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Praying in color

Praying in color

Sometimes prayer can be overwhelming. We don’t know where to begin, or what words to say.  We have groanings in our spirit too deep for words that only the Spirit can understand. Have you ever just not prayed when you felt this way?  I have.  Feeling like I must have words to attach to my feelings in order to make God understand makes God small. He is the Lord of all.  He knows our hearts.

When we can’t find the words, sometimes an activity can help us focus and express our thoughts.  This is20151014_053647called active meditation.  Now don’t freak out at the word meditation, I’m not going woo-woo on you.  Ever heard of a prayer walk?  Same concept.  For me, coloring allows me to wordlessly express my yearning for peace and beauty – what I look for when I connect with God.  By coloring I put myself in a meditative or prayerful state, God does the rest.  He calms me and restores my soul, just as described by David who wrote Psalm 23 (who incidentally prayed through music and singing of songs).

Coloring for adults has been rapidly gaining in popularity.  As of this morning, four books on Amazon’s top 20 best seller list are coloring books.  I got mine from a local bookstore as I was preparing myself for my first infusion treatment for Crohn’s disease.  I was terrified.  I didn’t know what to expect.  I knew I needed something that would take my mind off of the nurses, needles, and the drug being pumped into me over a 3 hour period.  When I sat in the chair, I took out my coloring book and pencils and began to focus on beauty and serenity.  God met me there, and I am grateful.

mandala1    mandala2

Have you tried coloring as a meditation or prayer?  Pop over to my facebook page and post your pictures, I’d love to see some of your work.

My nosy neighbor and other well meaning people

My nosy neighbor and other well meaning people

e367a15f-18fe-4e44-9018-41aa6ec74592Sigh… I thought I’d be able to duck into my house before she saw me. No chance. The lady across the street flagged me down and started marching across the street with a sense of urgency. I plastered a smile on my face and welcomed her to my front porch.  I was tired and had not been feeling well.  In fact, I had felt progressively worse over the entire summer.     But, as worn out as I was, I welcomed this neighbor.  I wondered what was so important that she had to share.

“I see that you have just gotten home, so I won’t keep you.” she said.  “Can I come by on Saturday to talk for a bit?”  “Sure.” I said.  “I will be at home.”  She thanked me and hurried back across the street.  I wondered what it could possibly be that she wanted to tell me?  Was it some neighborhood gossip?  Was she going to run for a seat on the HOA committee?  Did she want me to join a network marketing business?  I had no idea.

Saturday rolled around and my neighbor came over.  After a little small talk, she dropped her bomb.  “I have noticed that you have not been walking like you used to.  I am concerned because you need to lose more weight.”  Wait…what?  Did this woman actually come into my house, sit on my couch, and tell me that I am still too fat and need to lose more weight?  “Well,” I said with all the graciousness I could muster, “I have not been feeling well this summer.”   Apparently my neighbor was monitoring my activity and felt the need to investigate.

“You haven’t been feeling well?  All summer?  What is going on with you?  What is your diet like? You should at least walk.  I’m only here because I care.”  Again, I deflected her inquiries, but began to feel worn down by her rapid fire questions assaulting me in my living room.  I don’t know how I managed to keep my composure, but somehow I got her to leave without any bloodshed.  How dare she take it upon herself to ask these pointed, personal health questions.  How dare she assume I was lying about not feeling well and that I was just being lazy and not working out.  It infuriated me.  At this point I could totally relate to pregnant women that describe bellygrabbers who feel it is perfectly OK to molest their bellies and give unsolicited advice about what they should be doing during their pregnancy.

After a summer of doctor appointments and uncertainty, I finally have a diagnosis.  I have Crohn‘s CCFA-Stalldisease.  The diagnosis rocked my world.   They don’t talk about being healed of this disease.  The language they use is remission – like cancer.  The threat of the illness plaguing me for the rest of my life has been a mental, emotional, and spiritual burden.  Well meaning people who tell me about someone else they know who has the disease and how awful it is for them, or tell me what I need to be eating, or share some home remedy that helped their friend’s cousin’s co worker’s wife  can all take a hike.  I feel like they are trying to take the reins of my life.  Not being in control of what is going on in my body is quite enough without allowing other people to direct where I go and what I do to preserve my health.

So much has flooded my mind.  Will the prescribed treatment work? Will I achieve remission soon?  Will I be able to continue working?  Will be unafraid to have intimacy with my husband? Will I be able to leave my house for more than 2 hours at a time? I don’t know.  What I do know is that God is a healer.  What I am choosing to believe is that this sickness is not unto death.  Not an emotional death. Not a spiritual death.  Not the death of my career. Not even the death of my sex life.

I have elbows

I never wanted to be skinny.  The idea never turned me on.  In fact, growing up, I associated skinny people with people who were unkind.  I never wanted to be unkind.  I never wanted to be that.  I don’t really remember my peers ever being unkind.  It was adults.  Skinny women to be exact.  I remember hearing comments about the volume I ate.  I remember disapproving looks.  I remember feeling discomfort radiate off of them when I got too close. I never really understood what that was about.  I never felt any of those negative unkind vibes from larger people. I always felt acceptance from larger people, and eventually I became one of them.

