Six Degrees of Separation, Part 3 - Facebook Friends and a Can of Pringles

Days and months past and I was still painfully unemployed. But I put my faith in God that He would take care of me while I paddled urgently to stay afloat. He sustained me indeed. My needs were met and occasionally He would even take care of my 'wants' as well!

I was blessed to spend the summer with my son. Since I wasn't working I didn't have to worry about day care or summer camp. But I did have to come up with some kind way to keep him occupied. In the past it was nothing for us to just pack a little bag and head off somewhere fun. We called it "Going on an Adventure". Without money, however those fun adventures were hard pressed to make it out of our driveway. And then, what I can only assume was God pressing on His people to reach out to us, opportunities for some recreation started to show up! A family in my church, The Deatons, invited Matthew and I to come stay for a night or two on their annual, family camping trip. We joined them and it was an awesome vacation of camping, swimming, eating and line-dancing! I hadn't been on a 'family vacation' in many, many years and it was so refreshing. Not only to be somewhere other than our tiny, little town but to be somewhere with friends. I couldn't have planned a better "adventure" if I had a bank account stuffed to the gills with money! The blessing was in the fellowship and growing a friendship that already meant a great deal to me. (And if you wanted to see a little 'six degrees' link between the Deatons and me... Her grandfather was a brother to my mom's sister's husband's dad. I think. And that makes us some kind of cousins, twice removed!) So I went along on the family vacation with actual family! Small world? Or Divine Design?! You be the judge!

Because I had some time on my hands, one of the church deacons, Jim McBryde and I went to visit the elderly father of one of our members who had fallen and broken his hip. He was staying in an assisted living center. While having lunch, out of the blue Jim said to me, "You and Matthew are welcomed to use my little place at the beach if you'd like." We weren't talking about vacations or the beach or going anywhere at all. I have to assume that it just popped into his mind to offer. "I didn't know you had a beach place Jim! And how soon can we have it!" I laughed. I was so excited knowing that if I could just scrape up some gas money and some food we'd be beach bound in a matter of days! How kind of Jim to offer and how gracious the Lord was to press on my friend in that way. The generosity didn't stop there...

I am an open book. You can rest assured if I'm going through something - good or bad - I am going to put it all out there. Rarely do I hold anything back. I'm a self-proclaimed Drama Queen. I can make stumping my toe the biggest thing since the OJ Trial! I'm a story-teller (hello dear reader of this very blog post!) and I've never met a stranger. Because of these things, I think that Facebook is absolutely made for people like me! I'll 'update my status' because, you know, I think the world is on pins and needles wondering what I'm about to do next! Everyone very definitely cares that I'm at the grocery store or watching Dancing with the Stars... right? Not a day passed by during my 'season of unemployment' that I didn't update my Facebook Status. I praised God with my posts, I asked for prayers on my wall, I sought encouragement from my 'friends list'. I even took opportunitites to talk to others on Facebook about Jesus and salvation. I tried to encourage people who were down and I prayed for people when I was asked. And probably the most important thing I did was develop certain friendships with a small group of people from my past. Melanie made me laugh and reminded me to remember my "Westside Roots"... who ain't scared of nothin! Heather blessed me with her beautiful photographs and sent me pictures of rainbows. Andrea prayed for me and sent me emails full of encouragement and hope. Toni reminded me by her daily posts that I needed to read my Bible and spend time in the presence of God everyday.

And then there was Shelly. Oh, my beautiful friend Shelly. She cheered for me, she prayed for me like a warrior. She pulled for me the likes I've never seen and she encouraged me daily. I took some real knocks over the summer - big disappointments over lost opportunities (or no opportunities, for that matter) but she reminded me that nothing I was going through was out of God's control. She kept me focused, tightened my blinders so I could look at nothing but The One - my God, my Shelter from the storm, my Shield in the face of danger. She pressed into me that I was favored by God and the blessings were all around me. Because of the way Shelly saw things, I started to look at things differently. She never let me feel sorry for myself yet validated the way I was feeling. She loved me. But more importantly she reminded me that Jesus loved me and that He would never leave me or forsake me. And I loved her too. God gave me her as a spiritual motivation coach for this trial of mine. I had no idea that while growing up in that tiny little private school more than 25 years ago that Shelly would be the friend she's been to me. We knew of each other "back in the day" but we were from two different worlds completely. God Himself narrowed the very wide gap between us to form a bond that will last me the rest of my life! I found a real blessing in that time of struggle - friends.

It is true that God can and will use any situation, any person, any vehicle to do His will. Dare I say it, He'll also use Facebook. I felt surrounded by 'friends' even though I was sitting alone in my living room. Isolation is a dangerous thing. I know - I've been there but at least with Facebook if I didn't post something for 24 hours someone would always pop up to check on me! What I didn't realize at the time was that because I shared every up and every down and praised God for all of it was that people seemed to be getting something from my tales. Almost like giving your testimony as it was taking place. Someone I've never even had a conversation with would post up on my wall how blessed they feel by my posts. People would send me messages asking me to pray for them. What was that all about?! I was becoming a Prayer Warrior for others - and that took the focus off myself and my piddly little unemployment problem! I've been called "uplifting", "positive", "strong and courageous" and my favorite was "Barnabas - the Encourager". It motivated me. It nudged me to press on. It was a reminder that what I said and how I lived reflected Jesus. I had to "practice what I preached", I was a light - whether it was a good light or a bad light was up to me! My Christian walk was fully on display, people were watching and I just didn't want to let God down.

Meanwhile, because my story had "blessed her", she said, I got a card in the mail one day from my friend Andrea. Inside was a Walmart gift card with enough money on it to buy Gas for my beach trip! (Blessing!) I had some food in the house so Matthew and I were good to go! I was excited about the trip because Shelly and her family were also going to the same beach on the same week! They invited us to come over for game night or maybe out to eat one night. Another "family vacation" adventure! Coincidence? Hardly! It was all taken care of...the place to stay, the gas money and the food. Even entertainment was offered up by Shelly and her family. There was zero spending money but I was determined to make it work.

A few days before we were to head out, Matthew had a performance for the Gaston Baptist Association Choir Camp that he'd participated in - (thanks to my church sponsoring him to go... blessing!) Shelly, her mom and kids came to support him. As we were all leaving she and her mom both handed me cards. There was money inside! Spending money for the beach, they called it, because I had been a blessing to them. My heart lifted. And a warm feeling washed over me. I knew that God had heard my prayers and He answered them by urging His people to show some love in action by meeting a practical need. I'm sure Shelly or her precious mom never meant to have their generosity put on display ... but there was never enough words to properly thank them. So I would like to use Shelly and her mom and family as an example in the spirit of doing unto others. They didn't expect to be paid back and they didn't want anything in return. They helped me because God commanded them to. Matthew and I made it to the beach and we had a great time. We had some spending money too which made it easier. And I was able to pay my bills with the rest when I got home. And I hope one day to return the favor by extending myself to someone the way they extended themselves to me.

I spent time everyday looking for a job and sendig out my resume. And for the rest of the summer Matthew and I spent our time hanging out on other's family vacations, using our Carowinds seasons passes or swimming out at the Bessemer City Pool. I didn't realize it at the time but I was onto something when, thanks to a 'random' trivia contest, I won some snacks at the pool and used my Facebook Status Update to thank God for the Blessing. That Sunday morning the pastor used the "Finding Blessings in a Can of Pringles" example during his sermon. He had started a series on The Sermon On The Mount and talked about having a "Paradigm Shift" ... a fundamental change in one's way of thinking. I had had that shift. I started to see everything I had or would ever have as a gift from my Heavenly Father. And suddenly my faith grew stronger. Yes He will provide. Even potato chips.

