What Follows 28?

So, I've just completed 28 days following the Fast Metabolism Diet in strict adherence.  I reached my goal and I feel great. I am craving a cup of coffee with cream again. Can I drink it? What about the foods I avoided while following the 28 day regime? I don't want to lose the healthy glow I have or the energy I feel. What next?

Maintenance can sometimes be an unpopular activity. I know from all my previous weight loss journeys that it is often harder than the diet was.

Weight management wasn't an issue for me as a teen. I was a skinny little freckled face farm girl growing up. Even though I gained a TON of weight during both my pregnancies (60# with the first, 45# with the second) I managed to lose all of but 5# with in the first year of their births. And truly at the time, I needed that extra weight. I was too thin.

I didn't start having issues with unwanted weight gain until I was separated from my first husband. For the first time in my adult life I didn't have anyone controlling what I ate so, I ate whatever I wanted. (A lot of despair and anger was soothed by the midnight munchies, a lot of stifled aggression diverted by the drive thru window of Micky-D's) As a result I quickly packed on the pounds. Then life got more settled and calm, I was working a full time job and slowly the weight came back down.

I fell in love and we got married. Happy and content to play homemaker again I started banging out all kinds of wonderful in the kitchen. Aaaannnnnd, the weight crept back on. When one day I saw a picture of myself I knew I had reached the point of desperately needing to do something.

the picture that spurred me to change.

I joined Weight Watchers. I was successful with the program and by the end of the first year had reached my goal. I kept the weight off for several years, then slowly it started creeping back on. Maintenance wasn't going so well.

Next came Curves. Running my own business, working out every day, following the weight management program we promoted, I quickly lost weight. Then the stress of running my own business took it's toll and slowly but surely the weight snuck back on. It seems to be a never ending story with me! Lose it, Gain it. Lost it, Gain it. Aaaaaaghhhh!

The thing each of these weight loss stories have in common was the maintenance phase. Each time I reached a goal and started living out life in maintenance mode, it would only last for so long. Why? Because I had been counting calories or counting points or following specific meal plans and as soon as I returned to eating without counting, my body greedily grabbed hold of each morsel of caloric/ fat and stacked it back on. That is why this 28 Day Fast Metabolism Diet held such appeal. I wanted a metabolism that was on fire! I wanted my food to properly fuel me, to be my ally not my enemy.

So, back to my original question. Can I have my coffee with cream? After following specific phases of eating each week and avoiding certain foods, what do I do now?

Well, since wheat and gluten and corn were already on my "do not touch" list due to food allergies I have no issue with leaving them off for forever! I suspect dairy should not have a primary place in my eating anymore but in moderation I plan to explore that. Many of the things that were strictly OFF THE LIST, during the last month I have no problem leaving behind. And let's be honest, NO ONE can eat anything and everything and expect to stay fit and healthy. We all need to be sensible in our eating choices to be healthy.  But after following the plan that allowed my liver to heal and process food the way it was designed to and for my metabolism to be revved up, I should be able to navigate maintenance successfully. I'll post an update from time to time and let you know how it's going. Feel free to help hold me accountable. :)

Answered Prayer; A Healing Touch

"God is seldom early, but He is never late" ~

 Terry "Mateo" Mattson

I believe in the power of prayer. I am never reluctant to ask someone to pray for me when I am in need, nor am I likely to withhold a prayer for someone else who needs it.  This morning was one of those times where the need for healing prayer was my desperate request.

 I was singing on the Worship Team at our church this morning and in the middle of rehearsal something awful happened. I couldn't open my mouth all the way without experiencing shooting pain through my jaw! Now, it's a little hard to sing if you can't open your mouth, and I'm not trying to be funny. Some notes require a more mouth action than others and as I continued singing along, I found my jaw stubbornly and painfully refusing to cooperate. This was not good! 

I have had TMJ (temporomandibular joint disorder) episodes a few times over the years but is has been a long time since it's caused my jaw to lock or refuse to open wider than needed. When rehearsal was done, several of us gathered, as we do every Sunday morning before service, to pray. I made my plea for prayer for myself and explained the reason. My church family quickly gathered around me and prayed specifically for a healing touch, in order that I could sing.  

I didn't feel anything in that moment, nothing to indicate to me that healing had occurred. In fact the pain was still present and my jaw still stubbornly refusing to cooperate. But I was confident. I believed that God could and would take care of this for me. I really felt like I could handle this little painful episode; I just wanted to be able to open my mouth during singing in order to really make the joyful noise I'd been recruited for!  

Our leader for our Worship Team asked me if I was going to be okay and I nodded emphatically and told her I believed God would give me the ability to do what I needed to do, just when I needed it. 

Guess what? HE DID. 

We went into our worship set and I was able to open my mouth, to sing from my heart and there was no pain in my jaw. It cooperated beautifully. 

When we finished singing and I went to find my seat, I experimented a little by forcing some "yawn" action. OOooOh! Pain! And a limited amount of movement. Just as it had happened during rehearsal. 

I was actually somewhat amused that the pain and lack of mobility had departed just long enough to do what had been asked of me that morning. I mean, we did pray specifically for me to be able to sing and sing well and without pain! At the end of the service when we went back up for one last song I grabbed my mic with confidence that I would once again be able to do my part. 

Yep. No problem. 

After church we had potluck and I found it difficult to eat as once again the jaw was being stiff. but I was happy to report to those who had prayed for me that our prayers had been answered! 

As the day went on I did find the pain slowly subsiding and the ability to open my jaw returning.

In my lifetime I have witnessed and experienced God working in our lives.I have learned that He can do things in an instance and He can do things over a period of time. I don't understand it, but I believe that His timing is perfect and there is a reason only He knows as to why things happen the way they do. I don't understand it but I guess that's not my job. My job is to trust.  

(p.s. as an added bonus, this healing prayer episode seems to have also served as a breakthrough in a case of writer's block that's been plaguing me for a few weeks. So, Yay God!! Thank you!!)

Restored!

photo property of Robyn Burke

Do you believe God heals? 
I do. I have experienced His healing in my life. It took time, because it's a process, but I've healed. 

google images

You may already know this, but I have had surgery for torn rotator cuffs on both of my shoulders. The pain I felt when I injured them was bad enough but honestly, the recovery after surgery was worse! My right rotator had not only torn but there was an impingement in the shoulder area that needed to be fixed. This required some shaving of the bone and a pin was inserted to hold things in place. I don't even like thinking about what all took place while I was knocked out by the anesthesia! However, once I was home and the numbness wore off -- I was TOTALLY aware of just how much tweaking had gone on inside of me! And the pain pills barely took the edge off. If I so much as raised my shoulder even a fraction of a fraction pain would ripple through me. I roared like a lion, I cried like a baby. It hurt!! 

