"You're such an inspiration!"

So, I was sitting at my desk today, frustrated with my progress. I haven't been losing 3 pounds a week like I would hope to. I have been craving foods that are bad for me. I have hit a wall with my workouts.

I am just...bored. And in this desert where no one really understands what I am going through.

Anyone that knows me knows that I am my worst critic. There is no one that I am more critical about than myself. I compete with myself, I push myself too hard, and the biggest one is that I don't give myself a break. Naturally, I haven't been giving my body a break. The weeks of processed Luna Bars have been catching up to me and progress has slowed down.

So, I am changing something. But not the something you might think I would be changing. I am changing what the word "progress" means.

Are you slowing down? Losing interest? The honeymoon is over and the work is ahead? Here is progress: me sitting at my desk, being so hard on myself that I have become an emotional wreck, and a high schooler walking in and telling me she has lost 4 pounds because I have been such an inspiration to her.

Here is progress: someone asking me to speak at her Made To Crave bible study as a testimonial to how God can redeem the brokenness of our food addiction.

Here is progress: I have had one of the worst weeks I have had in a LONG time and I did not turn to food. (You should read that one again, because this is a bigger deal than you think it is.)

If you are as hard on yourself as I am on myself, and if you are hitting an emotional wall like I am, may I suggest changing your definition of the word "progress"? Our biggest victories might not be on the scale. They might just be the ones in our hearts, the ones that have beaten us up our whole lives.

We all need to make a collective promise to ourselves that we will stop the bombing when it comes to our own hearts. Give yourself a break, take a step back, and realize that you might be the most important person that you need to encourage today. Offer that to yourself, and watch how quickly you make progress!

-Liz

When being "set apart" feels like crap.

I don't know about you, but I like being a counselor to others. The sounding board for problems. The listener and shoulder to cry on. I like encouraging people, helping them in times of need, and offering hope and prayer when friends are upset and despondent.

I do NOT, however, like to be on the receiving end of all those things above. I don't like this new phase of life that God has put me in. In a word, I am - vulnerable. And as much as I have been fighting this new position, I can't help it. I am finally facing the one thing in my life that I have been pretending wasn't an issue. The elephant in the room. (No fat jokes! But...good one.)

Whenever someone comes to me and says "Living for God is just too hard. I have to give up this or that and I can't hang out with who I used to, I can't live that life and it's too hard. It's just not fair" my response has always been "We are set apart! As Christians, we are set apart and what feels like unfairness is actually God protecting us from pain!"

Yes, I fully believe that God's "rules" for life, are not actually rules to hold us down and bum us out, but protections from us getting hurt and carrying emotional scars and baggage that will forever weigh us down.

But if you're asking me to believe that too, well that just hits too close to home. And this week, it has hit so close to home that I have had to make some tough realizations. Yes, I am the toughest person I know, and yes, I have kept the world at a distance, and yes the extra weight I have carried around served its purpose to keep people away from knowing me fully.

Now that I know that, what will I do with it? I'm making a decision to not sit in this sin anymore but to find scripture to fight off the lies that I have believed my whole life. Maybe this will help you, too:

"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." - Romans 12:2 

Does that hit you like it hits me? I have conformed to the patterns of this world my whole life. The world says: Don't let anyone too close. Develop armor. Find a way to always have the upper hand. Look out for yourself first.

But what does Jesus say? "Greater love has no man than this: that he would lay his life down for his friends."

If I allow God to renew my mind, I will be transformed. Then and only then will I be able to see what God's will is for my life - his good, pleasing, and perfect will.

Maybe it's time for all of us to actually believe in ourselves as much as we believe in others, and to listen to the advice we give and let God apply it to our own hearts. I don't know...maybe.

-Liz

...and the victory flag flies high over the golden arches.

Every week, I meet with my friends Pam and Barb to talk about our weight loss trials and tribulations, victories and triumphs. This past week, Pam was talking about how she has no desire to have a "pig out" day anymore. I told her that I'm just not there yet - that I still can't go into a McDonald's without eating like the old days.

