Confession

I have a confession to make ~ hanging head in shame ~... I started a diet.
Uhg. Yes, remember when I ranted and raved about diets and how we women are worth more than a number on a scale? Ahah, yeah, turns out I caved. And, worse, I'm spending a lot of money on this diet. So not only have a broken a personal soap box standard, but I have given in to "the man".
I know, you're shocked, thinking "How could this happen"... well I felt like crap, that's how it happened. I didn't feel like myself, I was shying away from cameras, people, love. So I decided to take the plunge, and start a diet "Take Shape For Life" is what its called. And so far, after 3 weeks I've lost 13.2 lbs.    Which only means I have 50 or so more to go (I am chuckling to myself at the enormity of that number).
As much as I feel ashamed for caving to the man, and to society's view of body image. I feel hopeful, for the first time in a long time. And I feel in control of what I eat, which is an out of body experience in and of itself.  I also gave up any and all alcohol. Yes, that's right, you read correctly: I have not had a drink in 3 weeks. That was rough.But I'm gaining some clarity now. Its funny that my obsession with food, and having to have a drink or so a several nights a week were as in control of me, as dieting had been for all those years.
I think what bothered me about the entire weight situation, is that I did not want my worth to be wound up in my weight. I recently heard some one near and dear to me say, "if you're weight's not right, then nothing in your life is right"... and to me that's really sad. I do so much, and love so much, and give so much... at the end of the day the number on the scale does not cancel that out, but it can inhibit it. I feel like the yoke was broken however, largely by my husband. I approached him about my feelings in an e-mail, too ashamed to look him in the eye and tell him that I felt terrible about myself, I asked him just to be patient and support me by helping me pay for it. In return he replied, "You should always know that I love you, and I think you're beautiful and there are never any strings attached to that. If it means that much to you, you can have my wallet." And in the exact moment that dieting and weight has always been a burden, it was a source of hope because I knew I had unconditional love.
So I am on a journey, and I'd appreciate your love and prayers, particularly if we're out at the bar and you see me with a giant class of water as opposed to a giant.. beautiful.. refreshing..delicious glass of beer ;).

Rain

You know.. blogs never happen how you think they will.. Atleast not with me. I have all these catchy blog titles in my head, and things I want to write about, and I never do and then voila! It hits me! I need to write, or I'll either wither or explode.
I'm laying here staring at the ceiling, as my husband sleeps that happy-man kind of sleep beside me. And I can't close my eyes, but to blink for a second. I can't get my mind off of this little girl I met today, a new client. I can't stop thinking about the way this tween bounced on the couch when we came in and she asked us "what we wanted to know".. and then how the terror poured out of her mouth, when she started talking. The hurt, the violence, the fear inflicted on her by her mother. Her visions, are seemingly now my visions, as I lay here awake and stare at the ceiling. I can't stop thinking about when her chin started to quiver, and I knew there was so much hurt inside of her, its like I could see her face turn white/gray/dark. And I can't stop thinking how I had no words.. yeah, me, no words... there was not a single word I could offer her, besides "I'm sorry, you've had to go through this" as I was leaving.
She shook my hand when I was walking towards the foyer, she looked out the window, and she said, "Oh no, its going to rain.. ya know, my middle name is Rain". And I said, yes I know and asked how she got it. Her father who was there with us also, said "I just always liked the rain, its cleansing... I wanted to marry her mother in the rain, and so we named her rain..."
And now, as I lay hear thinking through all this, I think of this couple, getting married in the rain and how beautiful and romantic. And this little baby they named after their romance. And it humbles me incredibly. Because my first reaction, as many of my first reactions are, was to find this woman myself and seek some justice. But this little girl wasn't always this way, and her mother wasn't always that way, and that made me think.. wow... there's no telling it couldn't be me, or some one close to me, today, tomorrow, or twenty years from now.
Now, here's where you probably are going to think I'm cracked.. but, for the most part, people aren't born child abusers. On the way out to see this client, I was griping to my mom about this visit, and she said to me, almost prophetically "ya know, hurt people, hurt people". And I think about that now, and it stops me from grabbing my pitchfork and calling together all the village people and finding this woman who abused her daughter. Because I know there was happiness, and that hurting some one doesn't come out of nothing. And it could  as easily have been me, had i been hurt, left, abandoned, betrayed, impoverished, disowned, unloved, humiliated, or broken in any other way.
Now, please don't think I'm excusing this woman's actions. I am just acknowledging that nothing is ever as it seems, and for every action there is a reaction, and in this case I would say for every reaction there's a former action. It does me no good, and my client no good, whatsoever, to stew over the evilness of someone. After all, its not my justice to be had. I have to move from my passion, to my compassion. And pray, for rain.

Ok so I was just about to write an angry facebook status, when I remembered that I had a blog.
Here's what I'm angry about... The constant whining about gas prices. Yep, they're high. Gotcha. I drive several hundred miles a week to go to school. And then I hear it reflecting back on our economy, and how our government, this and that, and blahditty, blah, blah, blah.

