How to Lose

In April 2021, I left my job with UPS to begin a new life. I had plans, things I wanted to accomplish. Retirement hasn't been the radical transformation I anticipated, but some things have changed: I've actually stayed up past 10 PM a time or two, I have dinner with my family more than once a week, and I was able to sell my vehicle (Something New, July 2021). Oh, and I've lost some weight-- twenty-five pounds to be exact! I feel terrific! As human beings, we are created to adapt. Our bodies adjust to some pretty significant fluctuations in temperature, our minds can reason-- a characteristic that goes beyond simple learned behaviors, and we have a natural emotional resilience that allows us to carry on even after deep hurt. Weight loss was not part of my "retirement plan." The weight I carried was almost invisible to me, but my body was breaking down at a much faster rate due to the stress of excess weight. Without realizing, I scaled back my activity or "favored that knee." Looking in the mirror, I'd gotten used to what I saw. As my blood work approached "borderline this" and "borderline that" each year, I made excuses. I would have never guessed I needed to lose twenty-five pounds.

The baggage we carry through life is like that. We believe one tiny lie-- You'll never change. Are you sure God said that? What makes you think God cares? --and before you know it, we're carrying around twenty-five pounds of fear, insecurity, doubt, wrong information. It happens so gradually, we barely feel the mounting burden. We make excuses or wait for something outside ourselves to change. But eventually, we become accustomed to carrying all that weight and no longer see the need to shed anything-- or worse, we're more comfortable with it than even thinking about life without it.

For years I'd dismiss people who said weight loss or healthy eating made them feel so much better. Just how much better can losing a few pounds make you feel? How much difference can ten pounds make in your health? Tons! As I felt better, I challenged myself to "one more change" or set my sights on maintaining a healthy routine for "one more day." Physical changes and mental changes went hand-in-hand, pushing me-- one small step at a time-- toward better overall health.

Jesus has made a difference in me. He is continuing to make a difference in me. Barring Divine intervention, however, I've seen few instantaneous results; it is a daily routine. I read His word each day; I talk to Him throughout the day; I fellowship with other believers, celebrating goals met or holding one another accountable when we miss them; I look for ways to give or serve more; I keep my eyes and ears fixed on Him and Him alone for best results. I don't look at others or fixate on who I want to be (or think I need to be); I don't stress about progress or what it will be like when I reach that place; I simply hold His hand and follow where He leads. Or, at least, I hope to. 

People ask how I lost the weight and I give the answer I always hated to hear: more activity, less food. But it's the truth. And it's a simple, truthful answer when it comes to moving through life as a follower of Jesus Christ. How did you conquer fear? More truth, fewer lies. How did your marriage recover from that? More Jesus, less ego. How did you stop being so anxious? More following, less trying to lead. How did you quit drinking? More obedience, less rebellion. How do you live with that kind of loss? More worship, less grief. Abiding in Jesus, seeking truth, shedding pound after pound of baggage, day by day. 

Jesus Is Still There

I opened the door to Mom's room that morning with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief because, though I'd heard nothing from her room, and it was about an hour after she normally began her drumming and whistling, it appeared all was well. Disappointment because-- well, I was going to have to do this for at least one more day. 

Caring for someone all day, every day is difficult. Caring for someone you've had to prop up most of your life is difficult. Caring for someone who cannot return the kindness is difficult. Caring for someone who will never improve, who will only not require care under the worst of circumstances, is difficult. Caring for someone and at the same time desiring to be free --knowing what that means and how very selfish that sounds-- can be unbearable. I reached unbearable a long time ago. I say this not because I crave sympathy or "attaboys" or those sad little "care" emojis they added to Facebook a while back; I say this because I want you to know how God has propped me up in all of this. I tell you these things because, on my own, I am a mess. I get tired. I get frustrated. I get annoyed. I get resentful. There have been times I think I've felt Jesus right there in my kitchen, and still my spirit is raging and screaming, still I am trying to resist the urge to simply lock the doors and leave, still I am holding my lips closed tightly with my teeth and wishing that Please, for the love of God! I could just have one day without her. 

But in all of that inner noise, in all of that chaos and pain, in all of that rebellion-- Oh, and that's what it is, my friend. It is rebellion! --Jesus doesn't leave. When I'm through with my fit, He is still there. When my next one begins, He is still there. The Incarnate Deity is with me in all of my ugly. As a child I was taught God cannot look on my sin --no pressure there, huh? Sin as grounds for abandonment? Well, the truth of it is, my sin is grounds for more than abandonment --eternal death, even. But God's greatness is the impetus for Jesus. Jesus on the cross, pouring out every drop of His precious blood in my place; Jesus pleading guilty to my rebellion and declaring me the innocent, obedient one. Jesus standing in my kitchen with me, despite my surrender --or, on particularly unmanageable days, surrenders-- to sin.

In the mornings I sit, my journal and God's word open before me. And, like Habakkuk, I voice my complaint and I plead for answers. Why can't I just do this one thing right? Why must this be so hard? And, because I am finally quiet, because my heart is no longer screaming in rebellion but is now crying out in pain and helplessness, because Jesus is still there, He says to me, "Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." To Him. I gently washed His hands, or I violently scrubbed at His dentures. I cheerfully served Him breakfast, or I curtly gave directions on where to sit for the third time. I smiled, sitting across from Him as He drummed and "KUH-KUH"ed, or I sighed deeply and clenched my jaw as I tried to concentrate with all of that noise. 

