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!