This is normally when steam starts coming out of my ears, and I so kindly want to offer some perspective to the Debby Downers of our cush American lifestyle.
First of all... your complaining about the price it costs to drive your car, wherever the heck you want to go. You have a car! And the freedom to go places! Hurray number one!
Secondly... The gas prices began creeping up because of civil war in the Middle East. Countries that have been ruled for centuries, are rising up and demanding democracy. There's a social revolution going on (which would be hurray number two)! And these people are risking life and limb to get it! Hundreds if not thousands have been slaughtered so that these people (yep, people just like you and me) can have representation in their government. Wow! That's some heavy stuff. Are we so short sighted that we forget the pains its taken our country to get to where it is. You do not have the freedoms you enjoy just because you were born here. It is on the backs of some one else's sacrifice that you have the opportunity to complain as you do. What sickens me the most, is thinking that hundreds are giving up their lives for freedom, and our gas prices raise $.20-$.40 and WE think its the end of the world. Sheesh. And its so easy to pretend that there's this war going on "over there".. and we forget that "over there" is made up of people: of moms, dads, babies, college students, etc. People, with stories, like you and me.
And last of all, our government... its seems to be the thing people like to blame and complain about most as of late. And here's what I'd like to say. If you don't like it, do something about it. Do not sit on your hands and grumble and complain. Write a letter, make some noise, make a phone call. We live in a democracy. Which means, its our government and they should be representative of the people (hurray numero tres). Its your voice that needs to be heard, and that doesn't end at the polls once some one has been voted into office. You'd be surprised how very few letters it takes to get a legislator's attention. Accountability is something we are always under our quota on it seems. And its easiest to blame the government, acting like they're some imaginary source out there that we do not have any say in. And use the cop out "well, you can't complain if you didn't vote". I'm sorry, but if you think that we vote and then we get to turn our backs for the term that the individual is in office, you are part of the problem.

Ok, so now I'm getting a little carried away. My point is, right now, you could be in Japan (who at the time of writing this was just rocked with that massive earthquake and tsunami), you could be in Libya. But you're not, you're here and you're safe.. so safe, that you're reading this from a computer screen. Put it into perspective. You have choice, you can adjust, you can act, so do it.

I am who I am for a Purpose

       Brent (the aforementioned amazing husband) and I started doing a devotional together (yeah, you know you're jealous of the intimacy). At the end of today's reading it said: "Knowing that God uniqely created me, what areas of my personality, background, and phsycial appearance am I struggling to accept?".......
BBBBBBBahahahahaha... How about, like, everything!
        You know its funny, because I have been having these pep talks with myself about myself lately (yes, I know I'm slightly narcissistic). Since I've started grad school I've been learning about myself, and there are alot of things about me I didn't know. There are many days that I feel like I'm unlikeable for one reason or another, and being unliked sits really poorly with me. I have learned that I am occasionally tactless, excruciatingly talkative, endlessly passionate, undyingly compassionate, occasionally a heel, motherly, optimistic, on and on and on and on.
       I feel like a lot of people either love me or hate me, its either "Christina overload" or "Christina just what I needed". I remember growing up and kids calling me "weird". I recently was caught off guard when I found a card sent from a class mate in highschool that said, "Christina, some day you'll surprise us all". In retrospect this sounds like, "hey Christina, you're a dork, but you may turn out ok, and wow will we be surprised!" Haha.
       Admittedly, I am silly. I have always been the funny girl in the pretty girl crowd. I ooze personality, and some people don't care to be oozed on. And some people don't like unfiltered honesty.
      Here's what you don't know though (I shouldn't say that maybe, some of you may know this). Is that I was made this way for a reason. I believe beyond a shadow of doubt that, that which is in my personality that has conspired against me to seem "quirky", is ACTUALLY part of a great design, and a great purpose. I believe my passion will be used for big things, my compassion to spread the big things around, my talkativeness to deliver a message, my tactlessness to confront falsehood. Sure, I could use some refinement. I'm not perfect, and I could use A LOT of growth. However, to the individuals that I will "surprise someday", I say "why?" All this... this package right here... is a purposeful design.


"The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; you love, O Lord, endures forever -do not abandon the works of your hands." Psalms 138:8... and then you might as well read Psalms 139 while you're there ;)

yeah, I like it like that.

Isaiah 58

True Fasting

 ¹ “Shout it aloud, do not hold back.
   Raise your voice like a trumpet.
Declare to my people their rebellion
   and to the descendants of Jacob their sins.
² For day after day they seek me out;
   they seem eager to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that does what is right
   and has not forsaken the commands of its God.
They ask me for just decisions
   and seem eager for God to come near them.
³ ‘Why have we fasted,’ they say,
   ‘and you have not seen it?
Why have we humbled ourselves,
   and you have not noticed?’    “Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please
   and exploit all your workers.
⁴ Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife,
   and in striking each other with wicked fists.
You cannot fast as you do today
   and expect your voice to be heard on high.
⁵ Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
   only a day for people to humble themselves?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
   and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
   a day acceptable to the LORD?
 ⁶ “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
   and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
   and break every yoke?
⁷ Is it not to share your food with the hungry
   and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
   and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
⁸ Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
   and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness^[a] will go before you,
   and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
⁹ Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
   you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
   “If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
   with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
¹⁰ and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
   and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
   and your night will become like the noonday.
¹¹ The LORD will guide you always;
   he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
   and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
   like a spring whose waters never fail.
¹² Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
   and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
   Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.

