I have some 'fessin' up to do. Remember that one post I wrote back in January? (Maybe you don't remember me. Hello, my name is Elizabeth and I used to write.) I made some non-resolutions for 2011, one of which involved me losing forty pounds by the end of August. Well, August has come and gone, and I've been a little preoccupied in the meantime, so here's my long overdue update.
I did not meet my goal.
I hate to say that, because now it's going to draw your attention to my body next time you see me, and quite frankly, I prefer to pretend that no one ever notices my physical flaws. (Kind of like putting my hands over my eyes and playing the if-I-can't-see-you-then-you-can't-see-me game.) But part of the reason I announced my plan to lose weight in the first place was to have additional accountability. If I tell you I'm going to do something, then I'd darn well better get it done, even if you never say another word about it.
The eight month weight loss journey was quite amazing in itself, primarily because of the Spirit working in my heart through Lysa Terkheurst's book Made to Crave. It's an incredible book, and I highly recommend it to any woman who struggles with identity and self-worth. Anyway, by the beginning of August I had lost twenty-five pounds. Not that close to my goal of forty, but certainly nothing to be ashamed of.
Unfortunately for my bathroom scale, I let life get the best of me and haven't been able to keep up with my new eating lifestyle. As a result, I've gained back some of that twenty-five pounds. However, I can't tell you how much exactly, because (fortunately for my bathroom scale) I've been too afraid to step on to assess the damage. My pants still fit, so I know I'm still ahead of where I was at the start of the year.
The dust around me is settling just a bit, and I'm hopeful that I can soon pick up where I left off. The challenging part is examining my motives behind losing weight. I want to do it for purely selfish and cosmetic reasons. God wants me to do it because I am to honor Him through obedience and the decisions I make, including the choice between eating a cookie or an apple with my lunch.
Don't hear me wrong - I'm not saying God has pre-ordained every single bite I'm supposed to eat or that I'm only allowed carrot sticks and water (ew). But I do believe that the quiet decisions I make regarding my food - even cookies vs apples - matters in how He is glorified in my body, which He created for His desires and purposes. He gave me this body to look after and tend to while I'm on this earth, just like He has given me a job to work at with all my heart (Col 3:23). It's my job to take care of it to the best of my abilities so that I can offer it back to Him as my living sacrifice (Rom 12:1). I want to give Him my best.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
From One Chapter to the Next
For the past several months, life has had a way of sprinting ahead and leaving me in a perpetual state of trying to catch up, all the while huffing and puffing. (Not hard to do considering how out of shape I am lately.) Now here I am with a brief window of opportunity to catch up just a bit while I spend the weekend out of town by myself. I'm attending a continuing education course, so while my time away won't be restful, I am still away. For just a few hours I can sit in this hotel room and have nothing to distract me from relaxing - no dishes to wash, no clothes to fold, no leftover paperwork to finish up, no boxes to pack. I can sit...and be.
When I start to think about all the changes I've had in the past three months, it makes my head spin. Sometimes I look around me and can barely remember how I got here. I mean, I saw it all coming, and I prepared for it along the way...but I still can't always get my mind around it.
Three years and almost three months ago I moved to South Dakota. Home. Three years and one month later, I moved back to Kansas. Home.
I have two homes, one just as real and true as the other. That has been a blessing as well as a challenge. Two homes would be much easier if they were in the same place. Nine hours is a very complicating distance.
The magnitude of what I left behind two months ago doesn't escape me. I had many good things, and I miss them. Even though God used my time there to break and rebuild me, He didn't leave me unblessed. I miss those blessings.
I miss my chatting with my girls at work. I miss my church family. I miss leading worship. I miss living in a region that grows only small spiders. I miss the town. I miss the South Dakota license plates on my car. I miss my best friend.
I miss my home.
But mingled in with that is the overwhelming joy of new blessings. I have a new job that I enjoy, complete with new coworkers to chat with. I am closer to my family and old friends. I have a beautiful home. I found a new church family that has welcomed me enthusiastically. I am becoming part of a wonderful new praise team. I am building new relationships.
I am home.
I have never felt more alive than I have these past two months. I don't know for sure what God is doing, but I know He has changed me. I can see what I was, and I can see what He has made me. He has restored me, transformed me, and He is pouring so much on me now that I don't know how to receive it.
When I start to think about all the changes I've had in the past three months, it makes my head spin. Sometimes I look around me and can barely remember how I got here. I mean, I saw it all coming, and I prepared for it along the way...but I still can't always get my mind around it.
