Eulogy For My Friend Diet

Still working through my issues of eating too much, dieting, failing, eating too much, dieting, failing, infinity, etc. ... the next assignment up from my counselor is to write a eulogy to my Diet. I didn't want to! And at first all I could think of was poor, dumb Derek Zoolander being a ridiculously good "eugooglizer". Alas, even in the death of things - hope springs eternal. And the hope now is to bid a fond farewell to all my "diets" and a big hello to something - anything different that might work to get my weight at a place I can be ok with.....

Thank you all for coming. I don't think I have to tell you just how hard it is for me to stand before you today, behind the lifeless body of my friend Diet and tell you what all she meant to me. Grieving her loss and letting her rest in peace will be even harder still. Currently her departure is still very fresh, and honestly, I don't believe I've come to terms with this unimaginable loss.

Diet and I grew up together in a modest, middle class home. I was never hungry and I never wanted for anything. But, I was raised by people who knew the power of hunger and grew up thinking that food was "special". My mother fed me well. And she didn't let me leave anything on my plate. My mom and dad were also southern - and enjoyed all things fried, seasoned in fatback, and full of calories! I mean, the fat is where the flavor is?! Right?! It wasn't the healthiest of foods - but man, when my mom cooked... food felt like LOVE! Holidays were the BEST! There was never a special occasion that didn't revolve around food! Where ever friends and family were gathered, there was food. It's just how it was.

As kids Diet and I enjoyed meals together - never giving much thought about weight issues or health. We just ate what we wanted and went on about our days. But heading into my pre-teen years all of a sudden I noticed I was a pudgy kid. Diet noticed also, and while looking out for my best interest, often reminded me that perhaps I should slow down on the pasta! Just trying to help - she would even, at times, urge me not to eat at all. Together she and I maintained a tall, curvy figure. As long as she stuck with me and I did what she told me to - we made a great team! 

Diet was successful in her chosen field - losing a lot of weight several times. From Adkins to The Zone, from Jenny Craig to Weight Watchers - Diet was enthusiastic and ever-willing to put me through the wringer to make me the best me I could be!! I only wished I had the stamina and will power she tried to instill. I can still see her happy and smiling face yelling at me "YOU CAN DO IT!!"  

You know, come to think of it though - Diet and I had a complicated relationship. She had a dark side too and she was was hard on me. So hard on me that I became very hard on myself. The more she tried to get out of me the less I gave her what she wanted. When I tried to turn my back on her she would come for me, ever talking me back into her good graces. The older I got the more it was an on-again, off-again relationship. I had stopped my die-hard commitment to her, but there were times she'd still put up a fuss until I gave in. Occasionally I'd at least try to cut out entire food groups for long periods of time or something. Through the years however, she was wearing me down. She would side with her buddy, Scales, and they would gang up on me to make me do what she wanted. I started to feel like Christina Crawford telling her mom, Joan Crawford, "I love you, Mommie Dearest", 5 minutes after cleaning the Ajax Cleanser off the bathroom floor and getting a beat down from a wire hanger. Did Diet frustrate me?! YES! Did I love her any way? Oh yes. DO I HATE HER?! YESSSS!!!!!  Wait... where was I?! I forgot where I was for a moment.....

And so, in conclusion my dear, sweet friend Diet, as much as I love you - it's time for me to let you go. Rest in Peace, friend, although I know that's hard for you! You'll never be far from my heart or thoughts, but I must learn now to live without you. And well, I have met someone who, I think, will fill the hole you've left in me - Healthy Choices. Ms. Choices and I will work together to replace you in a way that I can look back over yours and my adventures together fondly - but not in a way that Christina Crawford felt when she got zilch from Joan's lush estate - except the last word! But then again, maybe I will have the last word........... Mommie Dearest sold a zillion copies!

Dear 2019 Me

 Dear 2019 Me,

Hello! It’s probably very strange and confusing hearing from me now! My counselor has asked me to write you. I know it’s been a while – I really didn’t know how to reach out to you, or what to say. The first thing I want to say is I’M SORRY! I feel like I let you down. You were doing so good – and then I offered you an extra bite of peanut butter. I derailed you. And I am so sorry. You have to know. I think about you all the time. I would love to come back and be a part of your life again!! A lot of very well meaning people keep telling me “you can get there again”… but can I? That’s going backwards! I need to move ahead – and maybe achieve a new goal. I just want you to know – I’m not over losing you. I’m struggling with losing you.

As you know, I’ve battled my weight my whole life. Well, “weight” might be the wrong word… I’ve battled my opinion of my weight. Whether I was pencil thin or as big as I’ve ever been I hated what I saw when I looked in a mirror. Even worse – I thought that everyone else saw what I saw and hated me for it. I have no idea where this came from or what compels me to hate myself so. I just do. I’m working on that now. I was trying to work on it with you – but I went down a path with you that ended up being the wrong path for me. I’m proud of all YOU accomplished! But at the same time, I’m so disappointed in myself for not being able to follow in your running shoe-clad footsteps.