To Be Continued.....

Six Degrees of Separation - Part Two

So things didn't pan out with The Salvation Army and my Season of Unemployment rolled on. Despite my disappointment, I did figure out that I really wanted to work in some sort of ministry, working with people in need. I wanted to be "Love In Action", meeting spiritual needs as well as practical needs. I wanted to be the feet of Jesus, going and telling anyone who would listen about the Great Hope I had found in my Lord and Savior! I was excited about the possibilities and I was in great spirits. I looked for jobs in local churches and I applied for several different positions within the Billy Graham Evangelical Association, BG Library and Operation Christmas Child with Samaritan's Purse. I felt like I had God squarely in my corner on this one and surely, SURELY He would open the door for me to go to work for Him! And then it happened!! A great big nothing. Nothing but chirping crickets in the silence.

I didn't get it. Why would He pierce my heart with the great needs of the people right here in my own community but not furnish me with the things I needed to help them. Not only that but I was coming closer and closer to becoming one of 'them'. I wasn't worried but I was becoming frustrated. Every door I tried to open was all but welded closed, barred with steel and a big dresser pushed in front of it. I mean it was nothing doing by way of jobs. The bills piled up and the spirits slowly slunk downward. And then out of the blue my sweet Sunday School teacher would send me a message to cheer up and to urge me to be patient. She was so wise and taught me so much this past summer. And she prayed for me. And I felt her prayers.

Thanks to Matthew 6:34 I didn't worry and thanks to Mrs. Katherine I had patience. But there was still the matter of paying the bills. I wouldn't say that I was under a terrible financial strain, as I lived pretty modestly to start with. However, when there's zero money week after week after week paying even the smallest bill proved challenging. But then I started to notice a pattern. Every time I got right up to the very edge of going over the edge and plunging into financial doom (which was really big and dramtic words for "Duke Power Might Turn Off The Lights") money or opportunity to get money would pop up. Just like Manna from Heaven to the wandering Jews, seemingly from nowhere and right on time - every time - my need would be met! As odd as it must've sounded, I literally prayed to God... "God, I know you can do anything big or small and I have faith that You will not leave me or forsake me out here in this desert of my own. So I'm asking You, God, to help me get my car payment together. Amen."

To make ends meet, I picked up some hours as a relief tech at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic, I babysat for working folks, I sold some of my antiques (to someone who sent me the money and then decided she didn't need the antiques afterall and for me to just keep the money!) Mom was a winner in a class action lawsuit from 10 years earlier that she didn't even remember being a part of. That check paid the bills that month! My mailbox became a source of blessings as nearly weekly someone would send me a "random" gift card to somewhere or a check for something odd like "Happy 4th of July! Here's some money!" And I paid the bills. A little here, a little there, rarely on time but they were getting paid.

After spending a couple 3rd Tuesdays over at the CRO I really started to have a heart for the people in need. Matthew and I once stopped at a red light where a seemingly homeless man was holding his crude, cardboard sign announcing that he would work for food. I rolled down the window and gave him every dime I had. It equaled less than a dollar in change. It didn't cost me much at all but I was blessed beyond measure when my son - an only child, wants for nothing, well fed and dressed and dare I say spoiled, spoiled rotten, in fact - was moved to tears by the mans plight. He questioned me all the way home about the man. Where would he sleep? Where was his family? What would he eat? Where does he use the bathroom? By the time we got home my son was nearly pleading with me to go back and get the man. Since he didn't have a home, Matthew suggested letting him live with us. That "chance encounter" with the homeless man ignited something in my son and from that day to this he looks out for the homeless and anyone down on their luck. At his urging, I handed dollars to the intersection people with cardboard signs, we gave cold water to streetwalkers and we even took a meal to a man living in a Station Wagon outside the local Walmart. And the blessing was clearly, always mine as I got to see my son's big 'ole heart!

Matthew 6:2-4 says “So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." So I'm a little hesitant to say "hey, look what we did". Of course I'm sitting here writing about it, not so sure I should be... But, anyway, I found the more I reached out to people the more I wanted to. I was excited about the response a bottle of cold water from a stanger would get from a person who'd probably been walking in the heat all day long and I never missed an opportunity to tell someone that Jesus loved them. I was flat broke but I had genuine joy in my heart! And I wasn't worried about a thing!

It was during that time that the Nominating Committee at my church came together to nominate the members of the different committees (yes, it's a Baptist Church and that's just how we roll!) The church had put together a new outreach committee and asked me to be on it. Someone said I would be 'perfect' for the committee - I have to assume that's because I was so vocal about wanting to help the homeless. The vision for the committee was to work alongside the missions committees specifically to meet the needs of the Tuckaseege community. It would also serve as a "welcome committee" for visitors. Simply put, we were going to be helping the needy, both spiritually and physically in our community and I was going to be on a team!! God blessed me with a team of people to help me help others! Random occurence? No way! But how crazy was it that I found myself as the head of an Outreach committee in a Baptist church. Yes, God will and does use ANYONE to carry out His plan!

In my Six Degrees time-line there's a few more degrees to go! But for now I'm calling it a night...Thank you for reading! To be continued!

Six Degrees Of Separation - By the Grace of God

My pastor is going to think I ripped him off. Just last night at the Wednesday night prayer service he was talking about how there's no coincidences in God's world. He brought up the Six Degrees of Separation theory and lead us through a story from Point A to Point B by telling about a "chance meeting" in a coffee shop a few months ago, and how it has culminated into a woman being baptized at our church this coming Sunday. From a gift card for the local coffee shop to someone publically declaring their faith in Jesus Christ, everything lined up in just such a way that there's no doubt in a believer's mind that God was the Master behind the plan. And because Christians are really one as the Body of Christ, we are all intricately intertwined, lovingly and surprisingly woven together in a beautiful pattern of God's perfectness. Not a single stitch is out of place, not one mistake, no accidents, no coinsidences. There is a divine reason behind every happening, every event, every minor little detail. God worked it out before the beginning of time. The fun part is looking back and connecting the dots! I'm going to write tonight about my "Six Degrees of Separation" but first let me tell you why I'm not my pastor's copy-cat...

A couple days ago I sat down to write in the blog. It was a forced effort. I'm not sure why I try so hard because if I'm writing for writing's sake nothing good (at least nothing I think is good) will come of it. But I knocked out a little post about some numbskull athiest whose Whack-a-Doodle website I happened to stumble over. I didn't start out with a plan to write about that guy but I got off course and slapped few random sentences together about him and his lost soul and called it a blog post. You can see it for yourself if you scroll down from here... What you can't see about that blog post was all the stuff I had written and deleted. I had written the words "Six Degrees Of Separation By The Grace Of God" and then started to lay out my path from Point A to Point B, etc. But I had gotten so sideways over the crazy athiest that I figured I'd scratch the Six Degrees idea and just start over at some point when I actually felt like writing. And maybe I could get some thoughts together to put out something that I at least liked. I wasn't so sure that "Six Degrees" was the right way to describe God's blessings being poured out on me. (And sometimes I fret so much over what to write about that I go forever and not write a single thing...)

