FOUND:
Recently I've noticed some things that have been long forgotten. Things like knuckles showing on my hand and wrist bones. Things like ankle bones and tendons. Cheekbones and collarbones. Shoulders and elbows and hip bones.
Welcome back guys, I've missed you!
LOST:
Went to visit some family and my great-niece runs up to greet me and after the hug she pats my stomach and says "Where is your baby? You had your baby?"
That....was.... awesome!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made...
As a friend of mine says "more fearfully than wonderfully!"
And I have to agree. This past month I haven't written much on here. To tell the truth there's not been much to say that you haven't already heard or read.
Because I'm sure that eventually you will get tired of reading: I lost a pound. I didn't lose weight for ___ long. My clothes don't fit. I ate that. I can't eat this. I lost another pound.
So, I think I will hold off until the weight loss surgery muse strikes. Which may be never. I wonder what her name is? We could have fun with that.
For now I will give you this. God, our God. Yahweh Himself. Has one heck of a sense of humor.
I'm probably not informing any of my adoring fans of anything that they didn't already have a clue about.
You know He's so crazy because well, look at giraffes and zebras together on the same playing field. Think about kangaroos and toucans. Odd aren't they? Then there's everyone's trump card when arguing about Mr. Stand Up Comedian in the Sky, the platypus. Don't tell me they were left over parts. He don't need no stinkin' leftovers. Nope, I think Jehovah Laughter was feeling a tad bit silly one morning during the creation process and threw that one in as His own inside joke with the angels.
And then there's us. Enough said right?
And he loves showing off His humorous side. I remember once when I was going through a time where I could not drag my butt out of bed in order to spend time in the word and in prayer. I would hit the snooze until 10 minutes after I should be in the shower. And then whined about it.
I was feeling the effects of not talking with Him and listening to Him. So I begged Him one night to not let me touch that stupid snooze button and make me get out of bed. You know what He did?
Well, He happily obliged of course. In His way. The next morning the alarm went off and Mrs. Stick to Your Guns rolled over to slap that clock silly and I kid you not I rolled right out of that bed and on to the floor.
I laid there for a bit till it hit me that He'd answered that prayer quite nicely. And then I laughed. Pointed my finger at Him and said, You got me didn't you!?!? He's so crazy!
Then there's my recent struggle with the scale. I'm losing, I'm losing - it isn't that kind of struggle. It's the obsessive kind. The kind where I weigh myself every day. And not only that I cannot wait to weigh every day. And every day when the scale moves all of a pound I am thrilled to no end. And every day when the scale stays put, I am woeful beyond sense. Which is crazy.
All this in spite of the fact that I know I should not weigh every day. As women our weight can fluctuate several pounds from day to day. Especially well, you know when.
So what am I doing hopping myself up on that happy-o-meter every day? I. Don't. Know. I thought I had gotten past the part where I found my joy in numbers. But yeah. There I am. Every day. And here I am confessing.
I've told other friends as well. They've chastened me properly. I go home tail between my legs swearing I am going to wait THREE WHOLE DAYS before I step on the sardonic little thing again.
Riiiiiiight.
So, God in His wonderful wisdom has broken my scale.
Broken it. Has to be what has happened because folks this is a brand new state of the art digital scale. Brand new.
What happens when I step on it? Oh, lets see...a range of as much as 30 pounds difference each and every time I get on to weigh.
And this is only for me.
No one else. The danged thing works JUST FINE.
It's. Just. Me. I get on and I weigh 245. Get off. No way that's right. I mean I weigh somewhere around 220. Get on and I weigh 212. Get off. That would be nice but no. Get on 228. Get off. Get on 236. Cuss words. Seriously?
"Jesse?! Will you come weigh yourself?!?!?" Gets on. Number is correct give or take a pound.
"Again!" I tell him. He gets on, it's the same. Exactly the same.
I get on 200. Waaaaahhhhh....
Then it hits me. And while it wasn't so funny at first, I can now see the amusement in it. He has fixed my little problem. He knows I don't like any other scale. I won't know the progress if I weigh at work or at the doctors.
He knows I've been finding joy in the wrong places. Looking for happiness in the wrong direction. Seeking consolation and comfort where there is none. He knows I have no strength apart from Him. And He knows just how to take care of everything. Including my scale.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has made me beautiful. He has made my heart to sing. He has brought me from the wilderness. He. Him. Not the numbers. Not my weight loss. Him.