Before I forget, please tell Sister 2018 I said “Hi”! I haven’t heard from her in a long, long time. Bless her heart, she was the one who got our ball rolling – and she had the right idea. Once she heard the words from the doctor, “You have diabetes”, she finally did something about her health. She was eating foods that were good for her, she was eating enough, drinking plenty of water and getting some daily exercise. I was so proud of her. She had some kind of nearly super-human willpower! She lost all that weight and inches but most importantly she reversed a potentially deadly disease with nothing more than diet and exercise! Who knew that girl had it in her?! I for one was shocked at her success!

To start with, she was humble in her beginning journey, and she truly was careful to remind anyone who asked that she couldn’t do it without God. Her “secret” was Low Carbs and Jesus! She honestly wanted any success she had to glorify God – and she insisted that her diagnosis of diabetes was a promise made in Romans 8:28 saying “…..all things work for the Good for those who love God”. ALL things – even diabetes. She just wanted to get healthy, glorify God in the process and encourage anyone who needed it.

You know what though? It turns out that the diet she was on was considered a really “extreme diet”, designed for people to knock off a few pounds before going under the knife for bariatric surgery. Not exactly healthy and it certainly wasn’t meant for long term – 6 to 8 weeks tops! The girl did it without even cheating for a solid year. Even if she was eating enough – mentally the diet wasn’t all that healthy. She was an “all or nothing” dieter – and was terrified to even have a taste of something that wasn’t planned for; like one bite of something would send her into a out-of-control-spiral-of-eating-all-the-things. And if nothing else – a diet that completely eliminates certain foods or eating plans that literally villainize food groups isn’t balanced and it’s not sustainable for long term.

I do believe the poor girl developed Diet PTSD from the experience. I tried to help Sister ’18 by letting her know that a slice of pizza was ok every once and awhile. And then I looked the other way when she started eating whole pizzas again. People used to tell her all the time “Hey! You’ve lost a whole person!” She went back and found that person again, and now I believe we’ve lost her. I’d love it if she’d come for a visit. Maybe she and I could work together to find a healthier way of eating. Not dieting… eating.

And then came you, my 2019 alter ego!! YOU, my highly exaggerated, over the top friend, lost your mind and took the whole thing to some crazy, manic level that you didn’t need to go to! I have to say though, I LOVED YOU! Right behind being a “bigtime radio star” you were my favorite version of me. When you finally decided on 50 races?! GAH!! It was so exciting for me! But what was even more exciting for me was all of the other people who were coming along on the “journey” with you. You made it ok for me to look in the mirror again! You made me want my picture taken! You made me feel like an “inspiration”, like I finally found my purpose in life – like I had somehow discovered the actual secret to weight loss and health and my job was to share that good news of the Protein Sparing Modified Fast Diet. You talked a great game – you “ran” some great races, you set your goal of 50 races and you DID THE THING! I’ve never been able to set a goal and accomplish anything – but you did it for me and I loved myself for it!! I made new friends, got up with old friends, and I fell in love with new interests. By the time I was on the news I felt like a celebrity!! Something I’ve always wanted to be is famous – and damn if you weren’t getting me there!! Local news wanted to have you back on their programs to follow your ‘success’. Finally, I had a great topic to write a book about, a topic that sells books! You had all the people reading about your journey on Facebook – telling me as much as they’d pay to read my book. All you needed to do was lose 10 more pounds to reach your goal so that the book would have an ending. You, along with your more level-headed 2018 sister, together managed to lose 130 pounds. What was 10 more pounds? Anybody can lose 10 pounds!! BUT! Thanks to me – and my love for binge eating and peanut butter, you missed the goal by 10. Dang. Damn. Stupid. Stupid. Hateful. Damn. Pounds. And I am so sorry. Even worse than that – you lost track of the original goal – get healthy, glorify God and to sing of the promises of our Savior. You went off the deep end, losing Sister ‘18 in the process. And that whole person you lost? That was me. I did love you – but it turns out there were some people who loved the me I could never love. I didn’t miss “real me” – but they sure did. Now that I’m back to my ‘old self’, I’m currently working on that.

The end of 2019 was hard for me, as you know, never mind gaining weight in the middle of the weight loss journey. The diet had become so unhealthy, living on a steady stream of Bang Energy drinks, Adderall, peanut butter, bacon jerky and protein bars. Then losing my job right out of the blue was devastating and horribly unfair. If it wasn’t for my friends and church family, I wouldn’t have survived the nervous breakdown that came as a result of it. And luckily, despite actually crying in the middle of my job interview, I was able to become employed fairly quickly afterwards. But do you know how stressful it is starting a new job? I ate my way through the holidays and into the new year. I appreciate you hanging in there to finish your goal, hitting the 50^th race on New Year’s Eve, 2019. I was struggling by then, really struggling – but I still had you to be proud of. And I was trying so hard to rein in my poor eating habits and get back on track. I kept saying I was merely working on an “interesting chapter” of the book – you know, the part where we fell off the diet wagon due to life’s circumstances, then we dust ourselves off, get back in the race – pardon the pun – hit the weight loss goal and live happily ever after on the proceeds of my book and subsequent speaking tour…