Three years and almost three months ago I moved to South Dakota. Home. Three years and one month later, I moved back to Kansas. Home.
I have two homes, one just as real and true as the other. That has been a blessing as well as a challenge. Two homes would be much easier if they were in the same place. Nine hours is a very complicating distance.
The magnitude of what I left behind two months ago doesn't escape me. I had many good things, and I miss them. Even though God used my time there to break and rebuild me, He didn't leave me unblessed. I miss those blessings.
I miss my chatting with my girls at work. I miss my church family. I miss leading worship. I miss living in a region that grows only small spiders. I miss the town. I miss the South Dakota license plates on my car. I miss my best friend.
I miss my home.
But mingled in with that is the overwhelming joy of new blessings. I have a new job that I enjoy, complete with new coworkers to chat with. I am closer to my family and old friends. I have a beautiful home. I found a new church family that has welcomed me enthusiastically. I am becoming part of a wonderful new praise team. I am building new relationships.
I am home.
I have never felt more alive than I have these past two months. I don't know for sure what God is doing, but I know He has changed me. I can see what I was, and I can see what He has made me. He has restored me, transformed me, and He is pouring so much on me now that I don't know how to receive it.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Hell Is Real
Life does a good job of distracting me, of keeping my mind and heart apart from each other. But this past week, in those moments of stillness when my mind has had a chance to wander a bit, it goes to a place of horror and torment. The toes of my imagination have dangled in waters not even the demons want to swim in.
Hell.
At the LifeLight music festival last weekend, I had the privilege of hearing Bill Wiese speak about his trip to Hell and back. It was awful. But I believe every word he shared. Heaven and Hell are part of the foundation of my faith, as is Christ, who can choose to reveal whatever He wants to whomever He chooses. I have no doubt this man visited Hell in a vision, and I have no doubt what he describes is just as physical as the chair I am sitting on. Bill's experience has made the unseen world more tangible to me, and because of this, my heart trembles at the thought of any human being spending eternity in Hell.
Hell is hot, beyond temperatures any living being can survive. But in Hell, the heat doesn't kill you. Because you're already dead.
In Hell your body is weak, exponentially weaker than what the worst bout of flu does to you. You can hardly move your body, because on earth it is God who provides your strength (Ex 15:2). You can't turn to God for strength because it is too late. You are already dead.
Hell is full of gruesome demons who hate you and physically beat and shred your body. At the start of creation, God created man in His image. Demons hate God. Because you're made in the image of God, they by default hate you. But their beatings will never kill you. Because you're already dead.
In Hell you don't bleed, even though demons rip chunks of flesh from your body. There is no blood in Hell, because "the life of a creature is in the blood" (Lev 17:11). You will never bleed to death because you have no blood to bleed. You're already dead.
In Hell your body is consumed by fire. You feel every ounce of pain. But like the burning bush (Ex 3:2), your flesh never burns. There is no water to quench the fire, because there is no water in Hell. You never burn to death. Because you're already dead.
In Hell you can't breathe, even though your lungs scream for oxygen. You gasp for air like an asthmatic, except the asthmatic can still (though laboriously) overpower the inflammation in his lungs and take life-giving breaths. In Hell your lungs never inflate because on earth you breathe the "breath of life" (Gen 2:7); in Hell there is no life. You are already dead.
In Hell your body is consumed with maggots. They crawl and wriggle and chew and gnaw, and they never stop (Isa 66:24) because your flesh will never be fully consumed. For your flesh to be fully consumed, you would have to reach a point of death. But it is impossible to die. You are already dead.
Hell is a place of fear, worse than darkest nightmare you've ever experienced. There is no comfort, because only God gives comfort (Isa 49:13). You are consumed with a terror that never ends. You will never wake up from it. You can't. You are already dead.
In Hell you are devoid of all hope, and this is the worst torment of all. Hell is just as eternal as Heaven. Once you reach Hell, it is too late. Every torment you experience is made more painful with the knowledge that there is no end in sight, no relief, no break, no second chance...no hope.
You see, Hell is a place completely devoid of God and His attributes. We don't realize the extent to which He infiltrates our daily earthly lives, evil-filled as they are. He gives us water, breath, light, strength, protection, healing, comfort, peace, hope. He is the Sustainer of all life. He holds back evil so that it never completely overpowers.
In Hell, no part of God is present. Demons reign and unleash unchecked evil and terror. Torment is constant and permanent. Life is completely and utterly absent...and you exist in this state for all eternity, just as real as everything is for you right now.