So I went to church last night. And wouldn't you know it, my Pastor - God's man for the job as the leader at my church - started out by saying to the congregation, "I had something else prepared for tonight but the Holy Spirit has put something different on me to talk about". That's a sentence in itself that will get your attention! Then he started talking about Psalm 46:10, "Be Still and Know..." and seeing God's blessings in every little detail of our lives. When all of a sudden there it was! The old Six Degrees of Separation example! It was like the pastor read the deleted stuff in my jumbled up and confused blog ramblings! Even more exciting to me was that his "chain of events" included me and both of our "chains" ended at the same place... Part of his I knew about, part of it I didn't. Some of my missing links were unearthed and the mystery solved. God's plans are interesting and fun and always perfect! Make no mistake, even last night's impromptu sermon and subsequently this very blog post was penned out even before the beginning of time! Perhaps the pastor didn't stand up and start talking with "answering my un-asked questions" anywhere in his mind, but as far as I was concerned The Holy Spirit used him to tell me that my use of a pop-culture catch-phrase to describe God working in my life was just fine! Coincidence? I think not.

This past March I found myself unemployed. I figured I'd spend a week, maybe two looking for a job and would probably get hired on at a Veterinary Hospital somewhere. In this ridiculous economy and double-digit unemployment that just wasn't the case. I had my tax-refund money but that was gone in no time. Thankfully I was getting enough child support to pay the rent and the car insurance but there was no money left after paying those two bills. I applied for unemployment and was denyed. I stayed up late and got up early scouring the job-sites looking for listings. I sent my resumes to a million places and I heard from none of them. It was eerily quiet as I wouldn't even get a rejection letter. It didn't take me long at all to realize that my situation was dire. There was simply no money. And I was scared.

As if my Christianity matured right on schedule, I knew enough by then to turn to God. I got on my knees and prayed, laying my burdens down at His feet. I read my Bible everyday and spent time studying His words. Nearly "on-cue" He would send me a Bible verse or pop a song in my head that would soothe my worried mind. I lived on Matthew 6:25-34 which talks about God meeting our every need - food, shelter and clothing. The passage ends by saying "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Everyday I read those words and despite the bills getting further and further behind I managed to stop worrying. Sometimes I had to rob Peter to pay Paul but by the Grace of God my lights stayed on!

Since my phone wasn't blowing up from potential employers ready to throw contracts at me, while Matthew was in school I started spending more time with some of my church people. My Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Katherine, invited me to help stock the shelves at the CRO - our town's local food bank. She and her husband volunteered there the 3rd Tuesday of every month. I went, frankly, because I had nothing better to do that day but God had a more important reason for me to be there. He needed me to see real needs and I was made aware almost right away that my situation wasn't nearly as "dire" as I first thought. There was a line out the door of people who had no food, no diapers for babies, no toilet paper. They stood for hours to walk out with a couple small boxes of dented canned goods, Government issued peanut butter and meat donated from the Food Lion. I noted the irony of sending out a box of Hamburger Helper to someone who may very well have no hamburger. Oh, how sad a day that was. I was burdened and I wanted to help. I didn't have money but I had connections to voluteers. I managed to work there several 3rd Tuesdays during my time of unemployment. And I was blessed by the experience because He softened my heart for people in need.

Sometime back in the Spring a new couple showed up in our Sunday School class. They had recently attended a funeral that was officiated by our pastor. "As luck would have it" the man - a rugged auto-body shop owner and our pastor - who, before getting the Call, used to work as a claims adjuster for a car insurance company, knew each other from their prospective lines of work. Small world, it would seem. When the pastor saw the body shop guy at the funeral he invited them to our church. They attended Sunday School for few weeks and didn't say much, if anything at all. Until one Sunday we were talking about how we'd volunteered at the CRO and how great the need was. And the lady said, "We do a a lot of mission work at my job we end every letter or email with 'From God's heart to man's hands'" (or something very close to that). I liked the sound of that. I liked it a lot.

After Sunday school that morning I caught the lady in the hallway and officially introduced myself. I asked her where she worked and before she had time to answer I also asked if they were hiring?! "Salvation Army", she said. "And we just hired someone", she continued. I laughed and told her that was the story of my life but asked if I could send my resume to her. "Maybe you could get it into the right hands", I continued. "I feel like I want to work in that sort of mission field", I said. And then she told me she was the head of HR at Salvation Army and that her hands were the 'right hands'! She wanted my resume! I praised the Lord all the way home from church and promptly emailed my stuff! She emailed back saying she'd received my resume and ...insert generic form letter type rejection here... Disappointed but not worried. And the blessing was mine because I realized that God had placed important people, workers for Christ and His kingdom, at the table right across from me!

That following Sunday marked Matthew's and my 1 year anniversary of coming to Tuckaseege Baptist Church. I knew because Vacation Bible School was about to start and it was VBS that got us there to begin with. "Just so happened" that showing up in church that first Sunday a year earlier had changed my life in ways I'd never dreamed of! I was so passionate about it that I asked the pastor if I could get up that Sunday and speak to the congregaton about it. "My Testimony", I guess. He agreed.

I'm not sure why I was so nervous, I've stood in front of many, many more people than our church crowd and spoke but that morning my voice quivered, my legs wobbled and it took me a second to get myself together. I wanted the church to know just how much it meant to me but more importantly, I wanted to make sure that I gave Glory to God in every word I spoke! So I took a breath and started to speak. I told a little of my childhood - growing up in a Christian, private school but missing out on actual church. I told about my priorities being on partying at an early age and never really having a game plan or any sort of direction. And I talked about God protecting me when I wasn't taking care of myself and I talked about God loving me - when I was most unlovable. I started to notice some of the women in the congregation were teary-eyed and reaching for tissues in their purses. My voice cracked and I had to pause when I started to talk about my dad passing away and how lonely I was. And how after years of isolation I considered many of them my friends. And I thanked them for the love they'd shown my beloved son.

By then all the ladies seemed to be crying and I even noticed some of the men were a little red in the face. I'm not sure what I was saying that was having that effect on the people but I had to stop making eye contact after I saw tears rolling down the face of the worship pastor! And then 'something' came over me and I went completely off my prepared 'script' and talked about finding Jesus, being saved and how God was in the place! The normally mostly-quiet and conservative congregtion started clapping and 'amening' and I wrapped up my thing and sat down. I was physically shaking. "Mission Accomplished", I thought and was satisfied that I seemed to impress upon the people the importance of Vacation Bible School. After church I went home and didn't give it much more thought but I was blessed by the experience - to stand up and speak before the Body of Christ in the house of God. He had given me this "gift of gab" and I was finally able to use it for Him.

The following Sunday the Salvation Army lady grabbed me as I was walking out of church. She told me the Monday following my tear-fest testimony that she went into her boss's office and said "we NEED to hire this girl!" Evidently I made her manly, auto-body shop guy shed some tears as well with my sad story and she figured if I could do that then surely I'd be good at the Salvation Army! I wasn't completely sure of her logic but I didn't care! I figured I was all but hired!! And even better, God Himself was going to have a hand in this hiring process!! In my mind He'd given me the words to speak to move the body shop guy enough so that the Salvation Army lady could see that I'm somehow good with people! (Six degrees, right?!) How marvelous an opportunity to work and be of service to people in real need. I was so excited! The lady tried and tried to find a place for me but there was simply no money in the budget to hire another person. And I was horribly disappointed. Sad and confused even. But still not worried...

To Be Continued.....