And if the end of 2019 wasn’t bad enough, 2020 rolled around. With it came Covid, Cancelled Races, Work From Home, Shelter In Place, Quarantine, Isolation, Door Dash, Stimulus Money, Church Closings, Boredom, Loneliness, Binge-Eating, Napping, Depression, Anxiety, Hatred, Self-Loathing, Failure. The “interesting chapter” became a whole other book that needed to be written to explain my failure. And then, just like that, I lost another whole person – You. You were gone. And I’ve missed you. As of today I am 20 pounds away from where we all started. You are officially gone – and I can’t see you coming back.                                       

But! Sometime around the end of 2019 I met someone new. Her name is Jenny and she’s a counselor. After a doctor put me on meds to counterbalance my nervous break down after my job loss – he set me up with her. Turns out she knows a lot about binge-eating, eating disorders and body image issues. I would LOVE it if she had a magic formula so that I could just lose 100 pounds and at least superficially feel better about myself as long as the weight loss held up – but she doesn’t. She’s making me “put in the work”. In fact, I believe she’s trying to help me feel better about myself no matter what I weigh. Sister girl, this is a FOREIGN CONCEPT to me!! The doctor does agree that Counselor Jenny is on the right track, however, and urges me to stick with the girl! I just wish I could tap into some of the whatever it was that you had that drove you to obtain your goals back in 2019.

I’ve gotta get going. I really hate to tell you this – but Counselor Jenny tells me I need to let you go, my superstar, 2019 dream girl! Dwelling on you isn’t healthy for me. I can think of you fondly – as a good memory – but comparing 2021 ME to 2019 YOU isn’t fair to 2021 Me. And obsessing over 2019 You is causing me to move forward while looking backwards, dragging along the “used tos” and “if onlys” instead of reaching ahead for the “what’s nexts”. I do love you - and Sister 2018 - very much, but now I’m trying to look at current me with the same kind of love. It’s hard but I’m trying. Counselor Jenny and my Jesus are helping! Maybe we’ll meet up again some time in the future, but only if you’re willing to support and love me for ME and not for who you think I should be! Maybe we can go for a little run – even a walk would do! Until then, take care of yourself, understand that you are not the number on the scales, and it is ok to give yourself a break. Thank you for everything you did for me, and give your sister a hug… #whatdiabetes #50in2019 #iRan

 

All My Love,

2021 Me.

Debbie, Did You Know?

A couple of years ago a few of my church friends and I put together a little Christmas music set to lead the worship at the Gastonia Street Ministry. One of the songs was "Mary, Did You Know?". While working through an arrangement someone said out loud what we all were likely thinking ... "That's sort of a dumb question". She DID know - because an angel came to her ahead of time and told her that she would be giving birth to the Son of God. She knew he was going to be something special, at least. 

Much credit to the writer of the song though, it conjures up beautiful imagery of mother and child. The Savior of the world really was a cooing, precious infant cradled peacefully in his mother's arms. Mary held his hands, looked at his sweet little toes, her hair fell across his face as she kissed the top of his head. It's the stuff that "regular" moms do. The song has a way of putting us mothers in Mary's shoes for a moment. Our bodies just pulled off a miracle and we were exhausted from the pain and physicality of labor. But then we looked into the face of the most precious thing we had ever seen - and then we checked for all their fingers and toes.

Mary knew her baby Jesus was indeed the Son of God - but she might not have known exactly what that meant. I'm not sure she would have wanted to know His particular future. Would you as a mom want to know that your son - as good a kid as he was - was going to grow up to be slain by criminals to take the punishment for the crimes of others? Even though Jesus was on a mission to save the world - it had to be hard as His mother not to shield Him from harm - to hold her sweet baby tighter, maybe run off somewhere with Him and let someone else do that job. I can tell you as a mom myself - I would throw myself in front of a bus to protect my son. I'm sure most of you moms would say the same thing. Mary knew. She knew when her boy woke up every single morning - that the day could be his last. Jesus came to save the world - and Mary answered the call to be his mom. She had to let go of him. She let go of his perfect hands knowing He would be a sacrifice for all mankind.  I cannot imagine. She was a better mom than me.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends ~ John 15:13

December 13, 1994 Mark and Debbie Herndon welcomed their sweet baby into the world. They named him Tyler. I wonder if, while checking for all of his fingers and toes, she had any idea that her baby boy would grow up to answer a call not all would hear. Did she know that her baby boy would one day become a police officer? Did she ever know what her son would mean to the small community he worked for? Did she know that one day he would run into the face of danger, protecting those he vowed to serve? When she kissed her little baby she kissed the face of a hero.

Unlike Mary - she wasn't given any forehand knowledge. Like the rest of us moms - she just wanted the very best for her baby. She nurtured him, mothered him, protected him from harm, did the best she knew how to and ultimately raised a fine young man. I didn't know her son, and I don't know the family. I can only assume she was so proud - and justifiably worried at the same time when her son grew up and became a police officer. There are inherent dangers that come with the job. He knew the dangers - and I'm sure she did too. But she let him go - and by doing so we could all sleep a little safer at night. We as a community were all in good hands - the hands of her baby who had all of his sweet little fingers on that first day 26 years ago. She let go of his hands - knowing what that meant - that her son was working for us all.

