postcards

It was the summer of 2000. I was on my way to YoungLife's week long camp called Malibu. Though I had heard many stories regarding what I would anticipate during the week, the resounding phrase was, "It will be the best week of your life." Lo and behold, 11 years and a marriage later, it's still been ''the best week of my life'' (sorry, Bobby).

Let me explain. This week away wasn't just an experience. It was life changing! I grew closer with a few gals from my school, I was loved on by Cheryl, Molly and Tria (our leaders), I experienced adrenaline pumping adventures like never before and most importantly, I found Jesus. I don't mean "I found Jesus" as though he was hiding in the bushes somewhere...but what I mean is, I was stripped away from all that was distracting and planted right in the middle of one of the most gorgeous places on this planet. Here, I not only saw the beauty that is God all around me, but I felt it from my leaders, friends, and even the camp work crew and staff who didn't even know me but worked tirelessly so that I would "have the best week of my life". "Who is this God that is such awesomeness?" I was amazed, encouraged, and ultimately completely enveloped in and by the love that was shown to me that I could no longer deny this God. I wanted that relationship that I was being told about. I wanted that 'something more' that would fulfill the longings and desires of my heart. I wanted to know God.

So I left camp on what's called a 'camp high'. I felt on top of the world even though I had been warned that the real world may come crashing back at me...and it did. But not before I had the opportunity to solidify relationships with my leaders and the friends who came along and who ultimately would serve as my mentors and who took great pride in discipleship.

On the bus ride home, I remember filling out a post card to an anonymous donor. Those who gave money to make "the best week of my life" possible. I don't remember what I wrote but I'm sure it said something to the effect of finding Jesus and 'thank you' for 'the best week of my life'.

I went on to lead high schoolers through the same experience, adrenaline pumping craziness and post card writing for the next 10 years. It was during this time that my faith grew the most. Contrary to popular belief, teens are awesome and no matter how punkish they can be, there's so much to them and so much that they go through that I feel they've blessed me more than I ever could them during our time together. I've watched some from middle school all the way through college and on to marriage and building a God centered family. I've watched some follow their calling and dive right into the missions field and I've watched some follow in our footsteps and become YL leaders themselves. What joy!

Then last year, I decided to take an unknown amount of time off from leading. The biggest reason is my marriage. I didn't know how I was going to work full time and lead YL and still have enough quality time left in my day for my new husband. Initially, I thought I'd only take one year off, but now, with September right around the corner, I don't feel God telling me that YL is where I need to put my energy right now. That said, I made sure I wasn't too far from my fellow Younglifers by opting to give part of my monthly tithe to them and to participate in as many functions and fundraisers as I can. This summer, like every summer, donors received a post card. I was sent a postcard. It was from a girl I know from Medical Lake who had ''the best week of her life'' at Malibu. Because of my giving to the very organization that changed my life years ago, I have been given the best gift...this post card. It's almost as though I was given the post card I had written so long ago.


I went from camper to leader to financial giver and I'm stoked to be able to say that I've been involved with YL in such ways that I've written, enabled others to write, and ultimately received  that meaningful post card.

What went around, came around.
Thank You, God.

dreaming dreams

"We do not want to merely “see” beauty–though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words–to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

~C.S. Lewis

Bobby and I got the chance to spend this last weekend out at the Stitt's cabin for Tyler's birthday. One morning, while everyone else was still in deep slumber, I found myself wide awake and ready to get the day going. Unfortunately it was only 6:30am and I knew I had a good 2 hours before anyone else would be alive so I had to find something to occupy my brain. I chose to dream up some dreams. 

The Portland Marathon is a little less than 2 months away. Completing this race/run has been the one solid goal I've had since last winter and here I am, less than 60 days from the finish! This made me think about more goals and things I'd like to accomplish/see/experience in the upcoming months. I dreamed about Italy and how Bobby and I have always talked about going there someday. Because I have the opportunity to witness friends with their little ones, I know it would be best to get a trip like this out of the way before little ones of our own come along. Could this be done within the next 6-8 months? How awesome would that be?! Then my mind covered the idea of buying our first home. We've discussed a bit of a timeline and right now, we're hoping to find our home within the next year, possibly late spring-early summer of 2012. Ah...all those ideas from Etsy and Pinterest, Better Homes and Gardens and Martha Stewarts' Living magazines may finally be put to good use! Veggie garden...art room/office...a dog first and hopefully soon thereafter a little quarter asian of our own! ...oh to live the dream!

 Only about 20 minutes worth of dreaming passed when Bobby stirred...I promptly started attacking him with little pokes and "Hey, wakey wakey!" and, "I'm bored...WAKE UP!". He did...but we both just laid there. A few minutes of silence went by and still in my dreamy state I asked, "What are you thinking about?" hoping for an equally dreamy response.

"Stargate." he replies.

Sigh.... "You're such a nerd."

Later that evening I had an advisory board meeting at the Porch. Pastor Dave spoke of Haiti and his dreams for the people of the Porch to come together to support the small town of Godin either financially, prayerfully, physically or all three! If you've asked me lately what a prayer request of mine would be, it would have to do with Haiti. For the last few months, since Justin, pastor of Kaleo Church in Otis Orchards came to our church to speak about Haiti, I've been struck with the thought of being a hands-on person. I've always wanted to 'do a mission trip' but I've always been leery about big organizations and what seemed to me to be a temporary fix, or, band-aid for an area in need. The difference that I see with Dave and Justin and those involved in Godin is that the work being done is to aid in the building of a self-sufficient economy. There are many details to how this is being done and it seems to me that it's more of a "teach a man to fish" kind of thing rather than, "give a man a fish"...which I believe is the better way to go about things. Since 2002, Dave and Justin and a few of their buddies have built actual relationships with the people of Godin and I feel God has put it on my heart to be a part of that somehow. 

