The Saga of the Tiny Tricycle

The fall air was moving at just the right speed, with a perfect amount of sunny warmth in it this afternoon to pull me out side to watch my two children play with the neighbor kids.  The last few weeks have been ideal for many hours outside after school, soaking up every last minute of left-over summer weather.  As often happens when children spend many hours together, the squabbles have increased between the children---the girls specifically.

Today's particular disagreement was centered around a tiny red tricycle.  The trike is too small for any of the three girls hoping for a turn.  Nevertheless, they would precariously balance one child on the seat to pedal, and another girl would set herself down on her bum where the feet should go of someone hitching a ride.  The girls liked the challenge, and the oldest girl, who is eight, really enjoyed being in charge of this "daring carnival ride."  She was often in the "driver's seat" and enjoyed the high honors that came with being in control.

My daughter, Lydia, who is four, also desires control.  She loves being in charge and is willing to assert that independence towards anyone, no matter if that person is twice her age or not!  So, eventually, Lydia's need to lead seemed to overcome her and when the neighbor girl dismounted, Lydia jumped at the chance to be the captain of the tricycle.  As Lydia hopped on, her speed was a little much, her  pedaling a little too vigorous, and her balance was off just enough that somehow she tipped over that tricycle.

As I watched in horror as this little incident took place, I heard the eight year old say, "Hahaha!  You deserved that."

 The tears were flowing from Lydia's eyes, as she was hurt from the fall, and wounded by the words of a friend.  But, I knew she was in the wrong for being so hasty and deceitful about gaining leadership of the tiny red trike.  My heart hurt in the way only a Mommy's can...it hurt for the wrong done BY Lydia, but also the wrong done TO Lydia.

I felt I handled it the best I could.  Making sure Lydia was okay physically, I asked her to dismount the tricycle and surrender her newly gained control.  Honor gained dishonorly has no place in our family.  I want her to make sure she remembers that lesson her entire life.  I asked her to apologize.  She did.  Sincerely.

Then, I did something that sometimes I do not take the time to do, or something I sadly even don't allow Lydia to do at times.  I let her share her hurt with me.  It hurt that her friend rejoiced in her pain.  I let her share that with me.  She flopped her little sweaty head on my shoulder.  I watched as three little tears rolled over the crest of her cheek, down over the sad lines of her tiny, pouting mouth.  

At that moment, I had a parent epiphany.  Something that I said there in the moment that I know was a gift to me from the Holy Spirit.  I told her, "Lydia, sometimes people are going to hurt you.  I know in the past I've told you not to tattle, but Mommy feels that from now on as long as you are telling Mommy to help your heart heal, and not telling to try to get another person in trouble, that you can tell me anything you want."  I realized so often that I was stopping Lydia from tattling when all she really wanted was me to care for her injured spirit.  

As her mom, I'm happy to do that.  After all, I feel like God does that with me all the time.  I continually make mistakes that cause harm, and then when I have consequences of those mistakes come back to haunt me, I cry to my Heavenly Father.  I know I deserve my punishment and plight, but I just want God to hear how I'm feeling.

The neighbor girl, who is as sweet as pie normally, apologized a little later on, and playtime continued happily.  Until Micah threw up his snack.  But, well, you win one battle just to move on to the next in mothering!

Brave

Posting this picture on my blog is probably the bravest thing I've done...maybe not in my whole life, but definitely in a long time.

This picture showed me at my heaviest.  360 pounds.  I look at this picture and shame still lingers.  Not even so much because of what I weighed but because of who I was then.  I was a person and a mom that I didn't like very much.  Looking back, I was rather lazy.  I rarely cooked dinner, I would only brush my hair when going places, I slept more than I was awake.  It was next to impossible for me to play with Micah at that point (he was one when I took this picture).  That summer was a low point in my life.  I was starting to isolate myself.  This picture proves it.  The only reason I was outside that particular August evening is because David asked me to walk with him.  I changed into my jeans, yet there I am, still wearing my green pajama shirt.  I have no idea why in the world I would have let a camera in David's hands that day, but there I am...pajama shirt and all.  This was a week before my weight loss journey started.  I was miserable.  Depressed.  Imprisioned.

I was about to be set free!

Here it is 6 years later.  I weigh 312.8 as of this morning.  The weight does not come off easy for me, but I've been persistent.  If I stop trying, it's not for long.  I play with my kids.  I smile.  And most days I change out of my pajamas!  I cook dinner for my family---and sometimes even for other people!  I'm no longer ashamed of the junk I eat, because I'm feeding myself nutritious, delicious food.  I'm making a difference in the world by volunteering with MOPS and at my church, and I'm no longer isolating myself, rather I'm opening a window into my world by allowing friendships to blossom and my story to be read on my blog.