Did she know when her son woke up on December 10, 2020 that he had slumbered for the last time? Did she know his last words to her would be a memory held in her heart forever? Did she know that her baby boy would die in the line of duty, again protecting the little town of Mount Holly by laying down his life? She knew it was a possibility - it's the nature of the job - but she let his perfect little hands go into the night for the last time. She knew it was his calling, she knew it was for the betterment of our town, for his team, for us all. In a night full of bad guys - we needed a good guy. As much as her son answered the call to protect and serve - she answered the call to be his mom. Her sacrifice was a tremendous one - and I, as a mother myself, am so grateful.

Rest in Peace, Officer Tyler Herndon. And to his precious family, may the Peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ.

Feed My Sheep

Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away. ~ 1 Peter 5:2-4

I looked up the word "Pastor" today - both its definition and the origin of the word. According to Webster's Dictionary, "Pastor" is "a spiritual overseer; especially a clergyman serving a local church or parish. Well, who am I to argue with Merriam Webster?! It's a "just the facts, ma'am" description - but that's a 'pastor'.  A spiritual overseer. Ok then.

According to Wikipedia "pastor" is derived from the Latin word pascere, meaning fed or grazed. Jeremiah 23:4 says  "And I will set up shepherds over them which shall feed them: and they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed, neither shall they be lacking, saith the Lord." ... That feels a little closer.

The Bible tells us in Psalm 95:7 that “He is our God and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care”. Jesus said in John 10:14 - “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me". And then we're told later in the Book of John, that the Resurrected Jesus told His Disciple Peter: "Peter, if you love me, feed my sheep". In other words - 'these are my people, Pastor. Take care of them as if they were your own - loving them, leading them by still waters, correcting their courses, tending to their wounds, guiding them to the green pastures where they can graze on the food of life. Rest them, care for them, go after them when they stray. And. Because you've taken on the role as "shepherd of the flock", Pastor, I'm going to hold you to a higher standard'. ... Now we're talking!

My Pastor is about as down-to-earth a guy as you'd ever want to meet. He's personable and friendly, and he's charmingly Southern. He's smart as a whip, steeped in knowledge of historical facts ... he could 'go there' with probably the most elite of Biblical scholars, religious teachers, etc., but when he's in the pulpit - he doesn't over complicate things. What's the point of preaching to someone if it's so complicated they give up before he gets to the 'good stuff'?!  I love this about him - he's honest, he laughs at himself, he wears jeans with holes in them sometimes, and he's well-versed in 80's music and pop culture. What's not to love? I've never met a person who ever had a bad thing to say about him. That says a lot about my pastor.

I started going to my church right when he came on board there as the lead pastor. I feel like he and I have been growing up together ever since. HE'S come a long way! But I've come a longer way still, following my pastor - as he follows the Good Shepherd, and obeying Him when He says "feed my sheep".

He's my example as I've watched him lay his fears at the foot of the cross. I've seen him on his knees at the altar and I've seen him crying in grief. He was raised by a single mom - I've found great comfort in this as a single mom myself. His mother is a source of hope for me. His father-in-law is my emergency contact, his wife is a light of Christian beauty and I've watched his kids grow up. I've seen him fight off the enemy, I've seen him tenderly embrace a grieving widow, feed homeless people, carry school supplies to poor children and I've seen him 'fist bump' the worship pastor, and high-five the youth.  I've seen him mad and I've seen him sad. I've seen him happy...

I've seen him broken...

I've seen him be manhandled...

I've seen him muddy...

Um - I've seen this...

He baptized me. He Baptized my son...

He spent time with me while my mother was in the hospital her final time - soothing my crushed soul and providing comfort to my worried mind.  He prayed over me and prayed for her. And when the time finally came, he prayed over her body as her soul entered the gates of Heaven. And then he loved on my family - as if they were just a part of the extended flock! As far as pastors go, I have to say I think he's one of the best!!  He means a great deal to me - and I have to believe that he's done countless good things for the other sheep in the fold. 

As far as the Merriam Webster definition of "pastor", I guess all the things he's done for me and the rest of us sheep - is really just "part of the job", along with sermon prep, weddings and funerals and other 'church related stuff'. I'm not trying to tell his business - but he does get paid!

But besides all the wonderful things he's done for me as a 'guy just doing his job', I wonder if he has any idea just how much the Holy Spirit uses him in my life?! Does he have any idea that he is a vessel, filled by God Himself and used to pour out His word into my heart? Does he even get it that when the Holy Spirit comes down on me in a way that I can't even describe - and is ushered straight into my soul - it comes right through him? I wonder how it feels to be a powerful tool in God's toolbox, or a weapon used to cut down the enemy on my behalf? Has it ever dawned on him that he's a mouthpiece? A microphone? A trumpet blasting into my ears the WORD of GOD?!! He has obeyed God - and taken on the job of feeding me the spiritual food that I need for sustenance. It's a big responsibility. Does he get the enormity of that?! I wonder if it ever occurred to him while on his knees in a trailer in Cullowhee, when He surrendered his life to Christ and ultimately accepted the call to pastor this church - what he was taking on when he opened up the pen and let me into the flock. 