And what, you may ask, did my old days at McDonald's look like? Well, here is an embarrassing admission:

Usually, it was the 2 cheeseburger meal, supersized, with a diet coke. Yes, a diet coke. I didn't want to go overboard, now. Oh and occasionally, add an apple pie. And they used to be 2 for $1, so didn't I want 2, they would ask? Sure, why not? And once, I think I even added chicken nuggets. Alright, take it easy. Quit judging me. It was probably a rough night. Or I was bored. Or, any number of stupid reasons that I would take that all home with me. The calorie total of all that goodness was...

610 for the fries, 300 for each cheeseburger, 280 for the chicken nuggets, and 250 for each apple pie bringing that total to...

1,990 calories. For one meal. To put that into perspective, I now consume less than 1,500 calories a day.

(Another fun one to calculate...I used to be more than willing to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting. A pint of their chocolate chip cookie dough is 920 calories. And that's one of the lower calorie flavors!)


My point is this: I never, ever thought I would be able to go into a McDonald's again without eating like I used to. In fact, when I first started this weight loss journey in September, I would avoid certain routes home so my car wouldn't magically drift into the drive through. But today, today something amazing happened.

I went to Hickory to meet my friend Sam for the day and I really, really wanted coffee. I couldn't find a convenient Starbucks, but I did pass a McDonald's. I went in hungry. I came out with a sugar free vanilla latte in my hand. And you know what? I didn't feel deprived. I didn't feel left out. I didn't feel lonely, I felt EMPOWERED. I felt God's hand on me, and I felt empowered.

Today was a big day. Today was a victory, and today I am grateful to God for how He is carrying me and you through our greatest struggles and into victory.

We should all care enough about ourselves to pay attention to what we put in our mouths. And we should all care enough about our feelings and emotions to stop stuffing them down with food. And you should invite me out for coffee...and we can even go to McDonalds. Turns out, their coffee is awesome.

-Liz

What are we hiding from?

I was just on myfitnesspal.com. It's a great website that tracks calories and exercises for you, and has lists of foods in and out of restaurants, etc. I have the app on my iphone and it has REALLY been a help.

ANWAYS...I was reading someone's blog post where they posted before and after pictures, in the mirror, of 33 pounds before and 33 pounds after. I was reading through all of the replies, the congratulations, etc. and there was one that REALLY got me. One woman replied to the photos by saying:

"Wow, I wish I had taken more before photos, but I was always trying to stay out of the picture."

Painful. Profound. Honest. It has me thinking the same thing. I never took before photos. I am still not taking photos. Why? I'm not scared to jump in a group photo. But I am scared of taking photos of my work in progress. Am I still trying to stay out of the picture?

Just a question of...what are we hiding from? Is it a person? Is it ourselves? Is it our potential? What are we afraid of?

I don't know the answers. I do know that, for me, sometimes it is painful to acknowledge change and be the center of attention. It's hard to take a compliment, and it's scary to find myself in a new reality. But it's the good kind of scary. Like a leap of faith. Like trusting someone. Like accepting love. Like accepting that someone loves me unconditionally.

I am losing weight because I am loved, not because I want to be loved. See the difference? After 35 years, I do.

-Liz

Giving away your "big" clothes should be freeing. Right?

Last night I decided to tackle round two of giving away my old clothes. I had been throwing clothes into my guest room as I tried them on and they were just too big for me.

The first time I got rid of old clothes, it was pretty awesome. They were baggy clothes to being with because that's what I am comfortable in, but when I got rid of them, I just couldn't keep wearing them, it looked ridiculous. So last night, I went through clothes that were a little more difficult to part with. T-shirts mostly, that I have had for years. Old standards. Not too tight, not too baggy.

What I am learning lately, is that, I don't have a choice to go back to the old Liz. Lately, I find myself making decision to safely keep me on the right path. This latest clothes dump is a big one for me. I won't ever go back to that size, and more importantly, I won't ever go back to what that girl believed about herself. Now that these shirts are gone, so are my options to give up.

It's crazy how what we wear is such a reflection of how we feel. In every way. I will miss those old t-shirts, but they are just things. They aren't the memories themselves. Now I know how people get on that show Hoarders.

I gotta go find some more stuff to get rid of.

-Liz

Our first trip to Jamaica, in March of 2010. This shirt is in
the stack to go.



The Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day of last year. Bye Bye,
Kimley-Horn KISS tee.




Jamaica, December 2011.




Our spring break Washington, DC trip in March of last year.



It's not about the pizza. It's about what the pizza represents.

Last night I was on the phone with my friend, having yet another conversation where I am trying not to cry, trying to get over it, trying to be ok with this new lifestyle of mine. I had just gotten back from a 4 day work event, and while I was gone, I kept thinking "I can't wait to go home, sit on my blue couch, and eat a whole pizza."

I told my friend about this, and her response was "yeah, but once you eat that pizza, that ten minutes of enjoyment turns into a regret of over 1,000 calories."

Her response was absolutely correct, but really bothered me. It bothered me because, I am asking my naturally thin friend to understand this important point: It's not about the pizza. It's about what the pizza represents.

Why, in my excitement of relaxing, do I always attach FOOD to that great experience of relaxation and relief? Why can't my thoughts be "I can't wait to go home, sit on my blue couch, and watch tv, or read a book, or talk with my friends, or whatever, fill in the blank." Why does MY blank always end up being - food?

Our naturally thin friends want to help us. They love us. They care about us in every possible way. But the truth is, they might never struggle with food the way we do. Their relaxation dream might not include food. Mine always will. I think my mind will always wander there, always wish I could do that, always wonder what it would be like.

So if it's not about the pizza, what is it about? This might help you (if you don't struggle with food) to understand your friend that does. It is about reverting to a lifestyle of doing what I want, being alone with one of the only friends I let close to me (food), and being able to control my life. You see, when I overeat, when I use food as a comfort, it is historically at home, in private, by myself. It is shameful, it is fearful, it is perpetual, it is an addiction.

I'll be honest...in the old days, it was not uncommon
for me to power through a whole pizza from
Salvio's. And I mean...power through. Past the point
of being full. Just to do it, so I could get rid of it.

Yes, eating too much pizza is a problem and I will regret the calories. But it is a symptom of a MUCH bigger problem: I look to food for comfort. For rest. For relaxation. For validation. For companionship. So as much as I might want to, I could never do that to myself again. Not because of the calories, but because of the lonely place that it takes me. In my heart, I never want to go back to that dark place again.

When I make a food mistake, and I will, I have to move on. I have to forgive myself and let go. But I have made a decision to not use food as a reward anymore. I am not a dog. Food is not my reward.

-Liz

Accepting you for you

Another great friend of ours, Cameron, who has been to Jamaica with us twice, and soon to be a third time, had these thoughts on his heart. It's his first time to publicly be so bold, which is a blessing for us because that kind of risk always means great reward. Enjoy!

I've never written a blog before so this is a little bit weird to me, but here it goes. Last night while on the phone with my good friends Liz and Dee I came to the realization that I am in fact my own person and I shouldn't live my life being compared to others. My whole life I've felt that I've always been compared to my two older brothers, whether I was being praised for being “better” than them or I was being put down for “failing” to live up to their lives. I know this seems absurd, but for me its something that has always loomed over me and caused a great deal of stress in my life. Whether its trying to do as well in them at school or just trying to act and look like them, I struggle with inadequacy and feeling of being inferior compared to them.

 However last night I realized that I am in fact my own person, and I shouldn't compare myself to them because I am in fact NOT them, and that I am being unfair to myself and ultimately selling myself short of the life God wants me to live. After all God made me “perfect” and in his image, so why should I ever feel inferior? Today I've really realized that everything I do I need to do to the best of my ability to praise God, but I have also realized that if I try my best and put forth everything I have I cannot fail in God's eyes, which makes me feel so much better about life in general. This may seem silly to you guys that something this small could have such a big impact on my life, but after this “come to Jesus” last night my life has been much easier for me to accept. One of the dangers that comes with comparing ourselves to others is that it will lead to envy and jealousy, which are both vile in God's eyes.

Romans 12: 6 says it all: “Let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be; without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't. If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else.” (The Message).

I hope this will help someone reading to realize that you are not what the world says you are, but what God says you are, and he says you are perfect, and redeemed, and that you are filled with the spirit of God.

-Cameron

There is no Plan B.

