A Letter

Little One,

I didn't know it was possible to miss someone I've never met, until you. 

January 5th, 2017. The day I should be meeting you is fast approaching. Yes, I know, babies are not often born on their due dates, but it's the only birthday I know to give you.

It kind of sneaked up on me, not because I'd forgotten you, but because grief comes in waves and sometimes waves are low and steady, or far away in the distance. And sometimes, waves loom high and pick up speed and crash onto the shore so hard it makes my head hurt. 

My head hurts.

I still don't know why. Why I am the only one who would ever be able to hold you. I have no photo of your face, nothing I can point to and say, "See? This is the child I lost." All I have are symbols, and memories, and shadows of who you were to us. Photos of our faces, your dad's and mine, filled with happiness at the news of your existence. Then later, fear that we might be losing you. 

But you were real. And we did lose you.

I know a lot of people who care so much about protecting life in the womb. They share images and describe the horrors and pain caused by choosing to terminate a young life, even one that's only been growing for a few weeks. I didn't choose to terminate yours - it happened, and I couldn't stop it. I've read that the most likely cause is a "chromosomal abnormality." 

I wondered then, and I still wonder...did you hurt? 

When you died inside me?

Your father and I prayed so hard for God to spare your little life. Why didn't He do it? Why did He give you just to take you away before your first breath?

I can imagine some reasons and make some guesses, but the truth is I will likely never know. And so, January 5th will come and go in the blink of an eye, just like you did. 

But I'll still remember you.

And I hope that remembering you helps me to remember life as much as death. I hope, if you ever have a brother or sister, that the joy of them is as near as the heartache that your loss still brings. That as soon as the delight over his or her new life melts away into exhaustion or routine, another wave builds steady in the distance and crashes down on us, covering us in gratitude again.

Thank you for helping me to remember that life is precious and should be celebrated - including the ones that require us to celebrate through our sorrow. 

Little One, you are loved. 

You are missed. 

You are treasured. 

Love,

Your mom

Grief

My last post was about something that people don't like to talk about. So is this one.

Grief.

It seems to be inescapable lately.

I started this post and abandoned it several weeks ago, prompted by a first-time experience: death inside of me.

(Insert lots of details here about how I was pregnant and now I'm not...but I’ll leave those for another time.)

The same week as my loss, a dear friend’s mother ended her battle with aggressive brain cancer. And then, today we learned of a tragic death in the family that my husband was practically an honorary member of in high school.

A few months ago it was my former pastor’s grandson. A few years ago, one of my husband’s best friends. Another of my dear friends also had a miscarriage this year.

It seems the older we get, the more frequently we experience it.

It's not just physical death, either. You can grieve the loss of friendships, of relationships, of community. 

Loss. Grief. Sorrow.

I think, as a whole, that this particular grouping of emotions just isn't something we immediately know how to handle. Especially for those of us who have spent a lot of time in church, there's an often out-of-balance tension between the extremes of giving in to despair and constantly expressing praise to God no matter what. And sadly, the latter of those extremes is often considered to be the only acceptable option, with a lot of shame (intentional or not) surrounding the former.

As I’ve walked through the last month, I’ve realized that there should be a tension between those two extremes.

Healing and sorrow, praise and sadness can (and often do) walk hand in hand.

We have to be okay with this. We have to allow ourselves and each other to feel safe in experiencing the huge variety of feelings that come along with the losses in our lives.

So what does that actually look like?

I'm not claiming to have all the right answers to this, but I have a few thoughts to share based on both my personal experience of late, and conversations with others who are also walking through a valley. 

1. Say something.

I truly, truly appreciate people who understand that sometimes people (i.e., introverts…i.e., me) need space. But please, don't decide for anyone else how much space they should have and when they should have it. Let them tell you.

Reach out. All it takes is a text letting someone know you're thinking of them and you're there for whatever they need. You can (and often should) even reach out with an offer to meet a specific need. If they don't respond, don't take it personally. That is them telling you they need space. 

But reach out. There is a very fine line between a grieving person’s experience of "space" and something else we call "isolation."

2. You CAN say the wrong thing.

I'm not saying to tip-toe around, paranoid that you will screw everything up just by opening your mouth. Just be aware that a lot of truly well-meaning people have unwittingly said very not-well-received words to people in grief.

If what you're about to say starts with "At least..." or "You can always..." it's a pretty safe assumption that it will not be helpful.

You know what is helpful?

"I love you."

"I'm so sorry."

"This really sucks."

"I'm here for you," or even "I'm praying for you."

"Hugs."

The end. Period.

 Don't let the very human reaction of putting a positive or spiritual spin on things take over. Again, remember that tension is okay. There will come a time when words like that may be appropriate. This is not that time.

3. Realize that grief is not linear.

It's not a sprint to the finish, or even a marathon trudge to the end. It does not always press forward.