Lately the Holy Spirit has been speaking so strongly to me through my pastor's sermons. And today, while feverishly jotting down more "nuggets" of Good News my God wanted me to hear, it washed over me that this guy is so humble, he just has no idea. Bless his heart! 

This is Easter weekend - and in 3 days my pastor has preached a 'homegoing' celebration for one of the dear sisters of the church, and preached a Good Friday service with Communion. Through his encouragement and his amplifying "love in action", he rallied an amazing team of church volunteers and a worship pastor (who must be the most organized person in history) to host a MASSIVE Easter Celebration and Egg Hunt on Saturday, the likes our town has never seen!! The numbers: 16,000 Easter Eggs stuffed with candy and goodies, 1000 pounds of Pork Barbecue, 500 Hotdogs, all the trimmings of a festival, and an estimated 3000 people from our community came and enjoyed - for free - what our little church put together! And then today - Sunrise Service, a 9am Service and 3 baptisms in our 11am Service.  And there he was in that 11am service - all unaware - that God was straight-up putting him to work as the special messenger delivering another package of truth and love into my heart. The Holy Spirit was on him, in him, all around him, using him - for me. I was compelled to come home from today's sermon and write about it. I wanted to let him know that I appreciate him - sure. But I also believe that God appreciates him too - and there is indeed a crown of glory on a shelf in Heaven - with his name on it. 

So God Bless my Pastor!  And if you're just a lost sheep wandering around out there - come to my pasture and my shepherd will let you in the gate.  

On This Date

On this date, six years ago an early spring had sprung. That particular morning was glorious! The sun was bright and the dew glistened brightly over the lush carpet of green grass. I remember the Bradford Pear trees being in full bloom while lining the quiet streets, and the Tulips and Daffodils were on full display. The air smelled like Rosemary. Just stepping outside that morning made my heart smile; as I was serenaded with precious songs sung by a sky full of happy-sounding birds. I remember the sleep in my eyes and the smell of my first cup of coffee. I had taken a few minutes to enjoy the morning, sitting in a garden swing with the warm sun shining fully on my face. I remember that day clearly – thinking it was going to be a beautiful day! And let’s face it – I don’t care where you’re from or where you’ve ever been, but you simply cannot beat springtime in the Carolinas!

There was a thing in the garden called a Prayer Labyrinth. It was a path made from beautifully crafted stepping stones – each different, full of brightly colored mosaics of glass, stones, ceramic tiles, pebbles and shells. The path didn’t lead to anywhere, just wound around in and out of itself in a giant circle. Standing on each stepping stone would conjure up some kind of thought – probably very personal for each person who’s ever stepped on one. And with each stepping stone I landed on, I prayed. With God’s artistry of nature on full display and well-lit by the beaming rays of the sun, I was walking with my Jesus right here on earth – ushered into His presence with each step that I took. The stones and shimmering glass were mesmerizing. My heart was experiencing the peace given to me by the Holy Spirit. He was there. He was all around and I could feel Him. The day was one you wished would never end, but the clock ticked, and the minutes of that day were passing in what seemed to be double time.

Just like a Carolina Springtime is like none other, they are also unpredictable! As spectacular a day as it started out to be, it wasn’t long before dark clouds started to roll into the blue skies. Rumbles of thunder were breaking the distant silence, slowly and barely audible at first. There was a storm coming. As it drew closer the skies grew darker still, the winds picked up and the louder claps of thunder rattled the windows. Lightning streaked across the grey skies. I pulled the blinds closed – it was a frightening storm and I didn’t want to see it. The wind-driven rain pounded against the glass, the cracking thunder and lightning flashes caused me to tremble. I knew we were safe, I felt protected but the storm was so bad. It was the worst storm I had seen in a while but right in the midst of that storm, the skies really did open up and the Angels in Heaven rejoiced!! And peace fell on me that only comes from Jehovah Shalom, the Prince of Peace. There was indeed a sweet, sweet spirit in the place – and I knew it was the Spirit of the Lord.

With Mother Nature keeping us forever on our toes that time of year, as quickly as that storm came up, it moved out just as fast. The rains died down and the winds calmed. Tears were rolling down my face as I sat in the silence of the moment and I was so grateful for the Amazing Grace afforded to us by God! I was dwelling in peace that surpasses all understanding. Despite the storm – the day was still beautiful and one to remember as one where sickness and pain ended and the old was made new again.

With the skies still dark from the swollen rain clouds, God decided to make Himself visible! Just like He promised He would in Genesis 9:13, He set his rainbow in the clouds. Rainbows broke out all over the Carolinas, from Lake Wylie to Raleigh, God’s prisms of hope stretched out in every direction!! And just so I wouldn’t miss them, my friends - knowing that I had a special thing for rainbows, were sending me pictures of the rainbows they were seeing all over the place!! It was a spectacular show of God’s beauty and if refracted sunlight could be love – then I was definitely being loved!!