Then... a few weeks later I began physical therapy. Oh. Oh. Oh. Even while I knew that the therapy was designed to help restore healing and it was a necessary evil, that did not stop my tears from trickling down my cheeks as I laid on the therapy table and allowed the therapist to manipulate my shoulder in directions it fought against.  As the weeks went on however, and more flexibility returned to my shoulder, the pain lessened. Eventually I was able to do the exercises on my own, without need for prescription pain pills or even ibuprofen. Eventually the pain subsided until there was no more. 

When I began my adult life as a single mom, I also began a journey of seeking healing for years of abuse. Part of this was dealt with the aid of a gifted, compassionate counselor. Some was accomplished through my private journaling, some in writing letters to those who had hurt me. But the single most powerful healing took place as one by one, I brought those broken places in my heart and laid them before God. It was painful-- Oh! It was painful! For so many years I had buried the hurts deep inside of me, the only way I knew to cope and survive. Inviting Jesus in to heal those areas meant exposing them. Digging up long buried shame and resentment, excavating pits of despair-- there was nothing pretty or pain-free in any of that! 

But God was with me every step of the way. It started when He spoke to me through His word: He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul. (Psalm 23) In that verse I heard Him saying loud and clear, "Come. Come and rest here in this safe and quiet place. Give me the broken pieces- all of them-- and let me begin restoration." 

photo property of Robyn Burke 

Honestly, it was much like surgery and physical therapy! The surgery repaired the broken parts but the therapy brought healing and strength back to the damaged areas. God touched the hurts in my heart, mind and spirit, repairing the damage, and then over the next months and years, worked with me to restore life into those areas I thought were broken beyond repair. 

So much has taken place over the years since I first started that earnest journey into healing and wholeness. Sometimes I look back and shake my head in disbelief that I was once so fragile. God was-- IS-- so faithful. He spoke life back into me. It was a process, just like healing from a broken bone or a shoulder repair, but the torn up places in my spirit have been restored. 

If you have areas in your life that are in need of healing, I encourage you to take the next step to begin the process. Dr. Jesus is waiting. 

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

A sobering realization hit me the other day. There is a lie buried deep in my subconscious that I have taken as truth. Its probably been there since childhood and it has shaped how I interact with God and live my life in relation to Him.

To get this, I have to bring some background into the picture. I was raised in a "God-fearing" church environment. When I say "God- Fearing" I mean just that. I thought of  God as Mighty King and Judge because that was how He was presented to me by the men who preached each Sunday. When I was nine years old I prayed the prayer asking Jesus to save me. I prayed it because I was afraid I was going to go to hell and burn forever.

It wasn't until I was in my 30's that I came to understand that God was more than just someone to fear. I got my first taste of the loving-kindness of Jesus when in my broken state of pre-divorce, with all my ugly hurts spilling out and consuming me, I needed His Grace, Love and Mercy so desperately.  Crying out for Him, He responded: "I want to restore your soul. But I have to have all the pieces."

Full surrender on my part was the key and in that moment I was able to turn to Christ in a way I never had before. Instead of my cries for help based on fear and desperation, I was brought to my knees by His abundant love for me and His desire to have a real relationship with me. That was the turning point and when real growth took place in my walk with the Lord.

Many times of significant healing took place over the next several years and I could feel the chains being broken, link by link, and each day my wings unfurled just a little bit more, allowing me to fly by His grace. Yet, a damaged wing would continue to keep me flying close to the ground, never rising up as high as He or I would love for me to go. I figured this was "OKAY" because He said that in my weakness, I am strong, His grace being all sufficient.

So back to the lie buried inside me that I was accepting as truth. Somewhere, somehow, I came to believe that many of the mistakes I have made are living on in the form of punishment. Punishment from God the Judge. I made a lot of mistakes in my teen years. Running away from home. Marrying at 17. Choices in that first marriage that resulted in years of emotional damage and psychological abuse. I made a lot of mistakes in the years following the divorce, regarding my children and other relationships. And I GET that from choices come consequences. That despite forgiveness we will still have to live with the repercussions of our actions. But it was more than that for me. I was/am still living under the banner of punishment to some degree.

For example. I have had periods of estrangement with both of my children. My son was 13 when I left his dad and things have been strained (to put in mildly) between us since then. The guilt I carry over the way things played out has crippled me in my ability to rebuild a bridge between us. Even though I know that I did the best I could given the broken state I was operating from, and even though I have sought forgiveness from God and from my children, I still struggle with guilt. On some level, I must still believe that I was/am a horrible mother. On some level, deep down, based on all the bad decisions I made, I must think I don't deserve to have a good relationship with my children.

For example. I have had issues with money management from early on. As a single mom I got myself into some deep doo-doo financially. Then I married Bruce and continued to make some poor choices. I'm not talking credit card debt or high stake loans, just every day un-wise, over-spending on things.  A few years ago I got some good prayer council that turned things around for me and I have been able to work with the monthly budget and stick to it. Yet, I realized the other day that on some level I have come to believe the lie that says our current financial issues are a direct result of my past mistakes. That our current situation is a punishment from God the Judge.

Like I said; this has been buried deep inside me, causing me to operate on a subconscious level effectively stunting my spiritual walk. It is time to go back to the basics.... If I confess my sin He is faithful and just to forgive my sin... and He removes my sin as far as the east is from the west. In His eyes I am now forgiven. Righteous.

The enemy would have me believe otherwise, in an attempt to rob me of my joy and of my ability to live in the fullness of Christ. I am coming to see how thinking I should be punished has caused the broken wing that keeps me flying so close to the ground. Yes, I have to live with the consequences of my actions-- if I spend the paycheck unwisely we wont make it to the end of the month-- but facing financial chaos isn't punishment from God. The consequences of my rebellion as a young woman, ultimately resulted in estrangement from my children, but it's not punishment from God.

I am prayerfully committing to having this lie removed from my heart, mind and soul. I am choosing to believe that I am forgiven. I am choosing to live like I am forgiven. In Christ I am a new creation.

I may need (daily) reminders of this until it sticks, but blessedly I know where to go for it.

PAID IN FULL

A HUGE burden was lifted from my shoulders yesterday. So huge, in fact, that I think I will be experiencing the feeling of lightness for weeks to come, perhaps even months.

