fact my own person, and I shouldn't compare myself to them because I am in fact NOT them, and that I am being unfair to myself and ultimately selling myself short of the life God wants me to live. After all God made me “perfect” and in his image, so why should I ever feel inferior? Today I've really realized that everything I do I need to do to the best of my ability to praise God, but I have also realized that if I try my best and put forth everything I have I cannot fail in God's eyes, which makes me feel so much better about life in general. This may seem silly to you guys that something this small could have such a big impact on my life, but after this “come to Jesus” last night my life has been much easier for me to accept. One of the dangers that comes with comparing ourselves to others is that it will lead to envy and jealousy, which are both vile in God's eyes.

Romans 12: 6 says it all: “Let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be; without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't. If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else.” (The Message).

I hope this will help someone reading to realize that you are not what the world says you are, but what God says you are, and he says you are perfect, and redeemed, and that you are filled with the spirit of God.

-Cameron

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

An international confession

The following was written by one of our friends that came on our last Jamaica trip. It was his first time, and his honest account will hopefully encourage you to take a big chance, like he did. Enjoy!

It is almost the end of my time here in Jamaica, and I can truly say that I might come back a little different than when I left. I have experienced a lot of things – that - I’ve honestly heard about or seen through pictures for years now that I’ve never truly experienced. I have learned the difference between seeing something on a screen, and being so close that you can feel it.

Never before coming to Jamaica, could I smell the burning trash in the ghettos, or see the scars on kid’s arms, legs and chest, because of old metal sitting in their front yard. Never before have I seen such a small and crowded hospital that I had to squeeze by doctors and nurses -trying to help patients. Never before have I seen so many elderly people crammed into rooms, likely to stay there tired and forgotten. Never before have I been so lost for words that I was stuck frozen to the ground in terrible awe. Never before have I held the hand of a girl with no name, hospital sheet, or family around to be with her… Never before had I felt so helpless…

That was how I first saw Jamaica. We drove straight passed the fancy resorts and the tourist cities to the country torn in pain and despair; a sight seen by too few Americans. I regrettably admit, I saw no point in trying to help what I thought to be a lost cause. We have been here for a few days and I didn’t think we accomplished anything really. I felt our efforts were falling short, I lost my focus, and I felt defeated. In the morning we had time every day to read the bible or sit and talk with each other about how the previous day was, or what we wanted to accomplish that day. I found this time to be perfect to go to the roof, sit by myself, and just think away the hour until breakfast. I took about six days of my spirit being beaten and tired to the point of exhaustion that I finally found what I was looking for. It was not what I thought it would be at all.

I thought the reason why I was going on this trip was to help solve Jamaica’s problems - pure and simple. I now see how naïve I was to think I could instantly heal the wounds of years of turmoil in a just a few days of labor and prayer. This is my first mission trip and I knew nothing about what it really means to be a missionary, but I wanted to give it everything I had. Before this trip, my faith could be described as “shaky” at best, and one could call me agnostic without much fault.  It wasn’t until we went to a place called “Petersville” that I finally had my outlook changed.

Today wasn’t our first trip to Petersville, but it was definitely the most powerful. The first day there our only goal was to gain the people of Petersville’s trust. We carried gallons upon gallons of water from the only spigot located in the middle of the village to all houses spread out sporadically among the hills. Being a YMCA counselor for almost a third of my life made it easiest for me to bond with the kids of Petersville. I have never seen so many kids appear seemingly out of nowhere, just to see a bunch of white people equipped with only water jugs to carry and tennis balls to play with. Their positive attitude was really eye opening… How could these kids with nothing be so happy just to toss a ball with a stranger? This feeling filled the air and consequently lifted my spirit as well. It was in Petersville that I met Hubert, an 11 year old boy that I instantly connected to even through our language barrier. Ill spare you the details, but basically it took me three days of playing and teaching him math and reading that I finally got him to smile. It made me happy to know I had made my first friend in Jamaica.