It's more like a maze. At times, it feels like you've made great progress and are heading straight toward the exit. Sometimes, you'll find yourself up against a wall, running into the same corner over and over again. You might even find yourself circling back to a place you were in before, close to the entrance. And that's okay.

It will not last forever. Eventually, the grieving person will find the exit. That is not to say that the effects of the loss will be forgotten and the impact of the one lost will no longer be felt. It just means that the grieving period will end. How long this takes will obviously look different from person to person.

So, remember that in a few weeks when your regularly scheduled programming has resumed, the grieving person is likely still in the maze. Don’t forget to check in...weeks, months, even years later.

And if you’re reading this and you're the person on the inside of the grief maze, having experienced a loss…I hope you have people in your life who will tell you this in word and in deed:

Your grief is important and it matters.

Your grief is important and it matters.

Your grief is important.

And it matters.

Thrive

Yowza.

January's pretty much over and my last post was December 6th? 

So much for that whole "practicing my dream" and "consistency" thing. Still trying to figure it all out, folks, but I'm learning that I don't always need to be in a hurry to reach perfection. Sometimes I do. But not always.

On that note, I spent a good portion of these last two months taking time to deeply reflect on 2013; what hurt, what was life-giving, what I learned- and what kind of person I am going to be in 2014 because of it.

 To bare my soul just a little bit, part of my waning commitment to this blog was a result of a very unexpected and deep-rooted month-long funk that I can only attribute to my inner self truly desiring to slam the door shut on 2013 and start fresh. 

However, along with that darker time came a new determination to grow even more in this new year- not to be cliche, but to make 2014 the best year I've had yet. Not just because "good things" happen while it's here (though I believe good things will happen), but because I am and will be different. Healthier, happier- better. 

One thing that's new for me this year is intentionally choosing a word to describe what I see and want for this year. I've somewhat subconsciously done this in retrospect before, but not proactively, in a vision-casting sort of way. 

But this year, I intend to thrive.

Thrive by filling my time and mind with input that gives life, not that merely passes the hours. Thrive by taking the time to both notice and create beauty in my world. Thrive by learning to have less, but enjoy it more. Thrive by being my best self and pointing out the best in others.

Sometimes thriving will mean saying "yes." Sometimes thriving will mean saying "no." Sometimes thriving will mean "get off your lazy butt and go DO something." Sometimes thriving will mean doing nothing. It will almost always mean intentionality and choosing to thrive when that's not my knee-jerk reaction.

In a later post, I'll detail some of my more specific goals for this year that have arisen out of my time of reflection, but for now I'll leave you with an encouragement to not just survive 2014, but to thrive in it- whatever that means for you.

Do you have a word for 2014?

Practicing The Right Things

I forget exactly who or what led me to start reading Seth Godin's blog daily, but I haven't regretted it. In fact, it's my internet homepage, not because every single thing I read there is absolutely mind-blowing, but because it was another small way to introduce discipline into my daily life. 

If it's right there when I do what I normally do every day anyway, the odds go way up that I will read it. And then, the odds that I learn something that day have already increased. 

For those who don't know, Seth Godin is an author who writes about the world of entepreneurship, business, and marketing. While I'm interested but not currently in any of those three fields, I often find what he writes to be inspiring and related to other aspects of life. 

For example, this post from February 26, 2013 has had me thinking about it ever since I read it:

"The active imagination has no trouble imagining the negative outcomes of your new plan, your next speech or that meeting you have coming up.

It's easy to visualize and even rehearse all the things that can go wrong.

The thing is: clear visualization, repeated again and again, doesn't actually decrease the chances you're going to fail. In fact, it probably increases the odds.

When you choose to visualize the path that works, you're more likely to shore it up and create an environment where it can take place.

Rehearsing failure is simply a bad habit, not a productive use of your time."

When I was in college, I learned that if you are given a previously-taken multiple choice assignment back with corrections made so you can study for an upcoming test, it is best to not even look at the wrong choices. If you only study the right answers, only keep those in front of you and visualize them in connection with the question asked, you are at a much lower risk for choosing the wrong answer when test time rolls around.

As I practice erasing patterns of discouragement and paralyzing fear in my life, I'm learning more and more the counter-productivity of rehearsing the negative outcome. It's easy to hide behind claims of, "I'm just being realistic," but the truth is- what if the that, the worst-case scenario, is not the reality? 

What if the reality is that self-fulfilling prophecies exist, and if I tell myself the negative is going to happen, the negative will probably happen? 

I intend to make a habit of increasing the odds that things will go well by practicing that reality. I can get a good job, I can enjoy my life, I can grow and change in healthy ways. 

Enough practicing failure. Time to walk in success.

Fakesgiving

It took me almost 10 minutes to figure out the giant Tetris game that is putting leftovers into our fridge.

I was about to start getting slightly irritated and complaining about it when I realized, "This is a total first world problem." I would be complaining about...having too much food? That's ridiculous.

With that in mind, I'm bucking the system and posting my Thanksgiving post now instead of next week. Yep, I'm just that thankful.