Just a little over 20 years ago a judgement was handed down as part of my divorce. At the time the amount decreed my responsibility seemed insurmountable, given the fact I was a single mom, working in a minimum wage job. The monthly pay arrangements that my lawyer was able to negotiate were ridiculous low, for which I was grateful, yet the amount of time it would take to pay off the debt, was overwhelming. This debt would be with me for a long time. Think home mortgage long. Adding to this burden was the feeling of injustice, given the facts. As you may know, in my first marriage I lived through a tidal wave of abuse and was forced to go along with things that went deeply against my moral compass and my spiritual beliefs. I truly felt at the time that I had no choice but to go along with whatever crooked scheme my ex had concocted and now as a result, there were debts and transgressions in my name. Debts which I was now saddled with repaying, transgressions that were mine to try and repair.

Right about the time this judgement was given, a new face entered the picture. Yes, the love of my life. I remember the night when shortly after I realized we were heading down the path of seriousness, I felt it was time for full disclosure. I was SCARED TO DEATH to tell him about this giant financial burden I carried, because I knew if we did marry, which indeed it seemed was the direction we were heading, it was a burden that would also impact him. To be honest, he was taken back-- quite a lot, if the expression on his face meant anything-- but he has always had a gracious, forgiving and compassionate nature and so with the best understanding he could muster he said we'd face this together. Ah, bless this man. BLESS this man!!

(aside note: at the risk of mushiness, I just have to give GIANT KUDO's to the man God has seen fit to bless me with. He is indeed the peanut butter to my jelly. The blue in my sky... the... well, you get the picture...)

SO. As I was saying.... 20 years ago a judgement was handed down and every month for the last 20 years I have dutifully made a payment. Some times I was able to increase the monthly set amount, some months it was a struggle to come up with the minimum. For 20 years this judgement, which has always been about more than just the money, has been a part of my life. I would write the check and send that payment off knowing the debt was being chinked away, a little at a time, and I would try to not think about the whys and the therefore's but it was always, always present. Hidden in the shadows maybe, but there none the less.

I made peace with it to a certain degree over time, as God was restoring all the broken places in my heart, mind and soul. First, I had to face my part in all of it. I was a rebellious teen who ran away from home, dated the boy my parents forbid me to, lied and finagled my way to be with him. I had to admit that no one forced me to marry him. I may have felt I had no choice in many things in my life during the marriage but I did have to own up and take responsibility for my actions. I had to forgive myself for the wrongs I did, whether it was of my own volition or something forced upon me. And I had to forgive my ex for the things he put me through. Those things were instrumental in healing and achieving a certain sense of freedom.

We live in a society where debt is common place. We take out loans and mortgages and have credit cards for all the things we want NOW but can't afford. What's one more bill to pay? But this was a bill that was attached to a bitter, shameful past. If I am honest, each month, when I allowed myself to think about what that payment represented, the old hurts would rise up and I would once again have to wrestle with forgiveness and letting go.

But, as I was saying, a HUGE burden was lifted yesterday. I opened my mailbox and found the official document proclaiming my debt PAID IN FULL, the judgement satisfied. I pressed that letter to my chest and let the tears flow. Tears of sorrow for the past, tears of rejoicing for the present and tears of hope for the future. Like I said, I am sure I will be experiencing feelings of lightness for some time to come.

Can I just take another moment to say that this feeling is but a small drop in the bucket compared to the enormous feelings of joy knowing my sins have been forgiven. That Christ PAID THE DEBT IN FULL, when He died for me. That He satisfied the judgement against me once and for all. I am FREE. In Jesus Christ, I am FREE.

it comes in whispers, it comes in shouts

We all have one.
The voice inside our head that tells us things.
You know the one...

you look fat...
he doesn't really love you....
they think you are weird.....
you aren't welcome here...

Sometimes its a subtle little whisper. 
Sometimes it's loud, drowning out the voice of reason.
Sometimes it's an annoying echo in your head, or worse, a damaging dose of poison in your soul.

It sneaks up on you, when you are alone in your room, in front of the mirror. Those pants that looked so good on, in the dressing room mirror don't look as great in the privacy of your own room, where doubts live.

It attacks you in the middle of a party when you see your life partner engaged in conversation with the vivacious hostess.

Insecurities rise up  when you begin to engage in a discussion on biblical truths, insecurities that remind you of your lack of training, your lack of experience and your ridiculous ideas.

Regardless of how much weight you have lost, how many times he has said he adores you, and how hard you studied to prepare, regardless of how many times you have faced this battle and felt victorious, the voice in your head won't stay silent.

The thing we have to understand is that the voice in your head is lying. 

The truth is, the voice in your head isn't your voice--- it's the enemy's and we can choose not to listen.
The truth is, we live in a world fraught with evil. But Jesus has overcome the world.
The truth is our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the powers of the dark world, and against spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
And because of Christ, we fight, not for victory but from victory.

A couple of days ago, in my ladies bible study, we began to share some of the lies that prey on us. Those accusations that come from some deep seated insecurity... you are such a bother, you talk too much, you are stupid, you have nothing of value to contribute. 

Even as we shared and joked about these statements that we knew deep down are LIES, it was amazing to realize how much power they often have over us.

All of us gals are at an age where we've become pretty comfortable in our own skin. We've made peace with our shapes and our looks and if the mirror doesn't exactly give off a glowing review of how we look today, we shrug and say "Oh well!" and we go out anyway.

But the lies that attack us in our core, the ones that try to shake our confidence that we have anything of value to offer to the world? Those seem to be harder to shake off.

In this Captivating book study, we've looked at the wounds that have broken our hearts and at the ways in which our Heavenly Father wishes to heal those hurts. We've worked on letting Him have access to the broken places so that healing can take place and we are all making positive steps towards deeper healing. Still, the attacks continue and it is why we are commanded in scripture to Stand Firm and keep on standing firm. Don't back off, don't let down your guard.

It's an process. An ongoing one.

But....
For every whispered lie, Jesus whispers, "You are mine. I love you."
For every loud accusation, Jesus reminds me, "I am with you. You are precious to me."
For every damaging echo in  my soul, He counters it with, " Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name, you are mine."

These reminders, these assurances come in a myriad of ways.... through scripture,books, music, through His creation, and quite possibly through a trusted friend.

Sometimes it come in whispers. Sometimes it come in shouts.

But always, if we will look for it and then listen, the truth comes.

Been There, Done That!

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected my tears in your bottle. 

You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56.8

This Captivating study I am doing is powerful. Each week is building upon the week before. As we go we are also building trust within the group, the ability to open up and share from our hearts becoming less threatening. Last week we cracked the box wide open as we each took a turn sharing our stories. Now, granted, just one of us could take a few hours to tell our life story-- and being there are several of us, and our group time doesn't allow for that, a condensed version was told by each participant; the focus being where or how the wounds of our heart came to be.