I refuse to give up.  I will never stop fighting.  I will see my success, no matter how slow, as victory.  I will praise God for standing next to me each step of the way.  I will thank Him for all the friends and support He has showered me with.  I will live as a living sacrifice, learning to treat my body the way God intended for me to treat it...with care and respect.

And that's really all I wanted to say about that today! :0)

Progress and Peace

Peace and progress.
I'm seeking both.

As this new school year has started, I've zeroed back in on my weight loss journey.  Really, over the course of the summer, I made wonderful progress.  I lost 15 pounds over the summer, however I had kind of left exercise in the dust.  As my focus on weight loss has become almost laser-like, I've really anticipated tangible progress.  And I bet you know what I mean...the scale.

However, despite eating spot on for nearly two weeks, and despite adding exercise to my daily routine, that scale is not being nice to me.  Not one bit.  Infact, last week, I was anticipating a 3 pound loss, and wouldn't you know, the scale said I GAINED two!  It was heart breaking.  Angering.  Frustrating.

But, sometimes, even in the midst of those negative emotions provoked by the scale, I remember the truth.  I'm seeking both peace and progress.  I feel peace about what I'm feeding my body.  I don't feel guilt after a meal.  I know that I'm giving my body nutrients and that if anyone looked at my food journal they would find a very well balanced eating plan.  Not to mention that I'm staying well within my parameters for caloric intake.

And, when I'm using self talk to get me through that moment of temptation, whether it would be a big slice of chocolate cake, or simply getting off the couch when I exercise, I remember that progress is a lot more than just a number on a metal box.

This weekend, David, Micah and I joined our church family for a trip to the Creation Museum.  While I was there, I walked for over 5 hours.  That in and of its self is progress.  But, I think back just to last May when walking would cause my legs to cramp and I would be miserable for days.  Now, I'm trekking all over museums, walking my kids to school, and I'm doing it all without leg cramping or even foot pain.  That's progress.

I have so much more energy.  Even this morning, I rose before my alarm clock.  I spent time reading God's word.  I spent time just sitting in quiet with the Lord.  Asking Him for an obedient heart.  That's progress.

I'm not giving up.  I want to hit my 50 pounds lost so badly.  I refuse to quit.  And after that, I want to push through and keep losing.  I would have loved to hit 60 pounds lost by my doctors appointment, and as my weight loss stalls, it does not look like that will happen.  However, I know that I'm making progress.  And that gives me peace.

Being Home and Being Still

Mmmm...cinnamon is in the air.

I read today that today is the beginning of meteorological autumn.  And while most people go crazy for pumpkin spiced drinks and desserts during fall, I love cinnamon!

Right now, I'm simmering two pans of pears to make cinnamon pear sauce!

It's been a very nice weekend.  I have not driven since 3:30p.m. on Friday.  I've been at my home, homemaking, do things I love to do.  Reading the Bible with my children.  Playing UNO and Farkle with family.   Yesterday Aunt Terry and Uncle David came over, with ten year old Lexi.  We enjoyed a nice dinner on the deck (freshly painted!) with them, along with some nice time in prayer.  Worshiping the Lord with my church family, which as of late has included my parents too! Afterwards, my parents came over for a Sunday dinner, and when they left I took a heavenly nap.

It's been a long time since I've just relaxed.  It was just what I needed.

Last night, as bedtime grew closer, my anxiety grew.  So, I opened up my Bible and a devotional.  I read these amazing words from Psalm 46:10.  "Be still and know that I'm God."  

I sat there, with my eyes closed, and just asked God to help me be still and believe and have faith.  

I slept very well last night, thanks to the Lord Almighty.

Tomorrow morning, I hope to rise a bit earlier than my family and go sit on my porch swing and embrace that stillness some more.

I'm learning that stillness requires much more discipline than busyness.

First Day of School

Three blocks away, in a dull roar of excitement, new sneakers, and fresh haircuts, my children are adjusting to the new school year.  I had planned on walking them to school today, only to have that plan washed out by a steady, calm rain.  So, we drove on over to the school and got them settled in.  (Well, Lydia was still crying when I left, but I know that she will be enjoying her preschool day in no time!)

Back here at home, I'm enjoying hearing the rain.  I did a list of 8 things in 38 minutes.  I've been pondering scriptures as I roam around my house piecing this leftover summer mess together.  I've been thinking of how much inner turmoil my heart has had lately.  I've been thinking about a stress test I will be taking on Friday and praying the results are positively connected to the hard work I've done with my weight loss.