I went home today and thought again of why I was here. I came to a much different conclusion that I did a few days earlier. I realized that I had looked at everything all wrong and gained a new perspective.

I now see that the awful smell of the burning trash was just their best way to get rid of waste without a trash system that comes to your house and empties your barrels for you. I now see that the cuts and bruises on the kids are just a mark of their determination to play even in such a harsh place, and never think about trying to grow up too fast. I admire that about them. I now see the honor in working as a doctor in such a crowded hospital and will never know the perseverance it must take to be there every day.  I now see that when I was so lost for words earlier this week in the old folks home that holding a women’s hand and sitting next to her in silence was the best thing I could have done. I now see that the girl in the hospital with no name at least had me around even if just for a few minutes to pray over her and just be there for her even if she wasn’t conscious. I now see that when I thought my heart was being torn open by such sad sights was actually the complete opposite. I now see that God was not tearing down my heart but opening it up to let in more love than ever before. I now know that what I was praying to find, finally revealed itself. I wasn’t helpless all along, but was helping the communities every day and in doing so, God was helping me.

I’ve learned a lot about myself, and about the world thanks to this trip. I finally learned the meaning of “one love”. I’ve learned to believe someone when they look you in the eye and say “please”. I’ve learned that giving something away feels a million times better than receiving it. I’ve learned all the things my grandpa used to tell me all the time, was and still is true. I understand the true meaning of “money can’t buy you happiness.” What they really mean is that everybody can afford to happy. I’ve learned you can find out what the “TRUTH IS”, a lot easier if you search within yourself, than if you try to find it on facebook. I’ll never forget where I came from, and I now have a clearer sight of where I wanna go… I love Jamaica... I love the team I’m here with, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

The connection between weight loss and hope

Where have I been?

I haven't posted in a while. I haven't had a life changing AHA moment to share with the world. I also haven't been in a deep valley. I have been right in the middle.

The middle...is a scary place. When I think all is well, and there is no struggle, and things are coasting along, I tend to give up. Not because I mean to, but because I forget. I forget that for me, the weight loss thing is a battle. And if I lose the battle, I lose hope.

This week, a project I have been working on for months and months now, has moved on. Our Jamaica container truck came, and today it drove off filled to the brim with boxes and bins and mattresses and bikes that we have been collecting and praying over for almost a year now.

So now what? My project is over, so what do I do? It may sound weird, but part of me lost - hope. Part of me thought, "well, back to my old life now." But the old life is not an option for me anymore. I gave away all my clothes to Goodwill. I wear smaller pants. I eat differently. I work out. But all of that wouldn't matter if I didn't believe in myself and believe more in the NEW life.

In a sense, watching Jim and Penie Koch drive that Penske truck away made me think about all of my own baggage and what I choose to hold onto versus what I know I have to leave behind. At the end of my life, what will I care to hold onto? What will matter the most? Even more specifically, at the end of my day today, will I really care that I didn't get to eat that brownie that everyone else enjoyed last night? Will I really miss out on the double helping of lasagna that I skipped?

Nope. And that, to me, is hope. I am able to see past a temporary pain for a permanent future. And so we continue - to hope. And unlike food, hope does NOT disappoint.

-Liz

THIS...is your American Idol.

I'm reading a book called "Gospel" by JD Greear. It's a great book, and I'm not surprised by how much it's teaching me about the power of the Gospel. I am surprised, however, with how much it's teaching me about the power of food.

The chapter I just read was about idols. An idol is something you worship, we all know that probably. But what we don't know, is what it means to actually worship something in practical terms. For instance, do you know how to identify idols in your life? Here is the "Idolatry-Detector" Test and how I realized that food is, absolutely, my idol. Fill in the answers:

1. What one thing do you most hope is in your future? What is it that, without it, life would hardly seem worth living? (Mexican food. No, seriously, I used to be right there.)
2. What is one thing you worry most about losing? What one thing could you just absolutely not get along without? (Again, El Dorado. No, I really, REALLY, miss it.)
3. If you could change one thing about yourself right now, what would it be? (Whatever you come up with, you probably want to change that thing because you think that if you did you'd be so much happier. For instance, if I lose 100 pounds and the only thing I've learned is that I need smaller pants, I'm in big trouble.)
4. When do you feel the most significant? (The answer for me is - when people love and accept me...and because I will never reach a 100% approval rating, I have used food to keep everyone else at a distance. See the power struggle?)
5. Where do you turn for comfort when things are not going well? (Ummmm...duh.)