I know, I know, this just doesn't sound like fun. Do we really need to re-visit those places of injustice, cruelty, abuse? What if there isn't a deep wound from something that extreme? What if it was just a lifetime of small things; being treated with indifference or being let down by someone significant in your life. The sad reality is, it's just not possible in this world we live in to make it into our adulthood without something or someone inflicting pain on our impressionable souls. We all have a wound. Still..... do we really need to do this?

Jesus said that he came to heal the sick and set the captives free*. Regurgitating those stories of hurt isnt so we can have a pity party or wallow in depression, but to prepare us for a deeper healing from God. As we heal, the capacity to let love in becomes greater. Bringing things into the light releases us from the power of the dark. But... yes, sometimes the journey to light is painful.

I know this.
First hand.

Working through my years of trauma -- from the sexual abuse in my younger years, the dysfunctions in my family, to the domestic abuse as a young woman, oh, yes, I have been there. I can say with all conviction that the journey through the pain was worth it. I have come out on the other side, with rejoicing. God did a mighty work in my heart and soul, binding up the broken places, making me whole, perhaps for the very first time. I am, now and forever, so grateful for what He has done.

Being healed, being whole, that is my deepest desire for other women who've been hurt. If sharing my story helps even one woman gain courage, encouragement, hope, then it is so worth revisiting the past.

The beautiful thing I am discovering  is that I can tell my story without falling apart. I still feel emotional as I tell it; I'm not skimming over the top. I'm being authentic. But I'm not reliving it. Neither am I telling it as if it happened to someone else, feeling far removed from it. I'm telling it from the unique perspective of knowing how the story ends, and the ending is filled with joy!

I also know that for all the healing I have experienced, there is always room for more. Because we live in a fallen world, new hurts get inflicted every day. And some of us gals have mighty big backpacks in which we gather up those bad experiences and stow them away. I find my shoulders getting tired and my heart weary and I know it's time to empty my backpack again. I have discovered, happily, that over time my backpack has gotten smaller. It's more like a little fanny pack really. I can't carry as much before I recognize I don't like the feeling that the burden brings. I am quick to release it to God and move on. I like that feeling of freedom!

So, each week as I meet with these ladies and we bare our souls, I understand a little better my place in this group: I have a story to tell that someone else might identify with and not feel so alone. And I have a story of redemption to share that might give someone hope.

Some of us aren't there yet. Some of us are in the midst of our healing, some of us haven't even begun to scrape the surface. Some are still in denial and some are still trapped in it. But for those on the journey, or about to take the first terrifying step, know this: God is with you.



*"The Spirit of the LORD is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim that captives will be released, that the blind will see, that the oppressed will be set free." Luke 4;18 NLT

Facing Your Fears

Last night was Date Night for my sweetie and me. Because the key word in date night is frugal, we were thrilled to find a FREE activity happening at our local library.  A young woman from the Bellingham area was sharing through words and slides, her record breaking experience of hiking the entire Pacific Crest Trail last summer. She set a new record for how quickly this hike has ever been done but that wasn't the reason hearing her talk piqued our interest. I had recently completed the true-life story "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed, another epic adventure of a hiker on the PCT and as I have stated in previous posts, hiking the PCT isn't on my bucket list, but there is a fascination for me with hearing about others who have accomplished this daunting and thrilling task. So going to hear Heather Anderson share about her experience was something both Bruce and I were instantly drawn to.

Heather said one of the goals of her trek over this hike was to face down two fears. Because she was going for a record breaking time she knew she'd have to hike into the dark hours each day and so that was fear #1, hiking at night, and fear # 2; mountain lions/cougars. She encountered not just one, not just two, but SEVERAL mountain lions during her two month hike and she did cover a lot of ground after the sun went down. She conquered both of her fears. She said the night hiking has a beauty all of it's own and as for the lions, she barked and yelled and acted bigger than them and it worked. I can only imagine how accomplished she feels. I know the measure of joy I feel when I face down a challenge and rise above it.

The PCT, if you are not familiar, is the famous trail that stretches from the Mexican border to the Canadian border. Over 2600 miles that forges over mountain ranges, sloughs through dessert, and thrills all the senses as it does so. At least, that's what I gather from reading others accounts. I wouldn't know personally; I've never hiked any of the PCT although my husband has done a couple of short sections in Washington State. As I said, I have no burning desire to hike the PCT, at least not the whole thing! I have no burning desire to even do an overnight hike, preferring my treks into the wilderness to be contained to at the most an all day adventure, free from bugs and extreme temperatures. But I am interested in facing my fears.

It's interesting to note that my ladies small group recently started the book "Captivating" by John and Stasi Eldridge and some topic of discussion has been about fear. Not so much about fears such as being afraid of the dark, or fear of spiders, etc, but more along the lines of. what is that deeply rooted fear that drives me in my sin patterns.

Yes. Sounds like a lot of fun to go digging after doesn't it?

Probably a fear most women have in common is that of not being loved. Accepted.  Not feeling wanted or needed. Of not being found with beauty. The question/comment in the study guide that made me the most uncomfortable this week was: Underneath our sin is a deep fear. What are you most afraid of? 

As I mulled this over all week I finally came up with this realization; I  fear not being accepted. I find that when I am treated with an air of dismissal, when someone doesn't  fully acknowledge me, or my offering is treated with disrespect, I shut down. My wall of defense goes up, I retreat and I withhold myself. It's out of protection to be sure; my battered heart will only take so much. But I realize that in that pattern of protection lies the fear of "this might happen. this is going to happen."  and it sets me up to raise the wall of defense before it is ever needed. As a result, I withhold some of myself before it's ever proven that there is a need. I short change others in our exchanges because I don't trust. I wont risk.

To be sure, these modes of protection can be a good thing. A necessary thing. But it's also very tiring. And what about when the people I don't trust or the situations that I don't want to risk, are the very people and things that God has brought my way for the very purpose of facing those fears and being set free?

Hmm. Food for thought. Something that I am pretty sure will be delved into in depth over the course of the next several weeks. Stay tuned....

Nothing Tastes As Good As...

skinny feels. 

Making those New Year's Resolutions is easy. It's the sticking to it that provides the challenge.


I, like so many others I know, kind of gave up the making of resolutions each January in favor of choosing a word to live by for the year. The word I chose for 2014 is Relationships. It feels good to have one thing to focus on. One thing to be intentional about. One purpose to pursue. In the past, words like, Love, Health, Forgiveness, and Grace, have made my list. But this year it's relationships; this word choice came to me at the recent family reunion we celebrated.