I also took the time to sign back into MyFitnessPal and enter in my newest weight.  According to MFP, I've lost 44 pounds since I started tracking on their site.  That's quite an accomplishment.  I've been  very aware of what I've been eating lately, and I've been making purposeful decisions to include more veggies and to eat only what my body needs.  Truthfully, that has been very easy since my appetite has been all but non-existent lately.  Even my "old normal" go to's like pizza and ice cream make me queasy.  But, nevertheless, it still takes discipline to make sure you are eating chicken and green beans when you do not have an appetite.

I miss my kids, but I'm so relieved to have solitude.  Next week the ministries that I'm involved in will kick in and my daytimes will be a little more busy and people filled.  I'm just going to enjoy this day, rejoice in the Lord and try to hand my worries over to Him, one by one.

8:01 am

The time is 7:55am.
At 8:00 the phone lines will open for my doctors office.  I will call and hear the news.
Something came back wrong with my blood work.
I got the message last night about 4 minutes after Deb, the nurse, left for the day.
So, I've been waiting.
For hours.
Wondering.  Anxious.  Trying to rest in God's peace.
I've prayed.
I've hoped.
I've tried positive thinking.
I've prayed more.
I've had my friends pray.
And I've had David pray.

This morning I had a stroke of genius, and I opened God's word.  (I know?!?)
Deuteronomy 31:8 "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you;  he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

God's already there.  He knows what the phone call is about.  He knew what my lab results would be.  I need to let go of my anxiousness and know that God commands me to not be afraid or discouraged.  Time to cling to the Word of God in all it's amazing power.

Oh, it's now 8:01am.

The Tale of Summer Sunday School Skipper

Many times in live, as we grow, as we age, as we see God's calling a tad bit more clear, we discover things about ourselves that are very surprising.  For me, one of the most startling things is the unlayering of my true personality.  

To be quite honest, for years, I thought that I was as "single layer" as you get.  I was (and still am!) a mostly happy, bubbly, talkative people-lover.  That part has not changed one bit.  However, as God has called me deeper into motherhood, deeper into my faith, and now has instilled a passion in my heart for writing, I'm discovering a new layer of myself.

I'm a secret introvert.  

I definitely have extroverted qualities.  And I love the extroverted lifestyle.

But, for me to recharge, to feel whole, and to feel "me" I have to have time alone.

Many times what you read is a product of that alone time.  And, if you have noticed, there has not been much writing production on my blog this summer.

The simple fact is that I'm almost never alone.

David's been working LONG, LONG hours, which leave him exhausted, and me as the sole parental unit for 90% of the summer days.  I babysit for a living during the summer.  I have four kids (my two included in this) which I never let out of my sight, and most of the time are within touching distance of me.  I answer more, "Mom, how come?" questions than I ever even knew existed. Even my nighttime rest has been interrupted with nightmares, or sore tummies, or an exhausted husbands snores.  

So, a girl like me has to find a way to recharge.  That's why, during the summer, I'm a Sunday School Skipper.  Every Sunday morning, I get up.  I get to church and worship the Lord happily.  I take notes, I get excited how to apply the Scriptures to my life.  After the service, I visit with my church friends.  The smiles warm my heart.  The hugs and prayers soothe my soul.  Then, I drop Micah and Lydia off at Sunday School.  But, after that, the shameful part comes.  Next, I slip out of that church as quickly as I can.  I leave the remaining Humes Family members to be immersed in more Christian Education...and I sneak home.  It's literally the only hour a week I get to myself during the summer.

It's a hard trade off.  I love studying at Sunday School.  I love visiting with other church members before and after class.  But, I can not tell you how good this feels.  I hear birds and a cricket chirping.  I have a beautiful worship CD on, that is turned on just loud enough to hear it.  I can hear the keys of the keyboard clicking as I type.  And I'm alone.  With my thoughts.  With the Word of God.  With my cup of milk and a slice of banana bread.  A chance to sit quiet and let the Holy Spirit fill me before I start all over again this week.

During the school year, I have more of a schedule, and more regular alone time, and I've thoroughly enjoyed the things I've been studying in my Sunday School class.  But, right now, I can't stop praising God that I live almost next door to my church, and I can quietly sneak away and be refreshed...even if it's only for one hour a week. It reinforces to me the Father really cares about his children!  I love being a cherished daughter of the King...the King of the Universe who isn't surprised at all by my newly found desire to hide away in His presence alone.