But Jesus didn't stop there. "Pour out your love for Me on her," He said this time. Almost immediately I caught a glimpse of a woman, long dark hair wet with tears on Jesus' feet. I could smell precious oil and feel the heaviness of her passion. Pour out your love for Me on her. Then came the image of a Man, slowly taking a knee before His friends and quietly, softly washing their feet. I could hear the trickle of water as it returned to the bowl below. Pour out your love for Me on her. Jesus was there, as always, caring for me and giving me something to hold onto throughout the day. I can rage and rebel, or I can sit quietly before Him each time the journey becomes unbearable. I can stir up the storm in my spirit hoping its roar will drown out her nonsensical noise (It never does), or I can choose to serve Mom as though I was serving Him. Either way, Jesus will still be there, waiting for me to pour out my love for Him. His faithfulness is reason to celebrate!

The Worst That Could Happen Can't Happen

What's the worst that could happen?

That was a question I asked myself many times. Usually, right before I did something incredibly stupid. The truth is, I never found out. Not because I didn't get caught, but because the worst never came (by God's grace). And, as a follower of Jesus Christ, it never will. It's true my life has been transformed; I no longer live the way I did before and I no longer desire to live that way. The likelihood of spending a night in a jail cell because I broke into a construction site is much less than it was way back when. However, there's more. As a follower of Jesus, the "worst that could happen" has been completely taken off the table. Imagine that! In Christ, "the worst that could happen" will never happen to me. Now I'm not talking some prosperity stuff, some name it/ claim it perversion of Scripture. What I mean is, the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone is dying without a relationship with Jesus. And it will not happen to me.

That leaves me free to do anything God tells me to do! I can love the people who hate me. I can give as much as God tells me to give, cheerfully. I can pray without ceasing and rejoice even in trouble. I can believe in things I haven't even seen come to fruition if God has promised them. I can give my life back to God in whatever way He designs without worrying about failure. Obedience is my success. Some of the greatest acts of kindness and selflessness were done in obedience to God. Some of those even cost men and women their lives. But the worst thing that could happen didn't happen to them either. 

Whether you believe it or not, this time on earth is not the end. We were never made to live this way, in a corrupt and decaying world, in sick and deteriorating bodies. Sin is the cause for the way we live today. The Bible says all of creation suffers the consequences of mankind's choice and awaits the day it will be free. But in the meantime, here we are. This is a season of decision making --deciding to serve God or reject Him; and a season of opportunity --the opportunity to live as if the worst that could happen will never happen to us or to live as if we don't care if it does. When I used to follow that question with an act of sheer stupidity, it was because I thought I could "beat the odds," or I could handle the consequences; and there are plenty of people out there today living their lives in the same manner. They've decided to reject God and their rejection is carried along only by their arrogance or by what they imagine the worst could ever be. God's word is clear, dying outside of the righteousness of Christ is as bad as it gets.

But for those who trust in Jesus Christ as their Savior, the worst that could happen is no longer an option. God uses everything for our good. The sufferings of this life on earth are reminders that we are not as spectacular as we believe ourselves to be, nor are we as important; they remind us how generous God is and how we much we, in and of ourselves, lack; they remind us what Jesus obediently endured for us; they lift our eyes from chronic navel-gazing to training all of our consciousness on Christ. In all of this we move toward becoming more like Jesus. Even death renders us in the presence of our Lord and Redeemer. And that is the best that could happen.

Friendship Sweeter Than Cupcakes

Have you ever considered just how much God loves you? Better than that, have you ever taken the time to really consider the many ways He demonstrates He loves you each day? James 1:17 says,

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.

Every good and every perfect gift are from God who, though He is the Creator and Sustainer of the heavenly bodies, does not shift and change, rise and set as they do. He is consistent and does not show favoritism, shining on one while plunging others into darkness. We all have been given the opportunity to know Him, to spend eternity with Him, and to experience His abundant blessings. And He never stops giving! One of my favorite blessings has come in the form of friendship.

A few years back, one of my coworkers asked my maiden name. Upon hearing it, he said he thought we had a mutual friend. "Who's your friend?" I asked. "Heath," was his reply.

I don't know about you, but there aren't too many Heaths in my life. In fact, there's only one. And to be honest, this Heath is so special, I don't think another would compare even if there was one. Heath and I went to elementary school together. Just before junior high, I switched schools, and we lost touch; but the memory of his thousand-watt smile and his incredible drawings never faded --Oh! and his mom; his mom is where he got his "special." That woman was amazing! 

Heath and I love to stroll down memory lane. We talk about classmates and parties and plays and teachers. We talk about our mothers, both "homeroom moms" for our class. Heath raves about Mom's "famous" cupcakes and how much he liked having her around. From time to time, we'll do breakfast, and I bring her along. He treats her like a celebrity every time! We talk about the games we played on the playground, field trips, and the great songs we learned in Mrs. Mina's music class. We share what our lives were like outside of school, something we never really discussed when we were kids. And though it is wonderful fun, there is a much deeper blessing in it: seeing my life through someone else's eyes. 

I have seen my childhood through the lens of pain, betrayal, addiction, dysfunction. I have seen the "good stuff" Mom did --the decorating, the cupcakes-- as ways she pretended to the world that we were normal despite the chaos in which we lived. To me, it has been a callous denial of the injuries I suffered. But Heath reminds me that school was a safe place, full of caring and talented teachers who taught for the love of teaching in a time when local schools were a place of community in which parents were fully invested. And it was a place of character and childhood wonder. Heath remembers Mom's cupcakes with joy: colorful treats, a special labor that made our classroom parties a little more sweet. To him, they are the product of someone who cared enough to make our childhood memorable. His enthusiasm is contagious and I begin to see them not through the eyes of a hurt and broken woman, but through the eyes of a child, loved by a lifelong friend and blessed by the Father who loves her enough to send him to her. In this season, I have received a good and perfect gift in a friendship sweeter than cupcakes!