Not two weeks into the new year and I see my word bearing fruit. An estranged relationship that has long brought me considerable heartache, and kept me in prayer, has had a wee break through. It requires much patience and restraint on my part as we baby step through a minefield of old wounds. But each step, be it tiny or not, is a move toward what I pray will one day bring understanding, forgiveness, and eventually, healing.

Not two weeks into the new year and I see my word bearing fruit. Our small group-- LIFE group-- restarted this past week. We've added some new faces to the circle and decided on a new course of action for study and growth. We'll be reading the book of John and reviewing sermon notes (which directly correlates to the the gospel of John) for the next several weeks. Our first night however was spent just getting to know each other a little more. We took turns pulling questions out of a can, and sharing our answers. Each question was intended to spark conversation and learn something about one another. It was fun and informative. We learned that if given a time machine to travel anywhere into the past, I would choose to step into the pages of my favorite novel, Gone With The Wind, right about the time Scarlett O' Hara meets Rhett Butler for the very first time. (My sweet husband informed me that the place I'd chosen to travel was fictional -- like that made it a wrong answer, but I pointed out that time travel machines are fictional too, so there! --- yes, we are modeling good mature behavior to our life group members)

Not two weeks into the new year and I see my word bearing fruit. My ladies group also resumed this week. It's smaller than it was before but also has added a new face. We are going to be using the book Captivating, by John and Staci Eldridge. Just the other day I delved into the study guide that goes with the book and came to a screeching halt before I'd gotten half way down the page. We're going to be dealing with some emotional stuff in the next several weeks. Gulp. I thought that baggage got shipped to Siberia or Timbuktoo many many years ago but judging from the niggle in my gut, it would seem there are some areas that need a little tune up....

Not two weeks into the new year and I see some changes happening. My attitude about some relationships in my life that seem out of balance, some relationships that annoy me to no end, some relationships that I may just have to let go of, some relationships that are proving unhealthy... all cause for prayer. Choices to make, follow through needed, accountability, and always, always, more grace needed.

Not two weeks into the new year and physically speaking I pause for a celebration. I have successfully maintained my weight loss through what is known as the toughest time of the year for dieters. I maintained my exercise schedule despite some really nasty weather. To reward myself for all my excellent behavior, I bought new walking shoes and some waterproof jogging pants. I was also rewarded when I went clothes shopping by finding myself trying on a pair of jeans another size down from what I have been wearing. (I am sure the sales gals thought something was wrong in the dressing room when I whooped out loud, but I don't care! My relationship with stretch denim is special.)

I started this post off by saying nothing tastes as good as skinny feels but truthfully, for me it's nothing tastes as good as healthy feels. And, by golly, it feels good. 

Questions & Answers

Why are you depressed? What are you depressed about?

I get asked these question in it's various forms from time to time by well meaning people and honestly, it irritates me.

Asking any depressed person the WHY or WHAT question is like asking a person with cancer why they have cancer. Or a cold or the flu. There may be things in life--genetics, circumstances, stress--that may help to contribute to these diseases, but really, it's not something we have a whole lot of control over.

That's right. Depression is not a 'mood' I can control. Yes, there are moments in a persons life, when life isn't going quite right and they say they feel depressed-- have the blues. But the kind of depression that puts a person in the painful, fragile place, such as where I am currently, is not just a 'shake it off and put on a happy face, fake it till you make it' type situation. It's not something that will blow over in a little while, on its own. We're talking chemical changes in the brain. Misfiring if you will, and creating all kinds of havoc that can range from low energy to loss of interest in things that normally bring pleasure, from feeling irritable to sad and weepy,  from insomnia to sleeping all the time. It can bring physical pain, like backaches. Oodles and oodles of fun stuff like that.

I was first diagnosed with clinical depression in 1997 but honestly, I think I developed severe depression as a teenager, perhaps even younger than that....

Deep breath here. I'm going to share something I have never shared before on my blog.

When I was 9 years old, I was molested. That traumatic experience shaped me dramatically and has had a profound effect on my entire life. From out of  that sexual abuse, came a young girl who lacked greatly in self esteem, had a warped view of herself and this combined with some other dysfunctional circumstances, came  a rebellious teenager with an invisible "L" on her forehead. (L for loser) It's little wonder that at 16 I ran away from home to be with my boyfriend, leaving home for good at 17 to marry him and then spent the next 15 years of my life being mistreated, manipulated, abused and controlled in every way possible. Looking back I can see how the abuse as a child really set me up for the abuse as an adult. I had no real concept of boundaries and was in no position of power to stop the abuse.

I'd say that was plenty to get depressed about, wouldn't you?

But I was never diagnosed with depression back then. After I finally escaped that first marriage, and was in counseling, I was diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and it was a long road of healing for me. Long road. (but a ton of really great stuff happened as a result which makes me very happy)

So. Back to 1997 and that first official diagnosis. I was prescribed some anti depressants for short term use. I eventually began to feel better and life went on. Along the way I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, which is story we'll save for a another day.

In 2005, I hit the bottom again. Big time. Back to the doctor I went and this time she said a new word. Dysthymia. It's a chronic type of depression in which a person's moods are regularly low, however the symptoms are not as severe as a person with major depression.(There is some research that suggests both the serotonin and the dopamine levels are affected in Dysthymia but that is probably more clinical information than most of us want to know) My doctor figured I developed this as a teen and have been ebbing and flowing with it ever since. Huh, go figure. Expose a person to repeated stresses, and I mean, some major ones. and the chemicals (serotonin and dopamine) in the brain change. They don't change back. So thank God, and I mean, really, Thank GOD, modern science has figured out a way to treat this through the use of medicine. Hey, I may not like having to take a pill every day but my mom doesn't like to shoot up with insulin either. We do it because it is what is needed to restore us to better health. I make it a practise to say a prayer of thanksgiving every morning as I swallow my "happy pill".

Another question I get asked is "Are you feeling better?"

I appreciate the care and concern with which this is asked because I know people mean well but its a hard question to answer, probably because it's difficult to put 'feeling better' into something quantitative. Is the medicine working? Yes. Is it curing me? No. It's leveling me out so I can function but it's not going to take the disorder away. Until I get to Heaven and get my new body, I'm gonna be rolling with this.

About 3 months after I started my antidepressants (back in 2005) I went in for a checkup. The doctor asked me how I was doing. I remember making a movement with my hand to indicate a flat line. No ups. No downs. Just a flat level line. And to that I verbally added "Everything feels... beige." My doctor tilted her head slightly as she processed my answer and smiled. Apparently she thought this was progress.