Crazy What Google Will Get Ya

Last night I was tooling around in Google and ran across some rantings by some crazy Atheist (I'm assuming) comfortable posting something called "God Is Imaginary - 50 Simple Proofs". I read a few of the '50 proofs', mainly because I was curious to hear the opinions from the "other side". The guy (or lady, not sure which) made a few points. And I can see why at times it's so hard for some people to wrap their minds around God the "concept". If you've never been to church, never read the Bible, never heard of God (from a Christian point of view) the story itself might sound a little unreal, magical or fantasy-like. And what we as Christians hold dear as the "Word of God" to some is just an old book written by man and without any significant meaning. But for me, that's where faith comes in. (And the writer even said..."by now you're saying - 'but that's where faith comes in'".) Well, yes. Faith indeed. Faith and if the Holy Spirit comes over you there's nothing you can do to stop it! I don't think in a full-on theological debate that I could go toe to toe with that writer. (Although I know people who could). He seemed studied, intellegent and passionate about his beliefs. All I know for sure is that I KNOW THAT I KNOW THAT I KNOW. I believe that the Bible really is the Word of God - and I believe that it's 100% true! I believe that because John 3:16 told me so that because I believed in God's one and only begotten Son that I will not perish but will have eternal life. And I have unwaivering faith that God will do exactly what He said He would do. Would that be enough of an answer for that highly educated yet in my opinion sorely mistaken knucklehead? Probably not. Is it enough for me? YES!


I think it's a shame that someone could Google "God" and run across that kind of article. But I am a fan of free-speech and freedom of the press (although "press" is a stretch). I can't have it both ways. I certainly don't intend for my blog posts to lead you to some blatent non-believer's website... but I brought it up for specifically Proof #9, "Understand Ambiguity". In regards to answered prayers, the writer says, "All scientific evidence clearly indicates that it is, in fact, a coincidence. Whenever we do a scientific experiment on the efficacy of prayer, the data shows no effect from prayer. Scientific evidence indicates that "answered prayers" really are coincidences every single time." To that I say "What?"


Keeping these next few blog posts in line with my surviving unemployment, this past summer in particular, I prayed and God answered every, single time. He may not have blessed me with a financial windfall or a winning lottery ticket may not have blown up on my doorstep from a mysterious wind but rest assured, my prayers were answered. My needs were met. Things lined up in my life in such a way that there was no mistaking God at work. I can see it as clearly as I'm sitting here right now. It wasn't a coincidence that 4 years ago I moved into this neighborhood that I'm living now, met a TBC church member that lived a few doors down who was burdened to invite my son and me to her church. After weeks and months of urging, I finally made it to church and it happened at just the right time in my life. A few weeks earlier and I wouldn't have been all that opened to the whispers of the Holy Spirit.


"As luck would have it", shortly before that, I had just been in the hospital with Pneumonia. My neighbor brought me up to her Sunday School class and they prayed for me. I didn't know about it at the time. All I know was that on a Sunday I was in the hospital feeling like I was dying, getting fluids and breathing treatments and the next day I felt fine and was able to start work at a new job. The following Sunday I landed - through a random series of circumstances - at Tuckaseege Baptist Church. A lady came up to me to welcome me, she introduced herself and I told her my name. She said "We prayed for you last Sunday. You had pneumonia and needed to get well to start a new job". I was a little befuddled. How did this lady know any of that, and moreso, why did they pray for me? But nevermind all of that! I was prayed for and seemingly healed! "Well it worked!", I responded. And then the warm and fuzzies washed over me, chills, blessed assurance, Holy Spirit ... whatever you want to call it. It was that feeling you get when you know that you know! I don't know of any "Scientific Experiment" that I could use to test that answered prayer... nor do I need to. Before that weekend no one was praying for me. And I certainly wasn't praying for myself. After that week and ever since I've been a "Prayer Warrior", praying for myself, the needs of others and taking all kinds of requests to God. And dare I say they've all been answered. Maybe not as I'd hoped or expected but rest assured, they were all answered. I'm no expert, but I'm certain that my prayers have been answered.



Everything above this sentence I wrote earlier today. I think I got off course a little. The more I drove around running errands thinking about what to write next the more this Athiest Writer was getting on my nerves. Not because he doesn't have the right to believe whatever he wants to believe, and even spout it to whoever will listen. But he was arrogant, scientific and cold. I feel sorry for the guy ... and I'm compelled to pray for him even though he might fault me for that. But other than that I don't want to give anymore of my space to that guy. He'll have to stand before God one day and explain himself. And he will bow before God and confess that Christ is Lord. I hope he gets it before that day.

There's A BIG Responsibility In Being Blessed

I've had a thought on my mind a lot lately...

"There's a big responsibility in being blessed". That could mean a lot of things like 'Pay it Forward' or 'It's better to give than receive'. But right now for me, I think, it means that because I have received blessing after blessing from my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, it is my responsibility to boldly announce it and to give Him all the praise and glory! And so, if I may, I'd like to tell you now about this past Spring and Summer, the "season of my unemployment" and the great and wonderful things my God taught me and did for me during that time. Several times during my unemployment from March to October (which I will just refer to as "the summer") people asked me, "How are you making it?" and my favorite, "I want to know your secret. How are you doing all that you're doing and you don't even have a job?" My "secret" was a simple one... Jesus.

I don't really think I can tell this story of being blessed beyond measure without telling the 'whole' story. I want you, my dear reader, at the end of this blog post to come to no other conclusion but that God Himself provided for my every need. I don't want you to believe for a minute that it was dumb luck, coinsidence, or some random act of kindness. It was straight up Philippians 4:19 which says "But my God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus". His eye really is on the sparrow...and I KNOW He's watching me!

So how do I know that? If I didn't know Jesus I wouldn't be able to comprehend that every little thing is from God. Every good thing, every seemingly bad thing, every ounce of anything and everything I have is a gift from Him. I'm only a simple human. How can I wrap my mind around such a supernatural concept? Blind faith? Yes. A little of that. Utter dependency on someone greater than me? It's a good start but completely impossible without faith. Rest assured, I didn't just wake up one morning and realize God had my back... I've been growing up in my Christianity over the last couple of years and because of my God-directed path that I've been on, when the time came to completely "let go and let God..." I could do it. And even more importantly, I did it! And in turn, He did exactly what he said He would do. Truly, the Lord IS my Shepherd, and I shall NOT want!

This is going to be a long story. I won't apologize - it's my blog and I can write something as long as I want! But it might be that I write the 'story' in several posts. It's so important to me to sing God's praises that I don't want to miss a thing! So bear with me if it takes me forever. As it were, the last time I wrote a thing in my blog was 6 months ago :( I promise, my blog-followers, I'll try to do better!

Since everything that happens in my life (yours too, by the way!) has been part of His divine plan since before the beginning of time, there are no coincidences in life. Each instance in my little world is just another paver on the path laid out for me. Officially to tell the "story" I could go all the way back to my childhood, before I was born, even before my mom and dad were born! But for time's sake I'll start when I met my sweet church. I knew Jesus. Well, I knew who He was and I had 'accepted Him as my Savior'. And that was the extent of my Christianity. I figured it was enough. And it was if I was going to continue down my own self-carved path it would have been plenty. But He had other plans for me. He decided I was ready to visit Tuckaseege Baptist Church and when I did my whole life changed forever. Yes, I knew Jesus but evidently on my first visit to His church I also met up with the Holy Spirit!