And that stinking scale - for sure - didn't do any of this.
And that makes me laugh out loud. That was a good one God. You got me on that one!
And I have to agree. This past month I haven't written much on here. To tell the truth there's not been much to say that you haven't already heard or read.
Because I'm sure that eventually you will get tired of reading: I lost a pound. I didn't lose weight for ___ long. My clothes don't fit. I ate that. I can't eat this. I lost another pound.
So, I think I will hold off until the weight loss surgery muse strikes. Which may be never. I wonder what her name is? We could have fun with that.
For now I will give you this. God, our God. Yahweh Himself. Has one heck of a sense of humor.
I'm probably not informing any of my adoring fans of anything that they didn't already have a clue about.
You know He's so crazy because well, look at giraffes and zebras together on the same playing field. Think about kangaroos and toucans. Odd aren't they? Then there's everyone's trump card when arguing about Mr. Stand Up Comedian in the Sky, the platypus. Don't tell me they were left over parts. He don't need no stinkin' leftovers. Nope, I think Jehovah Laughter was feeling a tad bit silly one morning during the creation process and threw that one in as His own inside joke with the angels.
And then there's us. Enough said right?
And he loves showing off His humorous side. I remember once when I was going through a time where I could not drag my butt out of bed in order to spend time in the word and in prayer. I would hit the snooze until 10 minutes after I should be in the shower. And then whined about it.
I was feeling the effects of not talking with Him and listening to Him. So I begged Him one night to not let me touch that stupid snooze button and make me get out of bed. You know what He did?
Well, He happily obliged of course. In His way. The next morning the alarm went off and Mrs. Stick to Your Guns rolled over to slap that clock silly and I kid you not I rolled right out of that bed and on to the floor.
I laid there for a bit till it hit me that He'd answered that prayer quite nicely. And then I laughed. Pointed my finger at Him and said, You got me didn't you!?!? He's so crazy!
Then there's my recent struggle with the scale. I'm losing, I'm losing - it isn't that kind of struggle. It's the obsessive kind. The kind where I weigh myself every day. And not only that I cannot wait to weigh every day. And every day when the scale moves all of a pound I am thrilled to no end. And every day when the scale stays put, I am woeful beyond sense. Which is crazy.
All this in spite of the fact that I know I should not weigh every day. As women our weight can fluctuate several pounds from day to day. Especially well, you know when.
So what am I doing hopping myself up on that happy-o-meter every day? I. Don't. Know. I thought I had gotten past the part where I found my joy in numbers. But yeah. There I am. Every day. And here I am confessing.
I've told other friends as well. They've chastened me properly. I go home tail between my legs swearing I am going to wait THREE WHOLE DAYS before I step on the sardonic little thing again.
Riiiiiiight.
So, God in His wonderful wisdom has broken my scale.
Broken it. Has to be what has happened because folks this is a brand new state of the art digital scale. Brand new.
What happens when I step on it? Oh, lets see...a range of as much as 30 pounds difference each and every time I get on to weigh.
And this is only for me.
No one else. The danged thing works JUST FINE.
It's. Just. Me. I get on and I weigh 245. Get off. No way that's right. I mean I weigh somewhere around 220. Get on and I weigh 212. Get off. That would be nice but no. Get on 228. Get off. Get on 236. Cuss words. Seriously?
"Jesse?! Will you come weigh yourself?!?!?" Gets on. Number is correct give or take a pound.
"Again!" I tell him. He gets on, it's the same. Exactly the same.
I get on 200. Waaaaahhhhh....
Then it hits me. And while it wasn't so funny at first, I can now see the amusement in it. He has fixed my little problem. He knows I don't like any other scale. I won't know the progress if I weigh at work or at the doctors.
He knows I've been finding joy in the wrong places. Looking for happiness in the wrong direction. Seeking consolation and comfort where there is none. He knows I have no strength apart from Him. And He knows just how to take care of everything. Including my scale.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has made me beautiful. He has made my heart to sing. He has brought me from the wilderness. He. Him. Not the numbers. Not my weight loss. Him.
And that stinking scale - for sure - didn't do any of this.
And that makes me laugh out loud. That was a good one God. You got me on that one!
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