Lake Wylie, March 24

Kannapolis, March 24

Albemarle, March 24

Mt. Holly, March 24

West Charlotte, March 24

Gastonia, March 24

Monroe, March 24

Lake Norman, March 24

 It was on this date 6 years ago that a local photographer happened to be in the perfect spot when the most awe-inspiring, massive, massive rainbow completely encircled the skyline of the city! Queen City Charlotte placed the magnificent crown of color atop her majestic head in her coronation, dazzling in the eyes of all her beholders! The photographer captured an image that spread all over social media – and by that evening the local weatherman featured the photo on the news.   (I have heard there is a very large print of that rainbow on the wall in the office of the weatherman.) I’ll never forget the day!

Charlotte, March 24

The dark clouds cleared away and the rain stopped. I went outside just to see if I could catch a glimpse of any rainbows myself. They were all gone. But I looked into the most beautiful sky of Carolina Blue that I had ever seen, filled with fluffy, crisp white clouds. The sun was setting and the glittering yellow rays of Old Sol gave way to fiery gold blazing through the trees on the horizon. The day was winding down – minutes ticking, ticking, ticking away on this date 6 years ago.  I was so tired but I was resting comfortably in the arms of the Holy Spirit. I finally prayed myself to sleep.

Huntersville, March 24

That night 6 years ago Matthew had spent the night with friends. The next morning I went to pick him up. And just like I remember well “on this date” 6 years ago today, 6 years ago tomorrow is also one I’ll never forget.  Matthew was happy to see me when I walked in – but his smile faded away. “You said you weren’t going to leave Nana while she was in the hospital”, he said. Concern spread over his face – I could see worry in his precious eyes.  And I knew that he knew.

“Well,” I said. “I need to…”

“Nana died, didn’t she?”, he interrupted me with tears spilling down his puffy cheeks.

I was crying too – I couldn’t really get any more words out. We sat down on a love seat in our friend’s sunroom. I hugged him as he cried for his beloved Nana. I didn’t say anything to him – it was just silent except for him snubbing into the armpit of my shirt. I didn’t know what to say at a time like that. It was the first time the boy had experienced loss and I didn’t want to do or say anything wrong – so I just didn’t say anything at all. I just waited on him to speak next.

He looked up at me. I was expecting him to ask me “where did she go” or “will he ever get to see her again” – you know, the stuff that kids ask at a time like this. But instead he asked me “When did she go?” I wasn’t exactly sure of the time  - and wasn’t exactly sure he even had a good concept of time? To me the question was weird.

Knowing those rainbows had covered the Carolinas the day before, I just took a chance hoping they also showed up in Belmont where he was staying… “Did you happen to see that big rainbow in the sky yesterday?” I asked him.

His eyes widened, “YES!” he responded.

“I was hoping you did”, I told him. “As soon as Nana got to Heaven she sent you that rainbow – just to let you know she got there ok.”

He smiled.  And then he questioned, “Why would she send ME a rainbow?”

I smiled back and said “Why would she send it to anyone else?!”

On this date – March 24, 2012 – God covered the sky with Becky’s Rainbow and I’ll never forget it!

Sunrise, March 25

Chapter: Thorn in my Flesh

2 Corinthians 12:6-10 says: "Even if I should choose to boast, I would not be a fool, because I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so no one will think more of me than is warranted by what I do or say, or because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness". Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." ~ The Apostle Paul. Mic Drop.

Before I get into this post, I must state this: I am in no way, shape or form even remotely trying to compare myself to the Apostle Paul! I mean - this guy wrote 1/2 the New Testament! He was, well, PAUL. The only thing we have in common is, we both tend to express ourselves through writing and we're both sinners - saved by the Grace. And that's about it. Oh. And that whole "thorn in the flesh" thing.

I have battled my weight my whole life. Even when I was skinny I still felt like the biggest girl in the room - and I hated it. "Hate" isn't really strong enough a word for how I felt. I had a deep-seeded revulsion for what I saw in the mirror. And well, it wasn't long before I hated myself for it. I'm not sure where body image perception comes from. I'm no psychologist. All I know is that when I was old enough to even know what "fat" was - I felt like I was it. By the time I was a teenager - without having an official diagnoses - I very definitely had an eating disorder. (I've "googled" the symptoms and low-and-behold, there I am!)

Over the years my battle of the budge has had me trying every infomercial product, reading 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 attended Over-eaters Anonymous, considered surgery - and would have done it if I had the money, gone to medical weight loss centers, put magnets in my shoes and starved myself. I've vomited, taken laxatives and I've exercised 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 and even cocaine 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 have blamed everything there was to blame for being fat for 30+ years and I had all but given up. I finally just resorted to praying for a miracle. "Jesus, please just help me be less fat." I have actually prayed the words - just like Paul - "Lord, take this thorn from me", thinking it would give me a "I know the Word" edge. Nothing. Still fat. And getting fatter by the minute.  And then wondering "What the heck, God? Answer my prayer already". (I don't even feel right saying that!) I gained up to 315 pounds and was ultimately diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes.