Visiting Tuckaseege led me to my Sunday School class, taught by a motherly, precious woman who genuinely prays for people. If ever there's a need, she's praying. Remember that as we get farther along in the 'story'. While in Sunday School I started to become really thirsty for the Word of God. As a child I had heard all the Bible stories, but as an adult these stories got some breath in them, became alive to me with real people and real situations. I started to hear the Word with different ears. I could see plainly what was meant by the 'living' Word. It was ALIVE and chasing me! It called me and I heard it! It answered my questions, increased my knowledge, quenched my thirst. God's love letters to me. God's instruction for me. God's very words had been sitting in my bookcase for 40 years just waiting for me to open the pages and receive. My favorite part, if you will, was anytime I'd been struggling with an issue or had nagging questions or worries. Just like a well-executed plan it was comprehensively addressed within the hour of my Sunday School lesson. It was as if I had said "Hey God, answer me this..." and poof, we turned to our lesson and He said "here ya go". That kept me eager and it suddenly dawned on me that I seemed to have a very personal relationship with God.

My church relationships also started to grow. If I missed a Sunday people would notice. That made me feel like I was a part of something. And without me there things weren't the same for everyone else. That might sound arrogant - but being an official member of the Body of Christ, I really do play a role in the overall church. Even if it's just to be a pew filler for that day, I was officially a part of something. That was a nice feeling and that made me want to go more. It made me want to come back on Sunday nights and Wednesdays. I started to really become a part of a church. I wasn't so much a visitor anymore but someone who welcomed visitors. More purpose for my random life.

Some time passed. Lots of other wonderful things came to me as a result of becoming a member of my church, but again for time's sake you're just going to have to trust me. The most important thing I gained was growth in my Christianity which made it possible to see my upcoming "season of unemployment" as the blessing that it turned out to be. It was Mid-March and suddenly I found myself unemployed. It was no fault of my own, in my opinion, but I was not eligible to receive unemployment benefits. So there I was - without employment or income. At first I wasn't worried. I had just received my income tax check and had enough money to do me for a bit. I was amazed at how fast that money was gone. I figured I'd easily get a job working in a veterinary hospital but that wasn't the case. The next thing you know I was a few months into unemployment and down to less than 10 bucks in my checking account. Becoming broken. Dying to myself. Whatever you wanted to call it - I was getting to the bottom of the rocks with nowhere to turn but God and only God. And then I had a paradigm shift in my way of thinking (Wink and nod to my pastor...) and suddenly this horrible thing that happened to me, this desperate state I found myself in, this 'random patch of bad luck' became a blessing the likes I never thought to expect! He saved me in every way and so now when it comes to anything "me" - to God be all the Glory forever, AMEN!

There's a lot more to 'the story' but I'm going to stop for now. I've been blessed with the opportunity to ride on a trailer full of hay bales with some of my favorite church people through Christmastown, USA tonight and I need to get ready. I don't want to try to sound like some kind of expert here ... but if you will, look around you. See everything in your line of sight as something that God has loaned you to bring Him Glory. And make it so. Tweek your perspective, look at things through God's eyes and make everything you have or do be about Him. Right now I'm using my God-loaned laptop computer to use my God-given ability to string words together well enough to praise His name. See how easy that is?! It's not always that easy but I promise you, the more you "stay in Jesus" the better off you are! Blessings to you!

I See You Lookin' At Me... Don't Worry, I Won't Eat It All

Admit it. You've been at the Golden Corral - or any other 'all you can eat' buffet - saw a really overweight person roll up to the food bar and thought to yourself "Don't eat it all!" or something along those lines. I'll admit it - I've done exactly that - and I'm sure I did it just to feel better about being there myself. But I don't do it for long. While being at the Golden Corral I'll start to notice some disapproving eyes on me as I grab a plate and make my way into the line. I have actually seen looks of disgust on peoples faces glancing in my direction for doing the same thing they're doing at that time - having some dinner. Well no worries, Skinny Minnie, there's enough Macaroni and Cheese to go around. The Golden Corral is prepared for people like me.

I heard a comedian (and I'm sorry, I don't remember who it was) recently say "a fat girl's 4 favorite words are "all you can eat!" and the crowd laughed. I didn't think it was funny - but for whatever the reason we overweight people are a big butt of jokes (Ba-Dum-Bum!). I guess the point is that socially, it seems to be ok to poke a little fun at the expense of the fat folks of the world - especially if they have the nerve to show up at the China King Buffet on crablegs night. Fair game? It shouldn't be. We eat our pasta salad the same way less large people do - one bite at a time. There's nothing funny about that.

It's not everyone, I know there's plenty of non-judgemental people in the world. But if you're one of the ones who can't help but wonder how that big gal has the audacity to line up at the dessert bar please try to mind your glaring stare. Put yourself into their wide shoes for a minute and imagine if everyone studied whatever was on your plate (or in your purse, or in your bathroom or in your 'secret closet'). Matthew 7:1, which says "Judge not, lest ye be judged" comes to mind. But it's even more than that. Since you too are standing with a plate in hand at the all you can eat buffet, Romans 2:3 says "Do you suppose, O man, you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself - that you will escape the judgement of God?" Remember that as you cast your stones! (You might also want to remember that I once was skinny too. Fat can happen to the best of us - even you!)

That Stupid Scale Can Kiss My Fat Butt

For as far back as I can remember I've worried about my weight. Whether I was thin or as big as I've ever been a day didn't go by where I didn't spend some time and some energy fretting over how much I weighed. I got on the scales every morning, every night and every other time I went into the bathroom. (Still do). The numbers on the scales dictated my moods. The numbers validated what I was feeling about myself. Random, ordinary numbers on the face of my biggest foe pryed themselves into my fibers, needled away at my confidence, eroded my worth. Numbers. Just numbers on a scale - in my mind were my complete and total identity. (Still is).

I am not a daughter or a friend. I was never a wife or a team member or an employee. And now I'm not a mom, a church member or an alto in the choir. I am a number on a scale. And I hate that. But for the life of me I cannot separate myself the human being from myself - the number. Recently I quit looking at the number and where does that leave me? Without identity? Stuck on the last number I saw - which was awful? You bet. Hello, my name is #265. Nice to meet you.

Where did this crazy way of thinking come from? I don't know. I wished I was as fat now as I thought I was back in high school. I remember clearly worrying about my weight so much so that I would go a couple of days without eating a bite, ever checking in with the scale to see how great I was doing. But then I would have some water and the scale would shoot right back up to where I started and I would be devistated. So then I would forego even water in hopes that the scale would give me a number I could live with. But looking back, I see that what I was doing and how I was thinking was just short of insanity. I really, really saw myself as fat. I thought I was fat and I hated myself for it. And then when the scales moved in the wrong direction it was all over but the crying. I plunged deeper and deeper into unhealthy behaviors and skewed opinions on food and it's purpose. My body image was distorted and I looked into the mirror and saw fat.

Being a teenager was hard. But I'm sure it was hard for anyone who lived through their teen years as well. I don't know exactly what my deal was and why I was so sad but I was. And my fat feelings started around that time. (It's this sort of stuff that an eating disorder treatment facility like the one portrayed on that TV show I spoke of earlier would come in handy, I suppose). In reality (and I can see it now...) I was a chunky kid growing up, pudgy or 'thick'. I remember about age 14 that I got taller and shed a lot of that 'baby fat'. Looking back what I see of me was a tallish girl for my age, about 5'6 with some curves and a little meat on my bones. But I was not fat by any logical standard (again, it's easy to see that now...). I was blessed with my mother's figure - she calls it having child bearing hips, and I had a little pudge on my belly and my rear-end was proportional to my hips. I was a size 7-8. So what's the problem? (I'd give my right arm to be that size now!!) The problem was many of the other teen girls were a size 2 with flat butts (popular at the time), pencil thin with no meat and any bones anywhere. For me I didn't measure up. Throw in a boyfriend who would say "you have a great body - if you would just tone it up a little" and the occasional "are you going to eat that?" and my still developing teenager mind started to obsess over food, size, my body, weight and the dreaded scales.