The medication has a tendency to kind of muffle things. I don't know how else to describe it. I do feel that I am leveling out, no more roller coaster action, but there is a barrier there... like I am rolled in bubble wrap.

Flatlined? Beige? Muffled? Bubble wrapped?

In some ways, I am relieved to know that, in time, this becomes the new normal.

In A Whisper

Pounding rain against the roof and windows at 4am. Driven from my bed from a need to pee, I listen in awe to this summer shower turned reckless. Back under the covers I try to find the perfect position in which to return to slumber for a couple more hours. I am challenged by 3 things. A backache that just won't quit, a snoring husband and a neurotic cat who thinks I want to cuddle now. Correction. Who thinks I should cuddle now.

But as I snuggle deeper under my blankets and smell the freshness this rain brings, my thoughts return to the troublesome issue that's been plaguing me for days now. My job. I have been off work for going into my 3rd week and am not scheduled to return till the 1st of July. A stress fracture on my foot that was then complicated with shin splints from wearing a walking boot, followed by my back going out due to what I can only attribute to a lack of activity, has left me confused about whether to sit or stand. Sitting causes my back to spasm, standing puts pressure on my foot. Laying in my bed seems to me a logical conclusion and until my antidepressants catch up with me, it's where I truly want to be. But, my job. What about my job?

I have been there 6 months and during this time the physical work has never gotten easier. I like what I do and I enjoy the work atmosphere for the most part, however, physically it kicks my butt every single day and I am seriously questioning whether or not I can  continue.... As I roll over and push my cat away from my face, I mentally list all the things that hurt.
Rotator Cuffs. Both of them torn, operated on and then torn again and basically, at this point, stable but always ready to make me miserable should I do one small thing to set them off.
Fibromyalgia. It's been over 10 years since I was diagnosed with this chronic disease and I have learned for the most part how to counteract it and live with it. I keep it under control by watching what I eat, getting equal amount of rest and exercise, and trying to avoid the things that can trigger it. Fibromyalgia also presents a wide range of issues from the achy body to brain fog, to insomnia and more. Loads of fun. Loads.
Stress fracture in the foot. Not getting better. Wondering if there is perhaps also some arthritis in the ankle as it aches when it's fixing to rain. Which in Washington is just about all the time.
Back issues that come and go... such as now. My back goes out more than I do.
And lastly, Depression that can range from debilitating to manageable, but always, the threat of a dark cloud is there.

This is my list and no wonder sleep is elusive. I kick the covers off my feet as I feel a hot flash developing. And then, a whisper. Words flash across my brain, my heart and I think... "God... is that You?"
Because, He does speak to me, and usually, almost always,  in my quiet, unguarded moments.
I listen.
He says "Trust. Try. Talk."

"Trust. Trust in Me. I have it under control. Trust me to lead you in everything. And Trust your husband. I have appointed him the spiritual leader of your household and he's following my lead. It's going to be alright."

"Try. Do you best and leave the rest up to Me. That's all I ask. I am strong where you are weak and I know where your weaknesses are better than you do. All you have to do is try."

"Talk. Communication is key. Talk to Me. Talk to Bruce. Talk to your boss."

I drift back to sleep for maybe another 30 minutes or so. When I have my coffee and my bible reading plan ready for my morning devotions, I discover the title of my read is 'God Speaks to His Friends". Interesting. Not a coincidence, this morning's topic for me.

God speaks. In a whisper. Are you listening?

A Quiet Place

We all need one. A place where we can go to be alone, to think and dream, to plan and pray. I am alone most of the day in my empty nest so you wouldn't think I'd need one spot to identify as my quiet place but I do. There is something about a little corner space that speaks safety and comfort. I love a corner booth in a restaurant, a chair against the wall in the coffee shop and a nook to curl up in in my home.

my quiet place

Our bedroom, when we first got married, sported an office for my husband which I longed to see moved to another area. Bedrooms just should not have an office in them. It's not conducive to things that bedrooms were designed for.  Right? I was therefore, very proactive about creating new office space elsewhere in the house in order that someday, that little corner alcove could be converted to something much more intimate and soothing.

Yes. My quiet space.

private retreat

When the day came, I was ready. I had already scored at the thrift store,  a double recliner loveseat. The fabric was wrong but nothing a pretty slipcover wouldn't cure. I painted the alcove a soothing celery green and added a pretty floral wallpaper border. We already had bookshelves loaded with goodies-- they just needed dusting, organizing and, yes, even some downsizing. To finish the decorating touches I hung garden scenery pictures on the walls at eye level from the couch view. The finished result is very much a feeling of retreat. A private garden. A quiet space.

the antique plate came from my mom, the bottom one my daughter made for me when she was in grade school!

the centerpiece was made by my talented sister

Because our bedroom is on the second floor and the alcove is on the backside of the house, my little corner really feels very much removed from the rest of the house. I can hear what is going on outside and below me but yet I feel safe and securely tucked away, hidden and protected. It's a very good feeling.

recently updated the bedcover and the slipcover!

I am spending a lot of time here these days as I allow my injured foot to heal. It's a cool place to abide on a warm summer's day. I recently updated the slipcover; it feels more like a little rose garden than ever before. It is soothing and with all the fractured feelings floating around inside me right now, it's the perfect antidote.

spending a lot of time here....

books, cell phone, laptop, all at my fingertips, what more do I need? 

now, if I could just replace this carpeting.....

the story of us part 2

Part Two of the story of us.... you can read Part One here


That weekend at Tall Timber in 1994 was magical. I went just hoping for some fun and relaxation, never expecting to come home with such peace and joy in my heart. On Saturday of that weekend everyone was setting out to ski up to White River Falls, about a 3 mile trip. I had not planned to ski but was persuaded to join by the rest. Reluctant, because of my apprehension of falling down and looking foolish, I became even more nervous when I realized everyone had headed up the hill with out me. Everyone except...

Yes, that's right. The shaggy-blond nice guy had hung back and waited for me! Even after I had told him I was allergic to men!! Great. Now I had to worry about making intelligent conversation as well as staying upright! Yet we hadn't gone very far before I realized the conversation was actually flowing pretty easily between us. I had let down my guard and pretty soon we were laughing and having a great time! I fell once and landed pretty hard on my side. It's not easy to get back up when you are on skies and it's not easy to help someone else get up when you are skies either. So pretty much all he could do was offer encouragement as I struggled to my feet. I think the confidence in his voice was what did it. He believed I could and so, I did.