I've said it before - but just to be clear - I think that ultimately God did indeed answer my prayer to help me lose weight with a diagnoses of diabetes. There's no doubt that I've lost a good amount of weight in a fairly short time - and it hasn't even really been that hard! Because I was afraid of the potentially deadly disease, I finally climbed off the couch and back to the battlefield to go to war with my out-of-control weight. Funny how the fear of death will give you a little needed motivation! Other than that (and let's face it, that's a pretty big one!) but other than that - the only difference this time around, and something I can attribute some of my success to, is Social Media. I just decided - almost on a whim - to post everything on Facebook. I figured if anyone "out there" was reading about my progress - then I was being 'watched' and had to mind myself! Turns out a lot of people started watching!

Over the course of the last 10 weeks, many good things have happened so far. 40.4 pounds (as I write this) of weight loss, 40 inches from various combined spots, 3 pants sizes, even a shoe size. I've gone from actually struggling to stand up from the couch to going 30 minutes on the Elliptical Machine at the gym. Best of all is that I was able to get my Glucose Level into the normal range in 4 days, without medication! My A1C went from 10 to 6.2 and my doctor said I was no longer considered diabetic! Health back in order? Check. I could have stopped right then! But the people were watching. And now seemed to be pulling for me. I really couldn't stop. Understand this - I HATE BEING FAT. I HATE MYSELF FOR BEING FAT. I ALWAYS HAVE. AND THE HATE IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE. But now all of a sudden I find myself putting the thing I hate the most out there for all to see - "fat pictures", my actual weight, my pants size, what I eat in a day, how I nearly died riding the elliptical machine at the gym. What the heck?! But I can't stop now. To stop now feels like I'd be letting someone down! (Nevermind letting myself down - what if a Facebook friend is on the edge of their seat waiting on my next weight check in?!!) I swear dieting is SO MENTAL!

Funny how God can work in your life. I really don't believe in "coincidences" - I believe that God is in charge of everything that happens. If it's something that leaves you scratching your head, I think it's God revealing Himself in the things around you! So, by design I believe, at the same time my Pastor started a new sermon series, people started noticing this "weight loss journey" of mine. Many people started offering "thumbs up" and awesome words of encouragement. Which is great for motivation! But also people started contacting me privately, wanting information on the diet I was on or just to share their own struggles. People started to call me an "inspiration". What in the world!! 4 months ago I got on the floor to spread out a skirt under my Christmas Tree and I swear I could not get up. I was thinking about that poor gal on the Life-Alert commercials who, you know, fell and couldn't get up and I didn't want to have to call the fire department. I crawled my way over to some sturdy furniture and climbed up it enough to plop down in the chair. How humiliating. (and I hated myself for such a thing). But now I've inspired someone! People are listening to me - of all people - as some kind of diet person! And let me say this as loudly as I can ... TO GOD BE THE GLORY! I cannot tell you how happy I am that 2 different people have told me they too have lost weight - and thanked me for the nudge to get off their own couches. I've shared my diet with many people and I'm actually going to have a lady over to the house to teach her the plan. These things make me excited to talk about weight loss - and you can't really talk about "weight loss" without talking about weight gain. Being "fat" is an "opportunity" to lose weight, get healthy, talk about it, make friends, inspire someone, and Glorify God!  WHO KNEW?! Certainly not me - until today's sermon - that talked about Paul and his thorn. Perfect timing!!  Coincidence? I think not.

Last week I wrote about my "diet testimony" being forever intertwined with my "Christian testimony". Last week that was 'fine with me'. You know - everybody's got their story. But today I was reminded that His grace was sufficient for me and His power was made perfect in weakness. My weakness. My thorn!! Being fat wasn't exactly the 'blessing' I was looking for - but all of a sudden I was thankful just the same! I have a thing I can pin-point as my weakness and I can see as clearly as I'm sitting here God working through it!  My thorn is a visual one (it weighs about 100 pounds right now!) but if I could quote my pastor Jason Marlowe, this thorn - my weakness - is a "platform for God's awesome power to be displayed"!!  I feel like I've been chosen for something great! I'm actually, honestly excited to be the biggest girl in the room!! Who knows how many people might listen to my testimony because of my weight problem?! And then they could see clearly the hand of God working through me! What a testimony!! I mean think about this - if I wasn't ever fat or never ate my way to diabetes what would I even talk about?! Once being 315 pounds gives my weight loss some weight! And I swear this revelation just came over me during a 30 minute sermon this morning.

I've been absolutely beside myself with gratitude today. An in-your-face encounter with the Holy Spirit has a way of doing that!! I'm grateful for my spiritual gift  - the gift of encouragement - and my opportunity to use it through my "thorn". I am humbled to the core that God chose me for this mission and sorry that I didn't embrace it sooner. I am confident that if I include God in every aspect of this attempt to finally get healthy once and for all, I simply will not fail. Because even when I'm at my very weakest - His power is strongest. What's your thorn? Whatever it may be - let God work through it! Be confident in His perfect plan for your life - and let His power be made perfect in your weakness!

Chapter Two ~ Diabetes to Romans 8:28

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. ~ Romans 8:28.