In 2011 I was the largest I had ever been.  My size had never really kept me from doing the things I wanted to do, but tipping the scales at 425lbs made life harder.  My body gave me plenty of signals that it was time to address my weight.  I never had any “fat people diseases” like diabetes, high blood pressure, or things of that nature.  I was just fat.  Just fat.  My knees and feet were aching way too much, and I began to find it difficult to engage life the way I wanted to.  A perfect example was in July of 2011.  I went to a Joel Osteeen event in my area with my mom.  We had our tickets, got there early, and found our seats.  Uh, oh.  I didn’t fit.  The tight arena stadium seating just did not accommodate a 425 pound Hope.  I refused to let this setback keep me from enjoying the event. I looked around and saw a nearby was a section that had roomier seating. So,  my mom and I went to the ticket counter, explained that I could not fit in the regular seats, and asked if we could swap our tickets to the seating area where there was more room.  Imagine my dismay when I found out it was the handicapped seating area!!!!  I swallowed hard, fought back tears, and formed the words that identified myself as handicapped.

Yes, I was physically more comfortable in the handicapped section, but my spirit was troubled.  I could no longer deny that my size had become an issue.  It was taking away my freedom.  It was confining me to limited life experiences.  It was relegating me to the fringes where people are pitied.  I could not ignore or rationalize it away anymore.  My tears had caught up with me by now, but before I could descend into depression, I felt the Lord speaking to me.  I felt the distinct impression of a particular number.  It was as if the Lord was telling me the exact amount that he wanted me to lose.  When I heard the number, I said to myself, “how on earth am I supposed to do that?”  I had tried all different ways to lose weight in the past.  I had tried diets, exercise programs, personal trainers, and even pills. I never experienced lasting success.  But the Lord was telling me that He wanted me to shed 250lbs and to get out of the handicapped section. Where He gives the vision, he makes provision.

As of the writing of this post, I have lost 110lbs.  To God be the glory.

I was relaxing at home with my husband a few weeks ago and I noticed my elbow.  I could feel the bones.  I told him to feel it.  He felt my arm and said, “you are getting bony!”  This is not a compliment for me.  As I mentioned above, being skinny is not one of my life goals.  As I continue to lose weight I am having to battle old beliefs about smaller people as I become smaller myself. I still have a ways to go, but the smaller woman is coming out and I’m not sure I like her. I am seeing angles in my face where there was once roundness.  I feel my hip bones, knees and elbows for the first time.  It is disturbing to feel their sharpness. Will this new woman I am becoming be kind, or will she be sharp and unforgiving like a bony elbow?

A healthy outlook

A healthy outlook

Ah, where do I begin?  I discovered my elbows.  I was just diagnosed and began treatment for a chronic illness.  I’m navigating a minefield of nosy neighbors and other well meaning people who have something to say about my health.  Making the time for mental health.  Aging gracefully.

A conversation about a healthy outlook?  Should be a good week.

A Light Bulb Moment

A Light Bulb Moment

“Talent is universal, but opportunity is not.” – Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl Wudunn

How would you explain electricity to someone who had never had an experience with it?  How would you define your life?  How would you explain your productivity and comfort due to this power.  On the flip side, if you had never experienced electricity, but met someone who had unlimited access to it, how would you relate to them when every aspect of their lives is influenced by this unknown?  You are two people of equal intelligence. Of equal value.  But one has a clear advantage, and one is left in the dark.

12032864_10153195559345886_81845878796489627_oThis image I found on Dave Ramsey’s Facebook page pretty much sums it up.  This week of reflection about money and finances has been illuminating. I have acknowledged where I came from and now I must make a decision on how to move forward. What actions do I take to seize opportunity and kick fear in the teeth?  Well, I can start with gratitude:

  • I can read
  • I have access to YouTube
  • I have the mental capacity to learn
  • When I get scared, or overwhelmed by my past.  God is with me.

I can do this.  And if you have been tracking with me this week, so can you.

 

Financial Fears

Financial Fears

Death by suffocation.  Sound appealing?  When I think about things objectively, the obvious answer is no, but for years, this was my practice.  When I came to things financial, my first response to the overwhelm I felt was to put my head in the sand.  If I didn’t open the bills when the arrived in the mail, they didn’t exist.  Right?

ostrich

My decision to to ignore my financial obligations, as you can imagine, ended up costing me quite a lot. I was suffocating. I was dying.  The shame I felt about being poor that I was carrying around from childhood had affected how I lived as an adult.  I relegated myself to living small.  To under earning.  To failure.  In addition to increased poor self esteem, it caused rifts in two of my dearest friendships.  I don’t know if I will ever be able to repair the damage to one of them.

The shame I felt from being poor as a child did affect me, but I know I can’t stay there in that mindset.  I want to be free.  Freedom requires something of me.  I recognize that breaking out of these patterns will take time. I know that making better choices from now on is in my control.  Facing the shame is terrifying.  It feels as though I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  But I can praise the Lord that He is with me, because as I name my shame and identify what my feelings are, I have the power to make a healthier choice.  I have the power to raise my head from the sand, take a deep breath and realize that the world has not come crashing down.  Yes I have a situation to face.  Yes it is scary to me.  But I am more than a conqueror through Jesus Christ.  His promises are yes and amen, and he promises that I do not need to fear or be dismayed because He is with me.