A DECADE OF DECISIONS

Today marks 12 years since my baby girl was taken from me. Twelve years of tears and tough decisions - of healing and hoping and praying and pressing pause.

The emotions of that night have never left me. I remember the shock, the fear - and the sting when I stopped at the church campgeound for prayers and comfort. I remember the buried needle on the dashboard, my mother-in-law wringing her hands, and the sound of my husband's voice. And I cry anew.

I remember little of the days that followed, yet all the rawness is fresh. Like a smoky sky, the haze of depression hung low and heavy. I remember the tears of her siblings, the feeling of helplesness, the inability to sleep, and the waves of nausea.

This memory surfaces even as I mourn a friend's failed adoption this week. This was the one - the first time in 12 years I was able to see the beauty in adoption again. This was the adoption restoring my hope that Heaven has a Master plan, and all things are redeemed.

I received very personal promises from God in prayer for this adoption. And while I have a head knowledge that His Word is sure, my shattered heart again begs the question: Why, God?! And what about Your promises?

If there is anything I have learned in the last 12 years, it is that God is close to the broken-hearted. You can't ask questions of someone if you're not speaking to them. So the more questions I have, the more time I spend talking to God. While it may not change the situation, prayer always changes me.

So I bring all my broken pieces, all my shattered hopes, and all my regrets to the Master. He is the weaver; I'm just a dreamer. And I dream of the day where mothers hold babies close to their hearts while being held close to the Heavenly Father.

I continue to live in hope.  And if you're reading this, my singing cuckoo bird, I pray that you are hearing His whispers of hope, sensing His healing hands, and know you are loved.

I'll Tell You What

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." It's a line that has been overused  by marketing companies and health enthiusiasts everywhere. But is there any truth in it? Well, I think that depends on which side of skinny one finds him/herself.

As most of you are aware, I am on the waiting list for weight loss surgery. I am simultaneously beside myself with excitement and frustrated with the length of the wait. Having already taken beginner steps toward what will be my new lifestyle, I have lost 12 lbs. It's not overwhelming, but it is certainly better than my previous situation of gaining 3 to 5 lbs/month! Given the difficulty and the side effects of achieving this has assured me that it will indeed be a successful surgery! I am not prepared to waste all of the time and energy invested by myself or the (extensive) medical team. I am fully comfident at that time, nothing will taste as good as skinny feels.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck in the waiting zone. It does not matter how little I eat or how much I exercise. My blood sugars and cholesterol have surprised the doctors. Still, hormones will do what hormones do, and I will gain as much from a plate of kale as I will from a small portion of cheesecake. Which would you choose? As long as my weight continues to feel like a losing battle, I'll tell you what tastes as good as skinny feels:

French fries. Crinkle-cut, deep fried and smothered in gravy. Home-cut, pan fried, and mixed with onions. Yes, please.

Ice cream. Drizzled with maple syrup or chocolate sauce. Just a little bit.

Cookies'n'Cream chocolate. In the middle of the worst office day ever, it just makes everything better.

Popcorn. Covered in butter and salt, of course.

Potato chips. With dip. Enough said.

Pepsi. Oh wait - not any more! I have actually beat this one - hooray for small successes!

I think what I'm trying to say is that, for many of us, skinny/healthy is a journey. Unless you know what took someone to their island of struggle, please don't judge them. There is a reason a weight loss team includes a surgeon, several nurses, a nutritionist and a psychiatrist. We are all doing the best we can, and sometimes we need help. I will get to the point where that leopard-print dress feels better than cake tastes; but until I get there, I'll tell you what tastes better than guilt: cheese. Cheeseburgers, cheesecake, broccoli and cheese....