 1. My husband

I find myself all too often taking for granted how awesome of a man I married. I'm thankful for the way he pursues me during conflicts, never storming out or refusing to talk about things (which is often what I try to default to). I know this is a rare gift, and I consider myself blessed to be in a relationship with a partner like him. Beyond just our relationship, I am amazed at the way he's attacked this grad school thing with all cylinders firing. He wasn't a model student in undergrad, but now he's doing homework, making awesome grades, and receiving accolades from his professors. There's even an internship opportunity that's already come up, and I couldn't be more proud of him for giving it his all. I got me a good one, folks.

2. My other handsome fella

Just look at that face. Growing up, I wasn't taught that it was okay to feel an emotion as strong as "love" for anything that wasn't human. I love this dog. Potty training, chewed up belongings, and barking at inconvenient times have all been irritating at times, but I can't explain the amount of joy Titus has added to my life since he was just that tiny pup over there on the left. I'm thankful I've been able to have that gift in my life for as long as I have. 

3. Roommates

We are incredibly blessed to have friends who are willing to share not only their home, but their lives with us. It's unconventional for a married couple to live with another married couple in the age of independence, and at times I find myself looking forward to the day when we have our own place, but our current living situation is truly a gift. Not only is there no way we could find rent this affordable anywhere else, but living in community with people that we like an overwhelming majority of the time often makes life downright enjoyable. After three + years of feeling fairly isolated, it's a sometimes challenging, but incredibly rewarding experience.

4. A good, hard year

This sounds a little odd, I know, and it's probably not the right way to say it. But it's the best I can come up with right now. 2013 has been a doozy. High highs and looooow lows. But I treasure the lesson's I've learned, the strength and faith gained, and the unforgettable friendships forged through it. I'm glad I live a real life, even though that means it's not always easy.

What are you giving thanks for this year?

2 Phrases To Stop Saying

2 Phrases To Stop Saying Flippantly:

1. "I'm sorry." 

2. "You should..."

Before you get all "what the what?" on me (about #1 especially), some background. Responsibility is one of my strengths. Literally. According to the Clifton StrengthsFinder Assessment. Verified by myself and those who know me well.

Having Responsibility as a strength is a double-edged sword sometimes, though, because I find myself feeling in almost every situation that someone HAS to be responsible. And if the people who should be taking or showing responsibility aren't doing so, well then that must mean that I need to. 

Except, wait. No it doesn't.

I'm learning that I need to start allowing myself to only take responsibility for the things I actually should. 

"I'm sorry" is a subtle, but too often employed admission of guilt that has no basis. Do I really need to be sorry that I bumped into you on accident? Or that I had to ask you to repeat what you said? 

 Replace "I'm sorry" with "my mistake" and you have an accurate representation of what's actually happened. 

Yes, I make mistakes. 

I recognize it. I acknowledge it. I correct and reconcile as much as I am able.

I move on.

"You should" gives me the responsibility of pointing another person down a certain path, whether or not they even asked me for directions. 

Change a few parts of speech. 

Make it, "If it were me, I would..." and I leave the responsibility where it truly lies- with the person who will choose for themselves what to do. 

I can't tell you what you should do. I can only tell you what I would do. 

Words have meaning beyond just their face value. It's important that I choose mine to accurately reflect the realities of my situations, and that I am actually aware of what those realities are in the first place. 

What about you? Anything you need to stop saying?

6 Reasons I 5K (And So Can You!)

I may have mentioned that I ran my first 5K in March of this year. Here I am, triumphantly embarking with my companions:

Note my friend's "I'm a champion!" pose.

Last week, in a conversation about my 2nd 5K coming up on Thanksgiving Day, I was asked a question by my boss that no one's really asked me before: 

"What made you want to run a 5K?"

 A few different responses popped into my mind before I ended up with: "When I ran the one I did in March, I really liked the feeling of setting my mind to something and accomplishing it."

That was a pretty good answer on the fly, but there's really a lot more to it than that, and I couldn't stop thinking about it once the conversation was over. So I decided to compile a list. Some of the details are specific to me, but the general concepts are ones I would use to urge anyone considering a 5K or any other type of fitness challenge to go for it. 

6 Reasons I 5K (And So Can You!)*

1. Empowerment

The (slightly) long(er) version of the answer I actually gave: This last year, or rather- the last few years, have been incredibly difficult for several reasons. Debilitating medical emergencies, financial strain, loss of community- a lot of it has been beyond my control.

Feelings of weakness and powerlessness were ever-present in those situations, but I surprised myself on the day of my 5K by not only finishing the entire race without stopping, but by doing so in better time than I had expected. That rush of feeling that I was strong, that I could despite the craziness that littered the rest of my life, was enough to make me hungry for more. 

2. Discipline

One of my mantras this year (borrowed from Jon Acuff) has been, "Discipline begets discipline." I'm one of those people who often has grand intentions for starting new habits or kicking old ones, with little follow-through when that initial optimism wears off. Sound familiar to most of you, New-Years-Resolution-Makers? 