So as I laid down to bed that night, I revisited all the dreams I dreamed that day and it hit me that I could have a potentially life changing year coming up and I am super excited! For so long I've watched my friends go on trips, missions, excursions...build homes, businesses and families...and I'm excited and hopeful that our next year will prove fruitful in every way possible.

been away too long

I completed a 5 mile run last night. period. I say it like this because this is one of only a few runs thus far that did not result in some sort of funny/interesting story. Although I do have to say that I chose a beautiful time of the evening to head out (7pm) and an equally beautiful route through Riverfront Park on up to INDABA where the hubs was pulling a late nighter. I also got the chance to run into Rachel, however, and two very flamboyant men with the cutest little Corgy dog that "loves women" they say.

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So here's the deal:
I've found myself crazy-busy (but not too crazy to run my miles...or most of them anyway) and at the same time out of ideas and motivation to write on this here blog...it wasn't until Nikki told me she missed my blogs that I thought, "Hey-that means they're being read! Woot!" So here I am, with a little help from my friends.

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I have a confession...wait, it's more like a frustration...from someone (me) who is at her wits end. If you read what I have to say in the next few sentences and you for some reason decide NOT to agree with me then I'd say you are part of the problem and not part of my solution and you are NOT being helpful to me in any way, shape or form especially if you try to tell me that I'm my worst critic. okay? okay. Deep breath, here goes...
However you may feel comfortable saying it, I am fat, chubby, "Big boned"(my mom's nice way of saying it), healthy (in a size 16 kind of way), Obese (according to any BMI or Weight Watchers scale) and waaaay over it. Now is not the time for you to try to make me feel better about myself because I have a great self esteem and I know that my weight doesn't define me and it surely doesn't slow me down...I just know what I know and I know how to fix it but if I'm surrounded by folks who tell me that I look no different now than I did 2 years ago, I get annoyed...because they're lying.

Here's a bit of history.
I've been 'chubby' all my life. Not chubby enough to be consistently teased...but when people needed to find a reason to be mean to me, that was the most common route taken. My mom always eased the pain by saying "you're not fat, just big boned" and she'd proceed to pile on the mac n' cheese. But in high school, I thinned out enough to be 'ok' to be seen in a short cheerleading uniform and I was praised for not having 'cottage cheese' legs. Then, a few years out of high school I landed a great desk job (same one I have now) which means I sit. Alot. And I gain.

3 1/2 years ago, I joined Weight Watchers and in the course of 6 months and with a lot of help from some super fit friends who comitted to workout at the gym with me during the wee hours of the morning at least 4 times a week, I lost 30 lbs. This was also combined with friends (like Bubbs) who jumped at the chance to support me by helping me make good choices because it also benefitted her and her 'get fit' goals. I felt awesome, I looked great in my own eyes (which not many women will ever be able to say about themselves) and I was healthy in a size 10-12 kind of way. I had no real desire to go any further with my weight loss but maybe toning up a bit and squeeze into a size 8 would have been nice.

But then life happened.

Many elements contributed to the eventual regaining of said 30 lbs and that's where I have been since about November of 2010. Things like stress, changing gyms which took me away from my fit friends because I found a gym closer and cheaper, dropping weight watchers because I needed to pinch pennies and create time in my days for my wedding, dropping out of TriFusion because I could no longer afford that kind of active lifestyle and it was taking a toll on my ego, the addition of birth control and it's tendencies to pour on extra poundage, the addition of heart medication that makes it hard to do any kind of physically strenuous activity for too long, giving myself the 'ok' to eat the entire meal when we go out or to go back for seconds (a big 'no-no' in weight watchers), just being married...oh and much, much more.

At the beginning of this year, I decided I needed to have a goal: to train for and complete the Portland Marathon on October 9th. The goal was not weight loss focused but weight loss was to be the icing on the cake. The problem? I'm now 2 months away from the race and logging 30+ miles per week and not one single pound has been lost. Frustrating? Oh hell yes. We're talking approximately 1 1/2 hours a day, at least 4 days a week of exercise and NOTHING. It's disheartening, really, and I'm at a loss.

Just recently, I had to break down and buy new, larger scrub pants for work because my old ones from 2 years ago no longer fit. I know I do not fit into my jeans anymore and all I wear are loose, cotton clothes because I'm tired of feeling confined and like I'm bulging at the seams. And I'm not being 'too hard' on myself...I'm being real with myself. I owe it to me to figure out what to do next. I'm worth the work and I'm sad that I let myself get back to where I was when I first started WW. But it doesn't mean I can't get back there. It took me 6 months last time and it was a lot of hard work and hard decisions; alot of hard conversations and reality checks. I know I can do it again so what is stopping me?
Every time I see a picture of myself I cringe...the latest? I did you a favor an posted it for you below!

It's a bit difficult to see, but if you check out my gut flopping around under and out of my shirt, you'd understand the negative attitude. I am a bit embarrassed but not enough to not post this...because it is yet another reality check.

So it is about time to start a new goal:
'BACK TO BUFF ME'. One may wonder what that means? Well, I've done yet another favor and posted 2 pictures of what I was like at the peak of my fitness/weightloss before the steady downfall.

 Oh yes, look at those guns! Aaaand I'm pretty proud that my tummy, though still 'thick', is flat!

This suit? I don't even want to try to get into it...I KNOW it doesn't fit anymore! But look! No bulging skin!







Now for the plan:

Well, that's not totally true. I have ideas...just which route should I go? More thoughts to come...