Romans 8:28 is my all time favorite Bible verse. I found it - or it found me - six years ago in a time and place of great sorrow in my life.  My mom had just died, leaving me as the last one alive from the "Bishop, Party of Four". I was overcome with grief - at the loss of my mom, but also my Bishop Family, our home, life as I knew it, even dishes and furniture and stuff that I couldn't keep.  I had never felt so lost in my life.  Thankfully, I had a couple of things going for me at that time - a doctor who insisted I get on some anti-depressants, and a church family who surrounded me with love and support. I'm sure it had to be one of my church brothers or sisters who introduced me to Romans 8:28, probably as an exclamation point to a pep talk or an attempt to help me feel better. Whatever way the verse came into my life - I have hung onto it with both hands, sometimes while "white-knuckling" through some hardship, a test, or some unexplained happening. It's been my "go to verse" for everything from that debilitating grief to a broken toenail to everything in between.

A few years ago I decided to get that entire Bible Verse tattooed down my back. I felt like it was a permanent declaration that yes, I believe in this! I staked the claim that this is my Word from God - that no matter how bad a thing I faced, He was using it for the good - for me (because I love Him and I've been called according to His purpose!) I'm not sure why I put it down my back - where I can't readily see it. I should have put it in the palm of my empty hand so I could close my fingers around it and cling to the blessing it really is ~ God's promise of good things to come even in the midst of something bad.

Now, as sure as I am of this verse right this minute - remembering it in the middle of a storm is still sometimes difficult. It's in my heart, I believe it to be the Word of God and therefore true, but knowing it and living  it out daily takes work! Sometimes the wheels of life take you so far off course it doesn't even dawn on you that something is going on in your world that even constitutes an "all things" that will eventually be used for the "good of those who love Him...".

And then, there was last summer. Last summer crept up on me in a bad way. I can't explain it - other than it seemed to suck, like a perfect storm of suck-ery. I was struggling financially, spiritually I was as far as I'd ever been from God, mentally off-kilter with rapid occurrences of my depression episodes, and physically I felt worse than I ever had. My energy was low, my joints ached, I was having hot flashes and night sweats, even my vision was bad - and getting worse by the day. But even worse than all of that (and all that was bad), I had a massive spike in my weight! OH GAWD NO!!  ANYTHING BUT THAT!!!  I would honestly rather take a beating than gain another pound. The more fat I became the less good about myself I felt. The eating disorder runs deep with this one...

At that time, I'd been overweight for a while - but I was holding steady at the same weight. Suddenly I was packing on pounds out of nowhere, gaining it mostly in my stomach. I grew out of all of my "fat clothes".  It's a bad day when your fattest, fat clothes don't fit you anymore. Romans 8:28 - sure - but I felt like Lieutenant Dan on top of Forrest Gump's shrimpin' boat screaming at God to gimmie some more! (Don't ever do that, by the way, because He can and He will...). I made a doctor's appointment for blood work, thinking I was going through menopause. I was actually pulling for a rip-roaring hormonal imbalance to explain all of this - and something to 'fix'. Once there, the scales killed whatever "umpf" I might have had left - checking in at 315 pounds. I didn't just cross that 300 pound threshold, I kicked that door down with my fat, bloated foot. It was devastating, a 40 pound weight gain out of nowhere and my doctor used the words "morbidly obese" to describe me. I felt so horrible I just wanted Jesus to make like the Price is Right and come on down - I was done. I just wanted to crawl my fat behind up into bed and die. It. Was. That. Bad.

I have had weight demons my whole life. Even when I was skinny I thought I was fat. I could write a whole book about my eating disorder, love/hate relationship with food, body image, obsession with scales and weight and clothes. But I hadn't 'practiced' my disorder in years. In my depressed state - I had pretty much resigned myself to being fat. I didn't care and didn't see any reason to try to fix it. I was just going to be fat and hate myself for it. The only effort I put into any weight loss was praying for God to help me not be fat.  I prayed that every day, I'm sure. Twice on Sundays. And He's answered my prayers by giving me every thing I've ever needed to get healthy - smarts to understand nutrition, legs to walk, stubborn willpower, money for groceries, cheap gym memberships, even a rambunctious dog that needed to be walked often. But I guess instead of realizing any of that - I had gotten to the point that I just wanted to wallow around in my morbid obesity and hope He'd remove the fat from me.

Enter the Holy Spirit...

Romans 8:26 says ".... the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans". When the doctor's office gave me the results of my blood work, diabetes was the LAST thing I expected. But in hindsight it makes perfect sense. It never dawned on me to pray for diabetes, but my prayer of "help me not be fat" was answered with that life-altering diagnoses.

Believe me, I'm not minimizing diabetes. And I'm certainly not suggesting everyone with it just go around happy about it, thumbing their noses at their meds expecting a low-carb miracle! But I am asking you to consider your own life-altering diagnoses, whatever it may be, as an "all thing" that God is using for your good. He didn't do this to me - He's doing it through me to glorify Him. My hope in Him grows more evident with each pound I shed, with every smaller pair of pants I get into, and with every normal glucose reading I measure. It certainly looks like my Christian testimony and my weight loss testimony will forever be intertwined - making even the thing I HATE worse than anything in this whole world - being fat - an "all thing". (See what He did there?!) #whatdiabetes