an ode to diets

Recently I was telling some one near and dear to me that I had decided to not eat meat for a time, simply because I have a very low tolerance for gore right now in my life. I asked them if they had any information, and the first thing they told me about was a "diet" plan they heard. WHAT?!  I'm sorry, did you not hear me, I'm not eating meat because I've seen and heard of too many beaten bodies lately, to put a piece of meat in my mouth! But I digress... Why does it always come down to a diet? Why does it seem to be the solution for everything? I am done with diets. Done, done, done, done done. I am done with constantly thinking of the calorie count that goes in my mouth, and the fat percentage in my milk. I'm done discussing my weight, and how its not where its "supposed" to be. I am tired of sitting down with people, and listening to the new approach their taking this month, listening to them tally what they've eaten, or not eaten, how much they lost, or how much they didn't. Listen friends, don't you think you're more important than that? So many facets of your beautiful life, and you let your ups and downs be run by the ups and downs of your scale? I'm tired of feeling that if I don't lose weight, I've failed. Sit back and think about it for a minute.... I've failed? It doesn't even make sense. I'm a mother of two beautiful children, I'm in love with an incredible man, I have a degree and I'm working on another, I have a warm house and a car that runs (most of the time). This doesn't sound like failure. I am healthy, and yet, this is the message that we are bombarded with constantly, because of what? a number on a scale. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of my self-worth amounting to my weight. I'm tired of your self-worth amounting to it as well.
And I'm tired of accepting other ideals as my own. My husband loves me, and he's attracted to me. As far as I'm concerned, until he tells me differently I'm right where I'm supposed to be. Don't get me wrong. I will eat healthy, I'll eat my veggies and plenty of them. I'll walk outside and exercise because it makes me feel good.
Perhaps if I'm released from this demon of  "the diet", I will not longer be possessed by the need to equate what I eat with my happiness or lack there of in life.
And think about it, we're worried we're eating too much? How blessed are we to live in such a "fattened-calf" of a land, that we can obsess over what goes in our mouths. To think that my eating too much, may take away from some one else, or employ some one at a very low paid fast food job so that I can have quick-fix happiness in a burger and fries. Its like soft porn, the giving up of pride for a moment of enticement.This is much more heart wrenching, then my adding another layer to my hips. How egocentric could we get?
I feel that I'm beginning to digress again, as I normally do when I start talking about the plight of the world.
Anyways, I'm done with it. I'm done with dieting. I'm going to eat like a normal person, and I'm going to let my gut determine what goes in it. That is all.

Grandma

This morning my grandma passed away. Its a funny thing losing a grandparent. When my grandfather died, I didn't shed a single tear. Last night when I called my mom and was told my grandmother was on her way out, I couldn't keep the tears from coming. And when I think about it, its not because I will miss her and having her in my life (and for that matter didn't miss my grandfather). Truth be told she's been gone emotionally for a number of years now. Now that she has passed physically from this world however, its like I sense a loss of some other kind. Like a tremendous buffer that I once had is gone, that the perfection of child hood is really over. You see my grandma loved me unconditionally, really, honestly and truly unconditionally. She and my grandfather always crowed over my sister and I, about how beautiful we were, and how smart we were, etc, etc... And its not that we were particularly smart, or beautiful, its that some one, honestly and truly believed we were. And don't get me wrong, my parents were amazing and loved me similarly. But parents have to correct you and be the bad guy. Aside from wanting to put Vicks up my nose when I was sick, I don't ever remember my grandma correcting me or telling me what to do. That wasn't her job. I think when you know you're loved by some one, it makes you stand a little taller, a little stronger, knowing that some one thinks your perfect, makes you feel less like crap when other people don't. Its a buffer. So I decided I was going to start a list here of all the non-remarkable things my grandma did. Because what made her great was not that she did anything super fantastic, it was how she loved us in all the seemingly unremarkable ways.
My grandma: put big chunks of cheese in my vegetable soup, made me cinnamon toast at 4 in the morning, played scrabble with us out on her deck, always had a pyrex pitcher of tea on her counter, taught me how to crochet and made me blanket after blanket, believed every stitch was a kiss, made mint tea from the garden, knew how to make the longest peels when peeling apples, froze everything under the sun and always had some soup in the freezer, made Easter bunny cakes with flaked coconut and even added raisins trailing behind the bunny, scratched my back for hours and hours and hours and hours, never let us walk around with out socks on because we'd get a cold, called me honey.. called everybody honey, played cards for hours, threw noodles on the wall to see if they were done, loved my grandfather for over 50 years of marriage, grew raspberries in her back yard, burnt the skins off of peppers, always packed us sandwiches and cookies for the ride home (even if you were afraid to eat the ham in the dark for fear of the gristle-y bites), used terms like "creamy good" and "creamy rich", tried to put Vicks up my nose, used to bring an air mattress and sleep on our living room floor and wait for us to lay on it and deflate it,  ....