These are a few of the determining factors when it comes to idols in your life. Is food our American Idol? It sure seems like it. Arby's advertises "Good Mood Food." Cracker Barrel advertises "Comfort Food." What is the one room in the house that people tend to gather? The kitchen. We use food to comfort us and put us in a good mood, when all it is doing is stuffing down emotions that need to be dealt with. Food lasts for that ten seconds of flavor, and leaves us with an emptiness for life.

Why are we so outwardly focused? Why are we obsessed with how we look on the outside that we don't spend nearly enough time on the inside? I would challenge all of us to identify our idols. Is it a relationship? Is it a sports team? Is it your job? What is one thing that, if it was taken away from you, would devastate you beyond repair? What is your foundation?

Whatever it is...is God better?

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” - Matthew 7

How did I reward my fifty pound weight loss?

By going out for wings.

No, I am not kidding. Is it sort of like an alcoholic celebrating sobriety by having a beer? Yes. BUT...here's where I know things are different for those of us with food issues: an alcoholic can stay away from alcohol. A drug addict can stay away from drugs. A gambler can stay out of casinos. An addictive relationship can be avoided by simply avoiding that person.

What are those of us with eating issues supposed to do?

Where I live, there is fast food everywhere and I mean EVERYWHERE. The first few weeks of my weight loss journey, I took a different route home from work so I could avoid passing my old favorite foods. They make it so easy. I mean, I don't even need to get out of my car to get what I love. If that's not enabling, I don't know what is.

I could confess my wing night dinner with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience. Or, I could be honest and tell you...having that cheat meal felt REALLY great. Yes, my friends were fun, and the wings were amazing (Rudy's has the best wings in the Triangle, hands down). More importantly though, when I left the restaurant, I knew that was a cheat meal, and that's it. I left it there, and I didn't think "oh, here comes the backsliding and I'm about to gain all the weight back that I lost."

See, a few weeks ago, my mental state was "if I cheat, it's over. If I even taste a Big Mac I'll gain all the weight back and then some. Don't mess up. Ever." Last night, I can honestly say that my mind has finally shifted to "I made a poor food choice, but it's ok. Tomorrow is a new day, and I AM NEW!"

So today, I got up. And I ran 3 miles. And I sat in the sauna with my friends and sweated out that wing sauce. And then I went about my day.

And THAT, my friends, is a big deal.

-Liz

Fifty Pounds in Four Months!

I have dreamed about being able to say this. I have wished that one day, I could share this. I have worked really hard to confidently state this sentence...
I have lost 52 pounds in four months.

How many weeks has it been since September 13th? How many calories counted, miles ran, hours on the treadmill, bicep curls, flights of stairs with my trainer beside me, Luna bars, bananas, Nalgenes, journal entries, prayers for patience? How many questions for God? How many coffee conversations with women that have gone before me? How many tears along the way? How many doubts? A lot.

My purpose for this blog is not to brag, although, this is the best thing I can ever brag about. My purpose for THIS blog is to tell you (even though you hear this from other people and don't believe it) that if I can do it, you can DEFINITELY do it.

Whatever "it" is. For most of us, it's weight loss. For ALL of us, it's believing that we are worth fighting for, and that we have a Saviour that wants to save us from ourselves. I am so glad that I can tell you that I have lost 50 pounds. Holy crap. But I am filled with joy to be able to tell you that what I am gaining, is worth FAR MORE than what I am losing.

Amen.

-Liz