By the time we'd made it to the waterfalls I knew I'd made a friend for life. By the time the weekend was over I knew I was going to marry him. Yes, marry him! It wasn't love at first sight-- it was just a very, very strong inkling that our future was to be together.

Wrapped up in the thawing of my heart towards this very nice man was the healing that God was doing through His Word. That line out of the 23rd Psalm, He restores my soul, was still bouncing around inside me. As I pondered that line I became aware of God really speaking to me. It felt like that scripture verse was reverberating in the deepest of my being. God was speaking to me directly. God was telling me He would restore all my broken places, I just needed to give Him all the pieces.

It was the beginning of a beautiful healing process that has continued all this time. I was falling in love with Jesus in a way that was new to me. I find it fascinating that my relationship with Jesus was developing in a deeper way at the same time that a new relationship was being forged with the man who eventually would become my partner for life.

After we returned home from the weekend some surreptitious planning on my part found us carpooling to church volleyball  together and from there our first date (will save that for another post) took place. We dated for 2 years... and I was ready and waiting for us to take things to the next level!!

So.... TWO years... almost to the day, we were back at Tall Timber for another snow retreat with the church youth group. Another trek to the waterfall on skis was planned for Saturday afternoon. I was hoping this would be the setting for the question I had been longing for for some time... we'd recently moved from the If we get married stage of conversation to the When we get married, and I almost didn't go with the group to ski because I was so afraid it wouldn't happen and I wasn't sure I could gracefully handle the disappointment if he didn't propose...

a friend snapped this photo and then discreetly disappeared... moments before he popped the question...

But I wasn't disappointed. When we at last found ourselves alone, with just the sound of the mighty White River roaring over the rocks behind us, he knelt in the snow before me and produced a sweet little teddy bear from his backpack. When I saw the zipper in the tummy of the bear I knew... but when he pulled the ring out and offered it to me, then the tears of happiness began to flow.

God started something powerful that first weekend in 1994 and in 1996 He brought us another step closer to becoming the couple He intended us to be. Now, here we are 19 years later since that first weekend at camp, 17 years since he asked me to marry him.

it's been a wild, wacky, wonderful adventure together with only more wild wacky wonderful to come. Happy Engage-versary sweetheart!

the story of us

some of my favorite bloggers did some sweet 'how we met' posts last month, for Valentines Day and anniversary celebrations. I'm not copying. I have been thinking about doing a story of us for awhile now and with March 2nd being the 17th anniversary of our engagement... it just seemed like the right time to write this. 

I first met him at Tall Timber Ranch when our churches annual youth/snow retreat was taking place. He was the youth leader at his church and had a rowdy bunch of monkeys under his watchful eye. It was the first time I'd been to Tall Timber and was totally blown away by the raw beauty of this wintry wonderland.

In the interest of full disclosure, I was still married to my first husband and the meeting of this tall shaggy bachelor was barely a blip on my radar. he was just a guy with a bunch of hoodlums to take care of. I thought he seemed like a quiet, kind man and that was that.

Fast forward a few years.... by now I'd gone through an ugly divorce and was slowing trying to rebuild my life as single parent. The annual trek to Tall Timber was a welcome respite and the promise of fun, relaxation and little, if any, responsibilities, sounded too good to pass up. I signed up my then 12 year old  daughter and myself for the retreat. I thought I would play in the snow a little, read some books by the fire and maybe, even let my battered heart soak up some healing in God's country. I had no idea what letting my heart out of it's protective cage was going to lead to...

Bruce tells the funny story of how the day he saw me in the church parking lot, as we loaded up the caravans to head out, he approached me, with a twinkle in his eye and a teasing smile to ask for my permission slip to attend. Funny man. I gave him a snappy come back about my permission slip and said something about having filled out the allergy form. He asked if I was allergic to snow. Now mind you, I'd been hurt so bad in the past that I didn't trust myself, let alone some guy, no matter how nice his smile. My flippant retort was "No, I'm allergic to MEN."

Ouch. Freezer burn from the ice princess, Bruce decided to stay clear of me all weekend.

But something happened once I arrived at the camp. That stunning raw beauty of the place, being unplugged from all stress and responsibilities for a few days, and the very real and very overwhelming presence of the Holy Spirit was so strong, it was impossible for me to continue to hold onto the fortress I'd so carefully constructed around my heart. Within the first 12 hours of being there I felt a release. A thawing. I think I began to understand how heavy and tiring it was to keep that wall in place. When the couple facilitating the weekend led us in a meditation of the 23rd Psalm and we got to the verse "He restores my soul" the words resounded in my heart and soul. And some healing began...

to be continued....

W.R.O.N.G.E.D.

As mentioned in a previous post, I received a wonderful email from a very treasured friend the other day. This was on a heels of a delightful visit with her in which she listened intently with her heart as she always does. I ended up sharing with her about the recent 'sucker punch' I'd experienced. Her love and affirmations were such a balm and I knew God had given her the perfect words to say to me that day. Then she reminded me of a period of hurt she had gone through and what God had given her to help her work through it. She promised to send me a copy of the words she had written down based on that and in addition has given me permission to share that here. She calls it W.R.O.N.G.E.D. which is an acronym for 7 steps of forgiveness that have helped her immensely. I am reading and re-reading through it and letting the words soak in deep as I pray through the steps. I share it, with her encouragement, hoping it also helps another on the road to recovery. 

W.R.O.N.G.E.D.

~Steps to Forgiveness~

W- Willingness to forgive. This is definitely the first step to the forgiveness process. I have to be willing to forgive knowing that Jesus forgave me so much, and who am I to hold onto it. The fact that Jesus says that if we do not forgive men their sins against us, our Father won’t forgive us, but if we do then He will - that is a strong motivator for my willingness to forgive. It is a good place to start.

R- Recognize that they didn't intentionally mean to do damage to me. That they are wounded people who have not the capacity to see the hurt they have caused. They are so caught up in their own pain that they projected it onto me. Recognize that Hurting People Hurt People. I have to get to the point where I can see them through Jesus eyes and say from my heart like He did to His murderers, "Forgive them Father, for they know not what they are doing". I am trying very hard not to take it personally. It is not necessarily about me.

O- Offer up all the pain. I have to take this heart breaking pain and take it to the cross and put it into a giant trunk that sits there. I have to keep coming back over and over to dump my pain in. All the pain of feeling that I have failed as a person. The grief that I am suffering that says I wasted my time, love, energy and life on this one who has so damaged me. When the trunk is full I will put a huge lock on it and bury it there at the foot of the cross. My trunk is getting close to being full.