Because I've set a goal for myself to beat my last race's time during the Turkey Trot, I've been motivated to train consistently. I've adjusted and given slack to the schedule as needed, but just about every week for the last nine, I've followed my training schedule. And that discipline has spilled into other aspects of my life, too. 

I feel like never before that I'm able to hold myself to an unmovable standard while also showing myself grace in the event that I need to change my plans. No more feelings of guilt and shame, just adjusting the plan so that I still accomplish the goal, even if it's through a different route than originally planned. 

3. Mental Stamina

My mind is so much stronger than my body sometimes. At one point during my training, I realized I could trick myself into running the distance I was supposed to run that day. Here's how the conversation went:

Body: I can't do this! My legs hurt!

Mind: Just keep going until that stop sign.

Body: Okay, fine. That's not too far, I can do that.

Body: Okay, I reached the stop sign, now I'm done. I can barely breathe.

Mind: Just a little farther. You can make it to that truck up there.

Body: Okay, fine. I guess I can make it to the truck.

Mind: Great! Now keep going until you're finished.

Body: FINE! But I don't have to like it!

It's kind of like the trick my mom used to play on me when I didn't want to finish my food growing up:

Me: "Mom, I don't want to finish this." 

Mom: "Come on, just eat half of what's on your plate." 

Me: "Okay, I ate half."

Mom: "Great! Now eat the other half."

Is it trickery? Yep. Does it work? You bet. My mind can tell my body to do things my body didn't know it could do. Now, when I'm at the beginning of a run and my legs hurt, I don't even have to trick myself to know that I can keep going. I remember from the times before, when I proved to my doubting body that I could.

4. Fitness

This one's fairly obvious, but we all know cardio's not bad for you. Admittedly, there's a lot of debate about whether or not cardio by itself provides the most sustainable health for the human body, but I figure if it's running or nothing, choose running. At this point, I can't afford a membership or a bunch of equipment, but I can afford a free app and I already have shoes. Bonus: it's always nice when you catch a glimpse of your legs in the mirror and are surprised by how great they're looking. Thanks, Running!

5. Shared Experience

My first 5K was shared with the previously pictured BFFM (Best Friends From Michigan). Afterwards we celebrated with the best bacon ever at the best brunch spot in town. The Turkey Trot experience will be shared with my brother and followed by our family's Thanksgiving Day festivities. Completing a challenge with someone, big or small, is one of the best bonding experiences, as is celebrating that accomplishment together. It creates memories that aren't soon forgotten.

Post-race, pre-bacon.

6. So That. (A.K.A. Building toward future goals)

 I realize that 5K is not a huge distance, and is considered pretty small potatoes in the running world. I don't care. I'm just starting out, and these small victories are crucial for any more progress to happen.

 I'm running another 5K so that I can solidify the success of running a smaller race and build toward longer races that will multiply the benefits I've already experienced. My plan is a 10K sometime in 2014 and eventually a half marathon. At some point, I think it would be awesome to do a triathlon, but that's a goal I'll set later.

My conversation with my boss ended with me telling her that if I could do it, anyone could do it. And that's what I truly believe- if you have any inkling of a desire to do something like this, do it! What do you have to lose?

*Yes, I do know English doesn't work this way. This is obviously a reference to Stephen Colbert's cleverly-titled book.

Champion

I wasn't raised to believe I'm strong.

I can't seem to come up with a good grasp on what exactly I WAS taught, because I don't remember it being an overt, "Emily's so weak, she'll never be able to do anything" type of conditioning.

All I know is that this year has been transformational. Both in terms of experiencing feelings of pain and betrayal and in realizing that I can overcome. Let me just add the disclaimer that when I say "I" and "me," I'm not attributing all strength to myself- I know that God is behind a lot of it. But to be honest, right now I'm trying to muddle through whether or not the "I can do nothing, only God can do anything" mentality is what led me to question my abilities, to subconsciously disbelieve that I could accomplish hard, even great things.

It's a complicated relationship with my past and with myself now. I guess some would consider me a "high achiever," or at least different from the others in my family. I graduated with awesome grades from a "real" high school (as opposed to home school), was the first in my immediate family to attend a 4-year university, and the first in my extended family to complete it. I graduated with honors, succeeded in extracurricular activities, was generally well-liked and worked hard at whatever I did.

But somehow, that still never left me with the impression that "I'm strong." I've enduring long periods of emotional pain and fatigue, but that didn't make me feel strong. Longsuffering, persevering maybe. Dedicated. Responsible. But not strong. Not an achiever.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

"He must increase, I must decrease."

"Apart from Him I can do nothing."

These are the messages I was taught from childhood. Are they true? In a way, I believe. But I don't remember being told that I could DO things. That I was strong. I remember feeling that people were impressed when I actually DID them, but not that they had confidence beforehand that I was going to succeed. I don't remember being encouraged to try new things with the belief that I could do well. It's such an interesting and subtle difference, and I'm not necessarily blaming anyone, just pondering.