There's a lot more teenager junk and I don't suppose I'm ready to start talking about it all just yet but I developed plenty - I mean plenty of bad behaviors early in my teen years. Drugs and 'diet' pills started early for me and drinking was a big one that, just like my eating habits, stuck around and caused lots of problems. (starting to get anxious about clicking on "publish post" again...). But unlike my eating disorder, I finally got the drinking under control - praise God! I'm going to write about drinking one day - just not today. The bottom line is that I've had a few addictions, hard addictions to conquer and I know it all lends itself to where I find myself this very day. I know how to practice an addiction. I know. But, and I'm blessed to say, food is the last big one. It's by far been the hardest. I'm trying now, again, for the umpteenth time to overcome it and that's why I'm sitting here this day and writing about it.

I HATE that stupid scale - and it can kiss my fat butt. It calls out to me saying stuff like "you know you want to get up here" and "step on up, let me ruin your whole day". When it's really being mean it'll say "get your number so I can tell you how much you suck. You blew it, fat ass - you might as well go eat everything in the house. Loser." I give that voice to my scale. It's easy for me to see that as I sit here typing. It's not easy at all when I step on the scale after every bowel movement - thinking "that was a big one, surely I just lost a pound?" Just like that mound of clothes I talked about yesterday, one day I'm going to send that scale packing and I will finally be something more than a number. No more will I let that hateful instrument of measure tell me what day I'm going to have or what kind of mother I can be. I will no longer let the scales be a measurement of my success or my failure. After all, wieght is just a number, right? I'll donate that thing to Goodwill with that last bag of fat clothes that's going over there also. But for right now... (the hard part, and part of my eating disorder) I'll keep my evil, dear old friend, the scale, and I will struggle not to get on it. I haven't gotten on it yet despite the curiosity to know 'the number'. But I can't throw it out yet - I just cannot. I'm just not ready to have a bathroom with out a scale. As stupid as that sounds.

It is for the freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1. (Scales included!)

The Secret In My Closet - Sizes 8 to 28 Represented In There.

Right now my entire wardrobe consists of 2 pairs of dress pants, one 3/4 length sleeve button up shirt with a collar, a pink sweater and a tight tank top to wear under it, a pair of brown, casual pants, 3 pairs of worn out jeans and a few ill-fitting tee-shirts. I also have a few long sleeve shirts that don't really work in the spring/upcoming summer. And that's all. But, I'm about to be buried under a ridiculous amount of clothes, Clothes, CLOTHES!!! Clothes, clothes everywhere and not a thing to wear...(if I can sort of plagiarize Samuel Taylor Coleridge in the Rime of the Ancient Mariner...). I have a walk-in closet crammed full of clothes, a dresser stuffed so tightly that I struggle to close the drawers, I have mounds of clothes piled on top of the dresser and laundry baskets that I'm trying to find a place for. I even have large storage bins full of clothes out in my storage building. None of it I can wear except the few things I just mentioned. My closet is a symptom of my eating disorder.

Inside my closet, sizes 8 through 28 are represented. I have enough clothes in each of the sizes to constitute an entire 'wardrobe'. At least enough clothes in each size to get by. I've dragged all of these clothes around with me since I was a size 8 - a long, long time ago, adding to the mound for each size that I climbed. The result has left me with literally nothing to wear but more clothes than I know what to do with. I'm not a horder - at least not like the ones you see on TV - but I refuse to get rid of these clothes because "I'm going to lose weight and I'll be able to wear them again". At least that's what I tell myself everytime I go down to Walmart to buy more clothes hangers and another large storage bin to store more clothes in.

I have a little orange dress hanging up right in front of my face that I'm forced to see everytime I walk into my closet. I used to wear that dress - and I hang it in my face to remind me of what I used to be. In my mind it's supposed to be a little encouragement to myself but it's more like an evil voice telling me how much I suck. Since I've grown out of that dress years ago, I've hung it in a food pantry, a cabinet in the kitchen and even folded it an put it in the fridge - thinking maybe I'll see the little bitty dress and decide not to eat whatever I'm after in there. It's a diet trick that doesn't work. One of these days I'll put that dress back on long enough for me to say "take that you stupid little dress!!" and then I'll get rid of it because I'm sick of it and its hateful, constant, daily reminder.

Clothes shopping for me is now just a necessity. I hate to do it but I will if I must. (I'll get more into shopping and just how horrible an activity it is for me in some later post...as I'm just not ready to talk about that yet)...Generally, every shopping trip ends with me vowing to never buy another thread of clothes "in this size". And I'm about as determined in that as I can be. "I have a closet full of nice things - and I'll just lose some weight and wear them", I tell myself. But it only takes a very short amount of time before the 'act of shopping' and the state that it leaves me in to go ahead and completely consume my senses and I try to make that all better by eating. And then I beat myself up some more for eating. And then I eat because I beat myself up so bad for eating. And then I add my purchases to my ever-growing clothes mound and I get on the couch in defeat and exhaustion.

I've successfully lost a good bit of weight a few times. And one of the diet "tricks" I've utilized in that weight loss is when you lose a dress size - give away/get rid of your 'fat clothes'. The thought behind this trick is that you're less likely to gain back your weight if you don't have clothes to wear. Yep. Whatever. As many clothes as I have now - I would have a great deal more if I hung on to all the "fat" clothes I've given to Goodwill. And the truth is somedays I wished I still had some of those clothes - that 'diet trick' didn't work as I don't have a clue what I've spent replacing them when I gained back every ounce I ever lost and then some.

I'm looking forward to getting healthy again. Healthy this time in mind, body and spirit. If I can change the ways I deal with things - mostly with food as my go to - I may be able to get rid of some things once and for all. I'm ready to make a giant donation to the Goodwill store once and for all and remove this burdonsome mound of clothes off my shoulders forever. If I drop a size I vow to drop that sizes wardrobe from my vast collection and I'll make a big fuss over it as if conquering a giant. Each and every piece of clothing I lose will be instead counted as a gain.

Whew! That's a load off my shoulders already! I won't even get started on the shoes!

I Can't Believe I'm Going to Post This But Here Goes Nothing...

I'm on Facebook all the time so sometimes I read something there that I get a little inspiration from. Today was one of those days. A facebook friend of mine posted the quote from an unknown source: "Never give up on something you can't go a day without thinking about". I needed to hear that. I need that seared into my pshche. I wake up every morning with big plans and by mid-morning it's all over but the crying. I need to remember not to forget. Today is that day. I will not give up this time.

I can only imagine what the sales meetings are like at the General Nutrition Center (GNC), or any other store just like it. There's a room full of thin, pretty girls, meaty, muscley young men with gelled hair and a gold chain stretched tightly around his thick, body builder neck. They're wearing their khaki pants with their polo shirts tucked in nicely and everyone is tanned and gorgeous. The management team is just as put together, just slightly older and clearly graduates of whatever marketing school they attended. All very polished, all love themselves a great deal and all satisfied with their jobs. And hey, 20% employee discounts on Mega-Extreme Lean Body Muscle-Building Protein Powder is icing on the cake. Life is grand!