I deserve this Hell. So do you. Every single one of us deserves to spend eternity in this place, because every single one of us has sinned against a perfectly holy God. Sin cannot exist in the presence of God. But by His incredible grace, through Jesus, He offered us a way to become pure and perfect before Him. Those of us who believe He did this and receive His gift of grace also receive the gift of Heaven, which is as wonderful as Hell is horrible.
I'm going to Heaven. I want you to go with me.
It scares me to think you might not.
Hell.
At the LifeLight music festival last weekend, I had the privilege of hearing Bill Wiese speak about his trip to Hell and back. It was awful. But I believe every word he shared. Heaven and Hell are part of the foundation of my faith, as is Christ, who can choose to reveal whatever He wants to whomever He chooses. I have no doubt this man visited Hell in a vision, and I have no doubt what he describes is just as physical as the chair I am sitting on. Bill's experience has made the unseen world more tangible to me, and because of this, my heart trembles at the thought of any human being spending eternity in Hell.
Hell is hot, beyond temperatures any living being can survive. But in Hell, the heat doesn't kill you. Because you're already dead.
In Hell your body is weak, exponentially weaker than what the worst bout of flu does to you. You can hardly move your body, because on earth it is God who provides your strength (Ex 15:2). You can't turn to God for strength because it is too late. You are already dead.
Hell is full of gruesome demons who hate you and physically beat and shred your body. At the start of creation, God created man in His image. Demons hate God. Because you're made in the image of God, they by default hate you. But their beatings will never kill you. Because you're already dead.
In Hell you don't bleed, even though demons rip chunks of flesh from your body. There is no blood in Hell, because "the life of a creature is in the blood" (Lev 17:11). You will never bleed to death because you have no blood to bleed. You're already dead.
In Hell your body is consumed by fire. You feel every ounce of pain. But like the burning bush (Ex 3:2), your flesh never burns. There is no water to quench the fire, because there is no water in Hell. You never burn to death. Because you're already dead.
In Hell you can't breathe, even though your lungs scream for oxygen. You gasp for air like an asthmatic, except the asthmatic can still (though laboriously) overpower the inflammation in his lungs and take life-giving breaths. In Hell your lungs never inflate because on earth you breathe the "breath of life" (Gen 2:7); in Hell there is no life. You are already dead.
In Hell your body is consumed with maggots. They crawl and wriggle and chew and gnaw, and they never stop (Isa 66:24) because your flesh will never be fully consumed. For your flesh to be fully consumed, you would have to reach a point of death. But it is impossible to die. You are already dead.
Hell is a place of fear, worse than darkest nightmare you've ever experienced. There is no comfort, because only God gives comfort (Isa 49:13). You are consumed with a terror that never ends. You will never wake up from it. You can't. You are already dead.
In Hell you are devoid of all hope, and this is the worst torment of all. Hell is just as eternal as Heaven. Once you reach Hell, it is too late. Every torment you experience is made more painful with the knowledge that there is no end in sight, no relief, no break, no second chance...no hope.
You see, Hell is a place completely devoid of God and His attributes. We don't realize the extent to which He infiltrates our daily earthly lives, evil-filled as they are. He gives us water, breath, light, strength, protection, healing, comfort, peace, hope. He is the Sustainer of all life. He holds back evil so that it never completely overpowers.
In Hell, no part of God is present. Demons reign and unleash unchecked evil and terror. Torment is constant and permanent. Life is completely and utterly absent...and you exist in this state for all eternity, just as real as everything is for you right now.
I deserve this Hell. So do you. Every single one of us deserves to spend eternity in this place, because every single one of us has sinned against a perfectly holy God. Sin cannot exist in the presence of God. But by His incredible grace, through Jesus, He offered us a way to become pure and perfect before Him. Those of us who believe He did this and receive His gift of grace also receive the gift of Heaven, which is as wonderful as Hell is horrible.
I'm going to Heaven. I want you to go with me.
It scares me to think you might not.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Latest Eye Update
Last week I returned to the retina specialist for my follow-up appointment. My mom went with me, and our waiting room experience was quite different from the first time. At the first visit, I arrived early, got in early, and got out quickly. This time, we arrived early and spend a solid two and a half hours inside their massive clinic in exchange for about twenty minutes of service.
But as a health care professional myself, I can't complain about making patients wait to be seen.