What would have happened if I had been told, 

"Yes, Emily, you can take a financial step of faith without it surely leading to ruin."

"Yes, Emily, you can get a job that does more than just pays the bills- one that satisfies your desire for meaningful work."

"Yes, Emily, you can stand up for yourself when people take advantage of your understanding and flexible nature." 

"No, Emily, you're not destined for an adulthood of obesity and unhealth. You can turn that around if you put forth the right effort."

What if I had been told those things instead of, "Well, what if you lose your job?" Or, "You can't be too picky. Take what you can get." Or, "turn the other cheek" type messages.

God gave me a brain. I can use it to decide if I am in relationships that are healthy.

God gave me a body and the ability to say no to it's every desire.

God also gave me a body that can do more than my mind often tells it it can. My legs can carry me farther and faster if my brain tells it to.

The song "Hall of Fame" by The Script and Will.i.am. has been my anthem this year. It sounds really cheesy, and I'm sure some of the people in my background would be appalled by the "humanistic" message of "you/me" being able to achieve in our own strength.

But you know what, I'm a champion. I can survive hell, and this year I feel like I've tasted part of it. And I've also tasted victory. I've fought past voices of negativity in my head and done what my mind told me I wasn't going to be able to do. 

I'm starting to learn to tell myself messages like, "Yes, you can. It'll be hard, but you can do it. You're strong enough. You may not be perfect at it yet, but you got this. And the next time you try will be even better."

 I'm a champion.

Things That Make You Say, "Hmmmm..."

Saw a quote today that is making me think:

"A goal without a plan is just a wish."

What do you think? True? Not true? 

Community

And no, not the hilarious TV show.

Sitting across the table from some loved faces in our favorite restaurant a few months ago, I realized something about true community. 

It's hard.

I know a lot of us know that, with our minds. Some of us, myself included, have experienced this "hardness" in the form of betrayal and unnecessary pain inflicted by those we're attempting to be in community with. That's not exactly what I'm talking about. 

Yes, there is pain, and it is often hard. But it is also good, and true. 

In this particular instance, the mouths on the other side of the booth weren't saying things I really wanted to hear. They weren't even saying things I necessarily agreed with. In fact, they were saying things that caused pain. 

And yet, because of the relationship our families have with each other, because of the time we've spent supporting each other during some of our darkest times in the last year or two- their words had a certain medicinal quality, a balm for the soul.

Not very many people in my life have loved me in a way that intentionally challenges me as a natural result of a knit-together relationship with them. I've been challenged out of authority, out of "mentorship," out of other things- none of which are bad in themselves.

But the people facing me in the booth that day are among the few that I call "true heart-friends." Those are the words that make sense to me to describe those in my life with whom I've experienced true community. 

We may differ in ideologies, in methodologies, but our hearts are one. Their kids are my kids, their pain is my pain, and their rejoicing is mine. 

I'll be honest, their words stung. My pride flared up. Fight or flight reflexes made my fists clench and voice tremble for a few moments, but even in that moment I knew I was experiencing beauty. The beauty of brothers and sisters living out true community, even when it's not easy and maybe neither of you is completely right. 

As we settle into life in direct community with another couple under one roof, I pray that those are the kinds of relationships we cultivate. That we share those droughts and earthquakes and beautiful fall days, and take the risk of pressing in. 

And I pray that you let yourself find true heart-friends as well. 

So That

Last time I wrote about my past experience with the Whole30 plan. Today, it's all about what my goals are for the month of September (and October, but we'll get to that). 

A couple of months ago, some dear friends of ours shared with Husband and I something revolutionary they had just been learning about at their church's staff retreat. It was the concept of "so that." In a nutshell, when you're setting goals, "so that" > "because." Why? 

Because is in the past. Because is a reaction. Because makes you explain something from a position of passivity and powerlessness.

So that is reaching forward. So that is pressing on. So that is specific, measurable, and active (SM of SMART goals, by the way).  

So why am I doing another Whole30? It's not because I feel out of control of my eating habits, or because I've gained weight, or because I feel lazy, lethargic, and overly-emotional (although all of those things are true). 

I am participating in another Whole30...

...so that I am in the best emotional place I can be while job hunting and determining my next life steps.

...so that I eventually get to a healthy weight and feel good in my clothes.

...so that I determine what specific food types slow me down emotionally and physically, and avoid them.

...so that I reframe the way I think about food and put it back in its place as a God-given gift, not a boredom reliever or a reward for making it through a tough week/day/hour.

...so that I consciously think about what I am eating, and why. Why do I feel like I need a Honey Butter Chicken Biscuit, or a Sonic Strawberry Limeade, or pizza? Are any of these things doing anything good for me? Side note, I believe the answer to this question can sometimes be yes- but that's a discussion for another time.