"Ok TEAM!", says the managers to the sales people. "There are lots and lots and lots of fat people out there. They don't love themselves like we do. They are lazy and they sit on the couch all day just wishing they wouldn't be fat anymore. They are always on a diet and they always fail. They search far and wide for some easy, quick-fix and they're willing to pay any amount of money for it. They know it won't work. They know it because they've tried everything out there. They've bought into every infomercial, every women's magazine article, every advertisement. They will even tell you 'I've tried it all and nothing has worked!' What they won't tell you is how they get up out of bed in the middle of the night, eat a massive bowl of sugary cereal with whole milk and then go right back to bed. They won't say 'I took the diet pills and then I went to McDonald's for lunch, adding a 12 piece Chicken McNuggets to go with my Big Mac Meal. Oh, and a large sweet tea.'" The management/motivation team continue, "These fat people are desperate and we need to prey on, er, help them. We're here to help!" And the beefy, beautiful sales team cheers!

"Ok", says the director of marketing. "How can we help the poor, poor fattys and capitalize on their flightly 'I'm really gonna do it this time' determination?" He continued, "When the fat people come in and start looking around for the 'magic pill' I want you to lead them over to the entire back wall - full of diet products. We even have a big sign over the shelves that says 'DIET'. See?" and he points to the back wall and the meat heads nod in acknowledgement. "Every month we'll have a different sales incentive program and we'll focus on a different bottle of magic pills", he said with a tooth-whitened grin and a chuckle. "And whoever sells the most wins a 60 ounce tub of Mass Fusion Optimum Micronized Lean Muscle Body Building Creatine Powder! In Strawberry!!" He whipped the team into a frenzy with high-fives all around, peck flexing and strutting. "Now go help a fat person!" he finished, clapping then dismissed the meeting. Then the fit and trim sales staff went on to work - on a mission.

By the last time I walked into the GNC I had tried every infomercial product, every women's magazine article and every diet product sales pitch had me hook, line and sinker. I've read every book, I've tried every kind of diet from Adkins to the Master Cleanse. I've prayed about it, attended Overeaters Anonymous, considered surgery, gone to medical weight loss centers, put magnets in my shoes and starved myself. I've vomitted, taken laxatives and I've excersized myself nearly into heart failure. I've swallowed vinegar before every meal, I've taken fat blockers and I've lived on speed and diet pills until I worried that my heart would stop. I've taken water pills until my muscles cramped. I woke up EVERY SINGLE MORNING and started a diet only to fail miserably by lunchtime. I've been sick with envy of the thin people of the world, I've beaten myself to a pulp with guilt and self-loathing and I stopped looking at myself in the mirror. I had blamed everything there was to blame and I had all but given up, resorting to sitting on the couch and wishing I would lose some weight.

Believe me, I know there's no such thing as a "magic pill". I know how to lose weight because I've lost lots of weight a few times. But for whatever the reason that day, I found myself face-to-face with a beefy sales-boy at the GNC, asking me if he could help me find something. "Yes", I said. "Point me to your magic pills", I joked. Mr. Muscles blinked a couple times, probably couldn't believe his luck as he harkened back to the GNC motivational sales meeting, realizing there really are fat people in the world who believe in magic pills and he was one sale closer to that tub of muscle-building goodness! He led me over to a product display and literally handed me a bottle of pills and told me everything a fat person wanted to hear - take these pills and you'll lose a zillion pounds without even trying. The sad part was that he thought I was serious. Even sadder was that I bought the damn thing, knowing - knowing - I was buying another bottle of snake oil. I took my bottle of 40 something dollar diet pills home with me, took a few of them and promptly gave up again. And I was mad at the guy for preying on my desperation - blaming him (and probably some sales meeting that I just made up in my mind) for my failures. And then I thought if he - and the rest of the multi-billion dollar a year diet industry - only knew how I felt about myself and my failures and how much worse I was going to feel when the "magic pill" they just promised me didn't work, then maybe they wouldn't try so hard to earn their money at my expense.

Last weekend I was sitting on the couch watching TV (the only thing I do that doesn't make my joints ache) when I happened onto a program on the Oprah Network. (*disclaimer* - I'm not trying to promote The Oprah Network here - it could have been any reality show based network...) The program was called "Addicted to Food" - a reality show based on a treatment center for various types of eating disorders. Every thing the program said, every point it tried to make, every participants story, every single thing about that show screamed at me to PAY ATTENTION! THIS IS ALL ABOUT YOU!! It wasn't a lightbulb moment, I've always known what my food issues are and have been for years. But it was eye opening and at the least a little nudge - while I sat there on the couch - to get up and try to get myself back together. In this particular treatment center they used the actual Alcoholics Anonymous 12 steps for recovery substituting the word "alcohol" for "food" and they treated the participants like actual addicts complete with food detox, strict and very closely monitored treatment plans and intensive cognitive therapy. And they were also a christian based center, I believe, the TV program showing the counselors at least praying in the name of Jesus Christ which made the show even better to me.

I made note earlier of all the diets I've been on before and all the tricks I've tried. I've done it all. Well, all except get honest. As I watched the show (and it was a program 'marathon' with 4 episodes shown back to back) the more I realized that it was time for me to do something. I could have been any one of those people - and watching them from the "outside looking in", it was easy to see the need for help. There were interesting story lines in the 'cast' and all resembled me so much. I wrote down some of the teaching portions of the show and I tried to soak up everything the counselors told the addicts. I was getting geared up to get on with doing something about my weight problem once and for all and then the head lady at the center said something that disappointed me. She said to the patients there - "No one can do it alone. Just like a heroin addict needs to be detoxed, counseled and helped into sobriety, so does the food addict. You need help, you can not do it alone". I am alone. And I went into the kitchen and fixed myself something to eat.

But I'm stuck on it this time. I know what I've lost as a direct result of my eating disorder and I know what my eating disorder has prevented. My love for my 'drug' has choked out my enjoyment for many other things. It's robbed me of good things that I deserve and it's very definately stolen from me my general well-being and good health. I've decided to get honest and tell others about my eating disorder - sort of like those people on that program unveiled themselves for the world to see (or whoever watches the Oprah Network). Starting yesterday I've decided to address my weight and moreso the things that cause my weight to be what it is and I'm going to write about it as my "help". If someone reads it then I'm not alone. As I sit here typing, I'm feeling anxious about actually hitting the "publish post" button but I'm going to do it and see where it leads me. Over the course of my self-help treatment program I believe I'll write about it all, what got me here, my big food secrets, what I'm doing now, etc. I might even post a picture or two. And I'll see what happens. It's something that I haven't tried yet and once and for all this has to be the first step to regaining myself; to be a better mom, a better employee to whoever will hire me, a better daughter to my mom, a better christian, a better church member and a better friend. Ok, here goes nothing. Click publish...

Not So Randomly Praising God

Sometimes life seems so random. One minute you're here, one minute you're there. We just roll along trying to live our life with a plan and a purpose but still feeling like there's a big randomness all around. Or at least that's how I feel most of the time. So recently, and quite randomly, I have found myself as a new member of the Tuckaseege Baptist Church Choir. Again, one minute I'm parked on a pew in the sanctuary on a Sunday and the next I'm draped in a heavy, burgangy choir robe and trying to find my inner alto. So random. Or is it?