N- Navigate the emotions. I see myself in this forest of my emotions that I am lost in and Jesus comes along and says, "Walk with me through these emotions, I will tell you where you need to turn and I will take you out of the forest and all the emotions of sadness, confusion, anger, bitterness, disappointment, discouragement, and despair will not trap you anymore. Jesus shows me the way to get out of the forest of emotions.

G- Give grace generously. I have to remember that "she who has been forgiven much, loves much". I want to be the kind of person that can give out of the overflow that has been given to me. Grace is that unmerited favor that none of us deserves, yet we have been given so freely. Give it away.

E. Expect deliverance. I cannot allow the enemy to rob me of any more of this precious life that God has given to me by tormenting me with this lie. I expect that He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world. I expect that his tactics to take me out of the game are his feeble attempt to de-rail what God wants to do through me in this life, I WILL NOT ALLOW THIS ANY LONGER, AND TODAY I EXPECT DELIVERANCE, IN THE NAME OF JESUS!!!

D. Delight in the JOY OF THE LORD!!!  Restore to me the joy of my salvation and renew a right spirit within me. He is my joy and my delight, and in His Presence I find everything I need. When I am not delighting, that means that I have slipped out of the Presence and allowed the enemy to slip in. REMAIN DELIGHTING!!!

my deepest appreciation to my lovely friend C.T. who shared this with me.  

It's blessing me... and I hope it, as I do all my blog posts, blesses those who read it.

A Bruised and Tender Reed

A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.  

Isaiah 42:3

This morning I received in one of my daily email devotionals, a word, for me, about healing. I also received an email from a treasured friend that contains timeless truths about healing and forgiveness. So timely, so apropos for my circumstances right now.

The devotional (which can be read in it's entirety by clicking the link) spoke about the reeds found in the Red Sea and how the children used the reeds as toy flutes. A sweet image comes to my mind as I picture that. I can imagine the children making a joyful noise as they played along the river banks. The piece went on to say how delicate the reeds were and how easy it was to damage one so that using it as a flute was no longer possible. 

How many of us are as tender as a reed? I like to think of myself as fairly tough, resilient, but when I am hurt, it hurts deep. The recent confrontation that I shared here is still a fresh wound. I still feel bruised and jagged from the encounter. It has helped to share with a few trusted friends the more intimate details of the wrong and know that I am surrounded by praying, caring individuals who are bringing a balm to my broken soul. And I know God is so very near; why else would the timing be so perfect for healing words to come? 

In the midst of pain and sorrow, with Christ at our sides, we can all experience joy. Submitting the hurts to him makes all the difference. To quote the writer of today's devotional piece: If God can make a melody from the hollow reeds of a swamp, imagine what he can do with the willing spirit of a man or woman?

Today I am going to the memorial service for the mother of one of my friends from high school. I was able to reconnect with this friend at my high school reunion last summer and I am blessed to be able to go today and offer whatever support I can. I imagine she is feeling as delicate as a reed from the Red Sea as well. I pray God will use me today. By submitting my willing spirit to Him, I believe He can. 

A Big Sigh

and a glass of wine...

I'm sipping and watching the sunset out my back door, after another glorious day of summer weather in the month everyone thinks of as the beginning of fall. Ha, ha-- Mother Nature fools us once again! I love September! We often get the best weather during this month and I am fully aware that the official first day of Autumn is on Saturday. THIS IS WHY I LOVE THIS MONTH!

It's Wednesday which means it was my Mom-day. That always evokes a BIG SIGH out of me once I get home. Today we ran a few errands --both her's and mine. Her's included a trip to the bank and an appointment at her hair salon. Oh, and of course, Zoom Zoom Espresso. Decaf, Soy, Sugar Free Vanilla. All the baristas know her on sight and have her drink memorized. That's nice. She get's a 16 oz every other day. She only drinks half of it and saves the other half for the next afternoon. I kid you not. Hey, we're talking the Queen of Frugal.

Another big sigh squeaked out of me as I posted the final chapter of Broken Places on This Robyn's Nest this evening. 46 chapters plus an epilogue. It took a lot out of me when I first wrote this story. The rewrite has been kinder, but still I tend to read/write the accounts of abuse (fictionalized but based on fact none-the-less) in a zone. Thank God, really, for the healing He has done in my life!! And continues to do. Sharing this story has been powerful and I pray for more power to be released as women stumble across that blog and read about the freedom Christ alone can give!

It's been a heavy week; losing our friend Michael and grieving along with his wife and children. The memorial will be this Saturday. I believe it will be a time of celebration despite the heavy hearts. Michael is no longer battling cancer-- he is healed and free!! I imagine we will be doing a lot of crying along with rejoicing when we gather this weekend. Michael was a talented songwriter/singer and I have about worn out his CD this week playing it over and over again.

On the job front, I believe I jumped through the final hoop as the Doctor signed off on my health and faxed the appropriate paperwork to the Occupational Health Division of the USPS. Whoo Hoo!! I might actually get a start date?!! It's only been since the end of June that I began this process. I'm impressed with myself, LOL.

So, deep sighs,  from feeling accomplished, feeling tired and feeling sorrow mixed with joy.

A Simple Country Road

I've been spending a considerable amount of time over at my other blog these last several days. I made an interesting discovery... I think when I wrote "Broken Places" I did it on auto-pilot... sort of a self defense mechanism. Now, doing the edits and letting the story be viewed in a public setting, I am awash with emotions. Letting myself really feel what Gracie, my main character feels. Revisiting those places of hurt. I keep saying that Broken Places is NOT my bio but it certainly comes from a place of authenticity. There is a little bit of me in each of those chapters. And while I have come SO far in the healing and being made whole, it does take a lot out of a person to go traipsing back into the past. No wonder I have been so exhausted and fighting flu-like symptoms.

Yet it's a story worth telling because of the redemption factor. If just one person reads this and finds the courage to leave an abusive situation... if just one person reads this and finds healing and hope... if just one person reads this and meets Jesus..... than it is all worth it.

The other day I took a pleasant stroll down a quiet country road. It was a gloriously sunny day with fresh breezes and not a soul in sight. the lighting was fantastic and the walk was refreshing.

In some ways the walk was much like the rewrite I am doing on the novel. 

Walking a road I've been down before but never by foot. Seeing things I've seen before but from a very different angle. Having time to stop and really look. Seeing God's hand in all that is around me... His perfect creation, even as our sinful nature corrupts it. It was a simple walk but I came back refreshed.

Time with my God does that. 

and I got to see a moo-cow to boot!!