...so that I free my mind and body of junk enough to tackle regular, disciplined exercise (an element I'm adding this time around with the Couch to 5k program and a commitment to run the Turkey Trot with my brother in November). 

Now, some of these so thats point to other so thats, or have other so that's leading into them, or running alongside them. For example, I could choose to define and write out what my beliefs about food truly are...SO THAT when this thing's over, I'll have an already thought-out answer for Today Me when she tries to talk Yesterday Me out of her good intentions to eat right today. 

I'll probably add more to this idea as time goes on, especially since Husband and I are in the middle of determining what our so thats are for our lives/marriage. But for now, I'll leave you with a few questions: 

Does thinking about "so that" rather than "because" change anything for you? If so, what are some of your so thats? I'd love to know, so leave me a comment!

Whole30 Days Hath September

Back in March, Husband and I completed our first Whole30. I wrote about the experience after it was complete, and since September 1st marked the beginning of my second Whole30, I figured I'd share it here.

.....

So.

It's not all that often that I start something and actually complete it. But I was determined this time. Tim and I just finished up a Whole30. I'm not super into fad diets or extremism, but after hearing about the success and health results of a couple of family members and various others with this type of eating, I started considering making an exception. I finally decided to do it in March for a few reasons:

* The steady decline of my eating and exercise habits over the last few years.

* The fact that when I got home from work, all I had the mental, emotional, or physical energy to do was veg. All of the things that I actually enjoy doing, that fill me up or increase my health in some way were out of the question because of the effort it would take to do them. Leaving me wasting time on things that were not pouring in, but rather draining me.

* The recent realization that unless I make some diet/activity changes, I WILL end up with diabetes and/or thyroid problems in the next few decades. I don't even remember the situation, but one day recently I just had this clear as day epiphany that this would surely be my future if I don't change something. Having a family history of obesity and the aforementioned health issues (not to mention high blood pressure and heart disease), it is highly likely that this will happen to me when I reach middle age (or before) unless I get off my butt. 

Shockingly enough, Tim agreed to do the 30 days with me- he is even more of a skeptic than I, not to mention he hates the American obsessions with "diets" and being skinny, etc. But, he loves and supports me and knows that what he likes (sour cream and tortilla chips) isn't always what's best for him, so he was all in with me. Isn't he the greatest?

And we did it! Yesterday we celebrated our victory with an oh-so classy late-night progressive dinner (Taco Bell & Dunkin Donuts) with some good friends. It was a good night.

I've heard (read) about many people that have had more radical/amazing experiences and results than we did, but I can't say enough right now how glad I am that we did it. Some reasons why:

(I like bulleted lists today)

* It was empowering to have total knowledge and control of what I put in my body. Over the whole month, only on three occasions did I eat something that was not personally prepared by myself or Tim. Historically, I have not been very comfortable in the kitchen unless it's to bake, but I learned how to do some things decently well. I broiled for the first time, made my own sausage, sucessfully made my own mayo, and learned to enjoy sweet potatoes and fried eggs (together and individually!) for the first time in my life. 

* While the focus of this particular theory of eating isn't on weight loss, I did lose almost 10 pounds without exercising a single time this month (Tim lost around 15)! We'll take it.

* I've read about some people experiencing a total mellowing out of their moods over the month that they did it. I can't say that I was totally mood-swing-free this month, but for a good portion of it, it did seem much easier to be in a more positive mood. Like I was starting off from a more upbeat baseline rather than trying to force myself to be chipper. Not sure if that makes sense, but it's an improvement, so again I'll take it.

* I had anticipated that when the Whole30 ended, I would be reaching for everything in sight that I had been missing out on during March. Especially since I work in a food setting where I'm surrounded all day by grain/dairy/sugar and could easily access any of it, I figured today I would be stuffing my face with muffins and chips and lattes. But, surprisingly, today I didn't feel the need for it. I didn't feel the NEED for it. That emotional "need" that tells you that because you CAN have it, you SHOULD have it. So, while I did allow myself to enjoy a few things that I hadn't had for 30 days, for the first time in a long time I felt like I was the one in control of my appetite and cravings, rather than vice versa. One of my biggest hesitations with doing a Whole30 was that I would turn into one of "those people" who are obsessed with eating their certain way, unable to make exceptions or exercise balance in their lives. But I am shocked to find that my mind and body  are telling me that they want to keep being fed the way they've been over the last month for the most part, and make exceptions as appropriate. Not using "fun" food as an emotional crutch or a boredom reliever, but enjoying it in moderation as a gift from God and a way to experience community with others. 

* The spiritual connection. I intentionally planned to do this during the season of Lent. To be clear, I did not do this as a fast for spiritual reasons, but I realized it would easily lend itself to some overlap. And so, in this season of reflecting on Christ's gift, I was more motivated to pick up my Bible rather than my laptop on more occasions than has been true for the last few years. Maybe it's because of the aforementioned "lighter" mood, but again...I'll take it.