This picture was taken in December of 2010. You are looking at it, and it's unbelievable. Maybe, if you know us, you have seen it before. And most of you know the story behind it. But Dee shared something with me a few days ago, an update to this photo, that has still rocked my world, and it's something I will never forget.

This picture was taken in December of 2010. It was our second trip to Jamaica, but our first trip to the infirmary. The infirmary is more like, a home for the forgotten. Some are elderly, some are handicapped, all are people that have no other home. No family to care for them, no person to hug them, no home to die peacefully. So here they are, in an infirmary: a long room, lined with rusty beds and dirty mattresses.

We arrived empty handed. Our purpose was just to talk to the men and women there. Our mission was to show Jesus Christ to them. Not in our words, but in our touch. For me, it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I felt like my feet were glued to the floor. I was supposed to just go up to these people and pray for them? To hold their hands? To comfort them in their pain? How do I do that when I can barely take a step?

I was deep inside my own insecurity when I turned around to see this scene. My friend doing one of the most courageous things she has ever done. Kneeling beside the bed of a man that was gnarled up from years of pain and disability, praying for him. And 15 minutes later, still praying for him. And as she prayed, his arms and legs unfolded and stretched out in his bed, as if he was able to release the pain and torment of his failing body. What you can't see in this picture, is the tear coming out of his eye and rolling down his cheek. Maybe it was his response to pain, but I think it was his response to someone sitting with him and staying with him and being the hands and feet of Jesus to him.

It was something I can't explain.

But the other day, I asked Dee if, when we visited that infirmary again last month, in December of 2011, she saw that man she prayed for because I sure didn't. She had asked Penie that same question. Where was he? Penie informed Dee that he had passed away, not long after our visit in 2010. And we are left knowing that Dee was one of the last people to be with this man in such a powerful way. She was one of the last people to sit beside him in the last days of an excruciating illness. She prayed for him and brought him into the presence of His Father, His Daddy, the One who loves him eternally and took away his pain.

May we all go through this day and spend it with someone who needs a hand, a touch, a prayer, a conversation. Our words have power, and our God has plans for us that involve the people around us right here and right now. Remember, you are God's plan, and there is no plan B.

-Liz

An international confession

The following was written by one of our friends that came on our last Jamaica trip. It was his first time, and his honest account will hopefully encourage you to take a big chance, like he did. Enjoy!

It is almost the end of my time here in Jamaica, and I can truly say that I might come back a little different than when I left. I have experienced a lot of things – that - I’ve honestly heard about or seen through pictures for years now that I’ve never truly experienced. I have learned the difference between seeing something on a screen, and being so close that you can feel it.

Never before coming to Jamaica, could I smell the burning trash in the ghettos, or see the scars on kid’s arms, legs and chest, because of old metal sitting in their front yard. Never before have I seen such a small and crowded hospital that I had to squeeze by doctors and nurses -trying to help patients. Never before have I seen so many elderly people crammed into rooms, likely to stay there tired and forgotten. Never before have I been so lost for words that I was stuck frozen to the ground in terrible awe. Never before have I held the hand of a girl with no name, hospital sheet, or family around to be with her… Never before had I felt so helpless…

That was how I first saw Jamaica. We drove straight passed the fancy resorts and the tourist cities to the country torn in pain and despair; a sight seen by too few Americans. I regrettably admit, I saw no point in trying to help what I thought to be a lost cause. We have been here for a few days and I didn’t think we accomplished anything really. I felt our efforts were falling short, I lost my focus, and I felt defeated. In the morning we had time every day to read the bible or sit and talk with each other about how the previous day was, or what we wanted to accomplish that day. I found this time to be perfect to go to the roof, sit by myself, and just think away the hour until breakfast. I took about six days of my spirit being beaten and tired to the point of exhaustion that I finally found what I was looking for. It was not what I thought it would be at all.

I thought the reason why I was going on this trip was to help solve Jamaica’s problems - pure and simple. I now see how naïve I was to think I could instantly heal the wounds of years of turmoil in a just a few days of labor and prayer. This is my first mission trip and I knew nothing about what it really means to be a missionary, but I wanted to give it everything I had. Before this trip, my faith could be described as “shaky” at best, and one could call me agnostic without much fault.  It wasn’t until we went to a place called “Petersville” that I finally had my outlook changed.