The doctor numbed my eyes and probed the back sides of my eyeballs with his probey stick, then delivered some very good news. The holes in my retinas haven't changed at all in the past three months, which means they're not getting worse. Now that he knows they're not getting worse, he is very adamant in his recommendation to just let them be. I will continue to follow up with him every six months, and that will be all. Laser surgery is always a possibility to prevent further tearing, but he says that as long as the holes aren't changing, he doesn't feel the risks of surgery are worth the benefits.
This is very good news as I can carry on with life as usual. I don't have to make any decisions about having or not having surgery, which (for those who have witnessed my decision-making skills) is a very huge relief.
God is good.
But as a health care professional myself, I can't complain about making patients wait to be seen.
The doctor numbed my eyes and probed the back sides of my eyeballs with his probey stick, then delivered some very good news. The holes in my retinas haven't changed at all in the past three months, which means they're not getting worse. Now that he knows they're not getting worse, he is very adamant in his recommendation to just let them be. I will continue to follow up with him every six months, and that will be all. Laser surgery is always a possibility to prevent further tearing, but he says that as long as the holes aren't changing, he doesn't feel the risks of surgery are worth the benefits.
This is very good news as I can carry on with life as usual. I don't have to make any decisions about having or not having surgery, which (for those who have witnessed my decision-making skills) is a very huge relief.
God is good.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
This Is the Reason for the Hope That I Have
My job, if I take the time to notice, continually reminds me of the fragility of life.
In the past week or so, two patients have stayed close to the surface of my memory. The first, a middle-aged man who died suddenly and unexpectedly only hours after I first met him.
The second, a young girl not yet old enough to go to school, body weak and head bald from intense chemotherapy to kill off a fast-growing brain tumor. Doctors don't put the odds of survival in her favor.
I took a coworker with me to this little girl's house, primarily because her home life is such that I did not feel safe going on my own. After our visit, my coworker commented that seeing things like that "really makes you question your faith."
The conversation didn't go any farther than that, but I thought to myself how the opposite is true for me. Seeing and experiencing hopeless and unfair and tough situations drives me closer to God, deeper in my faith. To me, going through the trials of life without God seems worse than the trials themselves.
This day, Resurrection Sunday, is my most favorite day of the year. There is a joy that fills my heart to overflowing when I stand up and sing praises to my risen King. I get excited to be with my fellow believers and share this joy with them, because this faith we have is what binds us together as family.
Today, after a weekend of remembering the brutal death of Jesus on the cross, we celebrate His victory when He came back to life and conquered death once and for all.
You see, this is why I live. When I see little girls with brain cancer and feel the pain that comes with life, this is what keeps me moving forward. This is the reason I am able to get out of bed every morning, because truthfully, if not for this hope in Christ, I would find no purpose in life.
Because of what Jesus did for me and for you, I have an undying hope in His promises to come. I know that when I die my life isn't over, but rather just beginning. This whole life is just a single page in the book of eternity. There is more to come, something greater, and that is the purpose for which I was created.
In the past week or so, two patients have stayed close to the surface of my memory. The first, a middle-aged man who died suddenly and unexpectedly only hours after I first met him.
The second, a young girl not yet old enough to go to school, body weak and head bald from intense chemotherapy to kill off a fast-growing brain tumor. Doctors don't put the odds of survival in her favor.
I took a coworker with me to this little girl's house, primarily because her home life is such that I did not feel safe going on my own. After our visit, my coworker commented that seeing things like that "really makes you question your faith."
The conversation didn't go any farther than that, but I thought to myself how the opposite is true for me. Seeing and experiencing hopeless and unfair and tough situations drives me closer to God, deeper in my faith. To me, going through the trials of life without God seems worse than the trials themselves.
This day, Resurrection Sunday, is my most favorite day of the year. There is a joy that fills my heart to overflowing when I stand up and sing praises to my risen King. I get excited to be with my fellow believers and share this joy with them, because this faith we have is what binds us together as family.
Today, after a weekend of remembering the brutal death of Jesus on the cross, we celebrate His victory when He came back to life and conquered death once and for all.
You see, this is why I live. When I see little girls with brain cancer and feel the pain that comes with life, this is what keeps me moving forward. This is the reason I am able to get out of bed every morning, because truthfully, if not for this hope in Christ, I would find no purpose in life.
Because of what Jesus did for me and for you, I have an undying hope in His promises to come. I know that when I die my life isn't over, but rather just beginning. This whole life is just a single page in the book of eternity. There is more to come, something greater, and that is the purpose for which I was created.
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