* I tried not to formulate expectations at the beginning of this about weight loss or good moods, but my main goal at the outset was just to "break the cycle" of going to work, dragging all day, coming home, sitting on my butt and filling my body and mind with things that weren't nourishing me. And I feel like I've actually done that somehow. I'm out of breath because I went running for the first time in...I don't even know how long. Granted, sunshine and warmer weather helps. But regardless, Couch-to-5k started for me today, and I'm considering actually running a 5k at the end of May. If I feel this accomplished and victorious after this month, I can only imagine I'll feel the same way if I actually do a 5k. And who knows what's next after that. 

Feelin' pretty positive. :-p

So. 

This is not to convince everybody that they should do this and then go Paleo and then do Cross-fit and then Juice Plus (I've done none of those things) and then and then... This is just to share my experience and invite you to celebrate with me. I will say that the main drawback to eating this way is that to fully do it "right," you have to have a lot more money than we do. We didn't bother with grass-fed/pastured whatnot, we just did what we could afford and still had pretty good results. But we did spend way more money on food last month and it felt like we ate more than usual (less filler ingredients in stuff, I guess?), so I'm interested in doing it again in the summertime when produce is on better sales and more readily available. 

Aaaaanyway. To celebrate and give myself an appropriate non-food reward, I spent the last of the Christmas money I'd been hoarding and bought myself this dress that I hadn't stopped thinking about since I tried it on several weeks ago: 

What's up with my new-found love of polka dots?

And that's all I have to say about that.
.....

Stay tuned for updates, meal plans/ideas, etc. as September continues!

Square One

Back to basics, folks.

That's where I'm trying to live these days, in my head. Recently, I experienced what felt like scales falling off my eyes unexpectedly. 

Definitions.

Having grown up in the church and taken Biblical Doctrines classes in college, I thought I had a pretty good handle on what certain words mean. Basic words. Words I've had defined for me probably hundreds of times. 

Words like "grace."

Did you know that the organization I was raised in defined grace as "the desire and power to do God's will?" Did you also know that this is a totally bogus and not even kinda close to true definition of that word? 

I'm sure on some level that I did know that. But it just recently dawned on me. Have you heard people use the word "wrecked" a lot recently? Or "destroyed?" Like, "oh man, this song just destroys me." I have, and to be honest it's always annoyed me a little, since most things that a lot of people do a lot of all at once tend to annoy me. 

But friends, I've been wrecked by this recently. Almost non-stop thoughts about the revelation that God's grace is unmerited favor, not based on any "desire" or "power" that I have- actually, not based on anything related to me. Unmerited! Favor!

It destroys me. Breaks me down to humility, which I think is where I've needed to be for a long time. And let me be clear, friends- when I say it's broken me, I don't mean in a way that's guilty and demeaning. I'm referring to that realization of how utterly good God is, and how the way I feel about Him or myself on any given day doesn't really matter, because His grace will still be there. 

This one mind-exploding realization has ripple-effected into almost every aspect of my thinking in the last few weeks. Almost every thought is a new discovery of a lie I've been believing, or a truth that can change me. Sometimes the lie has to do with something I was actually taught, sometimes it has to do with mentalities I somehow picked up somewhere along the way.

In the last week, the definition that's been breaking me down is that of the word "awesome." Did you know that when I was growing up and people in youth group were singing "Our God is an Awesome God," that certain members of my family scoffed at how superficial the song was? Like the word "awesome" was reserved for hippies or people who obviously weren't really serious about God...otherwise they'd sing hymns, where the meat really is.

Recently in church, they've been singing a worship song that literally says "My God is awesome. Awesome. Awesome." You can guess what my initial reaction to the song was. "Wow, what a totally shallow song." Granted, it's not the most well-written or theologically loaded song ever written, that much is sure. But folks, I realized that the word "awesome" was not coined in the last several decades or even in the last few centuries. It's as much a Biblical word as "redemption" or "sanctification" or "omnipotent" or any of those other lofty-sounding words that I actually do like to use. It's not a word that hippies made up in the 70's. 

And what's more, it doesn't just mean, "God's pretty cool."

To stand in awe of. To be awed. To honor, respect. To cause astonishment. To inspire reverence or godly fear. Etc, etc. That deep enough?

Anyway, I should bring this to a close. I don't have any magical words of conclusion, just the knowledge that I'll probably be muddling through this for a while.

And I'm okay with that.

My Other Anniversary

"Shortly after her wedding in June 2010, my friend Meg pointed this picture out to me, taken by her sister-in-law Amanda. That's me leaning over in the background, and we both had a good (and I mean, tears were running down my face, it was so good) laugh about how well this photo represented my life at that time. But over the next few days, I kept thinking about it, and thinking about how it is an almost perfect picture of what had been going on with me for the 4-6 months preceding July 16th (yes, I will probably always remember that date) of 2010:

Straining to hear.

A look of total confusion and concentration on my face.