Today wasn’t our first trip to Petersville, but it was definitely the most powerful. The first day there our only goal was to gain the people of Petersville’s trust. We carried gallons upon gallons of water from the only spigot located in the middle of the village to all houses spread out sporadically among the hills. Being a YMCA counselor for almost a third of my life made it easiest for me to bond with the kids of Petersville. I have never seen so many kids appear seemingly out of nowhere, just to see a bunch of white people equipped with only water jugs to carry and tennis balls to play with. Their positive attitude was really eye opening… How could these kids with nothing be so happy just to toss a ball with a stranger? This feeling filled the air and consequently lifted my spirit as well. It was in Petersville that I met Hubert, an 11 year old boy that I instantly connected to even through our language barrier. Ill spare you the details, but basically it took me three days of playing and teaching him math and reading that I finally got him to smile. It made me happy to know I had made my first friend in Jamaica.

I went home today and thought again of why I was here. I came to a much different conclusion that I did a few days earlier. I realized that I had looked at everything all wrong and gained a new perspective.

I now see that the awful smell of the burning trash was just their best way to get rid of waste without a trash system that comes to your house and empties your barrels for you. I now see that the cuts and bruises on the kids are just a mark of their determination to play even in such a harsh place, and never think about trying to grow up too fast. I admire that about them. I now see the honor in working as a doctor in such a crowded hospital and will never know the perseverance it must take to be there every day.  I now see that when I was so lost for words earlier this week in the old folks home that holding a women’s hand and sitting next to her in silence was the best thing I could have done. I now see that the girl in the hospital with no name at least had me around even if just for a few minutes to pray over her and just be there for her even if she wasn’t conscious. I now see that when I thought my heart was being torn open by such sad sights was actually the complete opposite. I now see that God was not tearing down my heart but opening it up to let in more love than ever before. I now know that what I was praying to find, finally revealed itself. I wasn’t helpless all along, but was helping the communities every day and in doing so, God was helping me.

I’ve learned a lot about myself, and about the world thanks to this trip. I finally learned the meaning of “one love”. I’ve learned to believe someone when they look you in the eye and say “please”. I’ve learned that giving something away feels a million times better than receiving it. I’ve learned all the things my grandpa used to tell me all the time, was and still is true. I understand the true meaning of “money can’t buy you happiness.” What they really mean is that everybody can afford to happy. I’ve learned you can find out what the “TRUTH IS”, a lot easier if you search within yourself, than if you try to find it on facebook. I’ll never forget where I came from, and I now have a clearer sight of where I wanna go… I love Jamaica... I love the team I’m here with, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

The connection between weight loss and hope

Where have I been?

I haven't posted in a while. I haven't had a life changing AHA moment to share with the world. I also haven't been in a deep valley. I have been right in the middle.

The middle...is a scary place. When I think all is well, and there is no struggle, and things are coasting along, I tend to give up. Not because I mean to, but because I forget. I forget that for me, the weight loss thing is a battle. And if I lose the battle, I lose hope.

This week, a project I have been working on for months and months now, has moved on. Our Jamaica container truck came, and today it drove off filled to the brim with boxes and bins and mattresses and bikes that we have been collecting and praying over for almost a year now.

So now what? My project is over, so what do I do? It may sound weird, but part of me lost - hope. Part of me thought, "well, back to my old life now." But the old life is not an option for me anymore. I gave away all my clothes to Goodwill. I wear smaller pants. I eat differently. I work out. But all of that wouldn't matter if I didn't believe in myself and believe more in the NEW life.

In a sense, watching Jim and Penie Koch drive that Penske truck away made me think about all of my own baggage and what I choose to hold onto versus what I know I have to leave behind. At the end of my life, what will I care to hold onto? What will matter the most? Even more specifically, at the end of my day today, will I really care that I didn't get to eat that brownie that everyone else enjoyed last night? Will I really miss out on the double helping of lasagna that I skipped?

Nope. And that, to me, is hope. I am able to see past a temporary pain for a permanent future. And so we continue - to hope. And unlike food, hope does NOT disappoint.

-Liz