If I pull back, way back, and have a look at the totality of my life so far, I can clearly see a pattern here. There's really no scattered footprints wandering about aimlessly but a paved path which lead me from childhood and straight into the second row of my church's choir. Then if I tighten up the focus I can even say that the purpose was not to be in the choir as a whole but to stand in the exact spot that I was standing this past Sunday. I was supposed to hear exactly what I heard and gain what I gained by hearing it. And that moment in time was all part of the Master's big plan for me - well organized and pulled off without a single hitch!

My dad loved music. He played all sorts of instruments, he had a love for jukeboxes - we always had one - and he even sold records for a living. There was music everywhere in my childhood home from Elvis Presley to boxloads of Rythym and Blues 45's. From piano to banjo - the house was always alive with a tune! As far back as I can remember I had that same love for music. Songs from every genre, every generation are embossed on my memories. I so vividly remember sitting beside daddy on the piano bench and trying to sing "The Holy City" as well as he played it. I never could. He would take me around places and get me to sing for his friends. It was a lucrative little business for me - mostly getting paid in shiny quarters and mostly because I was Johnny Bishop's little girl! It was music that was the strongest bond between dad and me and to this day when I hear certain songs I think of him. I can't watch a man's hands stroll over a piano keyboard without getting lost in memories of him.

I grew up believing that I would be a great singer. I had no doubt in my mind that I was that good and could easily be the next big somebody. Unfortunately the desire and the talent didn't exactly sync up. I could always carry a tune and did well enough to win a karaoke contest or two but it would take a lot more than that to be catapulted into super-stardom! The older I got the more I realized that. At one time I even went so far as to question God for giving me the desire but not the same level of talent. I didn't get it. Surely He knew how much I wanted it. If He would just grant me what I desired then I could sing for the people, the people would love me, I would be rich and famous and then I could give a little back by tithing to a church or something. No luck.

The older I got the less I sang. Gone were the days of seeing my dad beam with pride because I sang the National Anthem at a minor league baseball game. No more bar crawling to Karaoke nights, competing for a cheap trophy and the adoration of the local bar flies thinking surely one of these people could "discover" me. The dream had died - and eventually so did what little voice I had. I sang in the car and I sang to my son. And that was all. I had to go work for a living, trudging along in my random life - earning a non-glamourous living. Thank you very much G-O-D. Thanks for nothing. I was going to glorify you with my fabulousness but no - you couldn't work with me on my big plan.

Last summer I visited Tuckaseege Baptist Church. I had no intention of going there but my son had been going with a neighbor to the Vacation Bible School that week and he had learned a song with the other children of the church. He would be singing in church that Sunday morning and he insisted I be there. That same morning they had a guest pianist and as I was walking into the sanctuary I was nearly knocked over by the music. The beautiful music played by that man took me right back to my little spot on daddy's piano bench listening and watching his hands and wanting to sing well enough to make him even more proud of me. Oh and I cried as he played In The Garden, The Old Rugged Cross, How Great Thou Art. On and on the man played and my heart nearly exploded in the longing for my dad. I wished he could have been there, I wished I could have told him about the man and I wished he could have seen my baby sing. But beyond the sadness and tears there was a spark. A tiny little flame of interest in the music itself. I wanted to sing it! I wanted to stand up and sing it and let the people here me sing it and love me and my voice!! And then it was over. Completely missing the point, I shook some hands, met a few nice people and Matthew and I left. So random, but not really. Matthew and I went back to church that next weekend. And mostly every weekend since then.

"Word got out" that I used to sing a little and finally, after being asked several times and by several different people to join the choir I had run out of excuses. So poof! Just like that I found myself in the choir - singing again. Or trying to. Singing in a church choir is a lot harder than singing in your shower. There are multiple parts and many voices, tempos and key changes and arrangements. I had forgotten what "CODA" was and found myself flipping around the pages just trying to keep up with the others. I didn't know the songs, I had lost my nerve and I couldn't sing alto without following along with someone's tenor. I was humbled. And then His plan for me became perfectly clear...

Sunday morning I stood up with the choir, cleared my throat, took in my lungs-full of air and prepared to sing our song. I sang the parts I could, mouthed the rest. But what was so much better than singing was standing in the middle of the music. The music notes dancing gently over the ivory keyboard, rising and falling and softly swirling around the hearts of the voices. Oh the voices, the sopranos beside me, the basses and tenors behind me all filling my soul with the lyrics of praise. The sheer love for Christ in the voice of the lady standing right beside me washed over me and I cried. She truly loved Him and I heard that love in her precious voice. It was an all-inspiring love song from the voices all singing straight to the audience that was God alone. And then I started to sing again, "Blessed Be The Name Of The Lord" and this time to God! And HE loved my voice! And I finally got it! My talent for Him - He gave me a talent for use to praise HIM. So now I'm in the choir, humbly singing along, mostly in my own key and once again loving music! Not random at all but a direct and specific plan laid out for me, using my dad and my childhood surrounded in songs as a path to the 2nd row of the Tuckaseege Baptist Church Choir.

Personal Little Rainbows

RAINBOW (noun): An arc or circle that exhibits in concentric bands the colors of the spectrum and that is formed opposite the sun by the refraction and reflection of the sun's rays in raindrops, spray or mist. That's what the Merriam-Websters Dictionary says about Rainbows. I'm sure it makes a lot of sense to a scientist who understands the difference in refraction and reflection but not so much to me. All I know about any of that is that I know one when I see one.

Much ado has been made about rainbows. It's a part of politics with it's Rainbow Coalition, it's a part of NASCAR with it's Rainbow Warriors, it's a symbol of pride and acceptance for some and it's even a "magically delicious" marshmallow in a box of Frosted Lucky Charms. Most famously, I guess, the Rainbow is the gateway to a place where troubles melt like lemon drops and happy little blue birds fly. When I was kid even Kermit the Frog sang a song called "The Rainbow Connection" on the Muppet Show. It was one of my favorite songs then and still remains in my top 10 of all time favorites! I even have the record on my jukebox. (Yes, I'm that old...)

Besides all of that, what is a rainbow really? As a Christian I believe exactly what the Bible tells me about a rainbow. Genesis 9:13-16 says "I have set my rainbow in the clouds; and it will be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth." To put it simply (if I may be so bold) it's God's promise to every single being on earth - creatures included - that He will never again destroy the world by flooding waters. So when I see a rainbow in the sky firstly I thank the Lord that there will be no earth-destroying floods today but I think how awesome it is to be seeing with my own eyes a miracle - a message from God himself right over my head! No need to find the end of it for some mythical pot of gold - the gold is the thing itself! It's not what Merriam Webster said at all but a God-spoken light of beauty right before my very eyes!!

The other day while working I was saying prayers in my mind about all sorts of things. I do that all the time - good days and bad, thankful or needy, I take it all to God. Then I happened to look around me and noticed at that particular moment in time I was surrounded by little rainbows glowing on the counters and walls and even one spilling onto the floor. Now, those little rainbows may have been more of what Mr. Webster described ever so scientifically as concentric bands brought on by the refraction of the sun's rays - or in this case the beveled edges of our windows as the sun shined through them. But for me in that moment I decided that it was God, hearing my prayers and sending me my personal little rainbows as a reminder of His promise to never flood me with the waters of life. It's a nice thought, I thought, and maybe one you might remember as you're building your own arc to brave the rapids of your life. The next time you catch a rainbow in the mist of your kitchen sink sprayer take comfort in God's promise to YOU!