Also significant is how blurry I am, because that's pretty much how everything had looked to me for a few months.

For those of you who don't know the story, and right now are as confused as I look in the picture, here's a bite-sized version. Granted it would be a very large bite, but still:

About a month or so before our wedding in April 2010, I started experiencing some weird symptoms that came from out of no where and gradually got worse, to the point that I was describing above. Plus occasional random vomiting, severe headaches, and balance issues. It was utterly frustrating and depressing for me given the fact that we were on our first big adventure as a married couple (working at a lodge in Alaska for the summer), and I was both unable and unmotivated to do most of the adventuresome things I wanted to do, in addition to the everyday stuff that became difficult. Interacting with people became an embarrassing chore as I would see the look of annoyance pass over their faces when I repeatedly asked "what?" and strained to hear.

We tried to figure out what the problem was as it got progressively worse. I saw a chiropractor for several weeks, noticed a bit of improvement in the headaches (which promptly returned after about a week of relief), and then after a scary uncontrollable falling episode, decided to see a general practitioner to see if she had any ideas about what could possibly be going on.

(Insert a few days and superfluous details here that I will happily tell if one really wants to know.)

I was sent to have an MRI done and was told that it would probably be a few days before I knew the results unless something significant requiring immediate attention showed up. In that case they would notify the doctor right away, who would then notify me right away. I wasn't even halfway back to the lodge from having the MRI done when I got the doctor's call saying, "You have a very large cyst that is putting a LOT of pressure on your brain. I've called ahead to a hospital in Anchorage and arranged an emergency procedure for you either tonight or tomorrow morning. If this isn't taken care of very soon, you could potentially have a seizure and go into a coma."

So we went to Anchorage. I had emergency brain surgery. We felt, almost tangibly, enveloped by the prayers of people all around the country and the world, as both our families spread the word to other friends and family. I immediately noticed restoration of my hearing and balance, and the absence of headaches (minus the pain from the incision), and was told that my vision, while noticeably better, was going to take a little bit more time to fully return to normal as my brain and optic nerve healed from its pressurized state.

Fast forward to now: I am 100% recovered, experiencing NONE of the symptoms I was having before. And I am thankful.

Thankful to God for not only taking care of us, but for doing so in an overwhelming way, and for using this situation to strengthen mine and Tim's faith and our very young marriage.

Thankful for a husband who took incredible care of me, not only around the time of the surgery, but during all the frustrating months leading up to it. And who is still taking incredible care of me throughout all the emotional repercussions I've experienced after the fact (sounds overly-dramatic, I know, but it was a pretty traumatic time for me and I've had to work through it more than just physically). I love you, my Tim.

Thankful for the excellent doctors, surgeons, and nurses who were all a part of the process of me getting better. And for the crappy ones, too, since they were still part of the process. But seriously, we had some great ones that I will always be grateful to.

Thankful for the Minatra family who drove me to the doctor, to my MRI, and eventually to the hospital, all of which are 1.5 to 3 hour drives, one-way. They even went home for the night and came back in the morning to be with Tim during my actual surgery. And THEN they took Tim and I into their cozy home for the few days after I got out of the hospital and before we flew down to Houston to fully recover.

Thankful for my family who hugged me so tight when I saw them again that I could literally feel how much they loved me and how relieved they were to be seeing me in person, and not in a coma, standing right in front of them. And who welcomed us back to stay in their home and fed us and loved on us for about a month before we made the trek back up to Michigan.

Thankful for everyone who prayed, gave financially, brought food, sent cards, left comments, encouraged, and hugged us.

And, of course, thankful that this picture no longer describes me."

...or this picture. Pre-surgery. Note large, dark round spot in the middle that's not supposed to be there.

(Note: This was originally written at the one year anniversary of my surgery, and every year around this time I pull it out to remember and celebrate God's faithfulness.)

90% Perfect

...and shared with the world always changes more lives than 100% perfect and stuck in your head.

- Jon Acuff, Quitter 

How many 25-year-old college graduates do you know who have no idea what they're doing with their lives? Well, now you know one more.


Call this an experiment.

I'm calling it discipline.

Currently, I'm a little over a month away from a cross-country move, which naturally brings with it the opportunity for a lot of new. New job. New living situation. New community. But mostly, new chances to get better at some things I haven't been so great at. And one of those things for a long while has been discovering and doing things that I actually love. Things that fill me up, make me come alive, feel as though I'm living out an inescapable truth for my life.

So this is an exercise in recovering those loves.

One of them is writing. One of them is the culinary world. Another is artistic creativity and crafts. A relatively new one is self-care (i.e., primping).

So here is my opportunity to "do what [I] love with the life [I] already have" (another quote from Acuff- can you tell I'm digging this book?). Oh, and here's another one- "discipline begets discipline." So far this year, I've disciplined myself to complete a Whole30 as well as my first 5k, I feel like this is all part of Emily's Health Snowball of 2013.

Post one. So far, so good. I'm a champion.