A Word From the Wilderness: Part 2

Click on the links to see the Intro or Part 1 in this series.

The eyes of all look to you,
And you give them their food at the proper time.
~David, Psalm 145:15

As I noted in an earlier post, during the week of my retreat, I used the book Wilderness Time by Emilie Griffin as a guide. At the suggestion of the author, I created some very basic guidelines for the retreat such as keeping a tidy space, observing regular meal times, and spending time out of doors. These were not rigid rules so much as they were parameters intended to create some sense of routine and continuity, allowing God to work inside that space in whatever way He saw fit; if I saw God leading in a direction outside this framework, I was to follow.

One of the ways I kept to the suggested regularity throughout the retreat was to begin each morning by meditating on a specific Psalm (more about this in an upcoming post). After meditating on and praying through the Psalm, I would go for a walk and speak with God. The first day, I chose one of my favorite wild trails to walk on, just a short distance from my apartment. I prayed for eyes to see and ears to hear whatever it was God wanted me to take in.

It was cool and damp that morning as I went for my walk, and was in fact, still lightly sprinkling. I geared up with my favorite warm jacket, my gloves, and my camera to record what I saw. I felt my senses heighten and sharpen, eager to pay particular attention to whatever lay in my path.

As I walked the two or three blocks to the trailhead, a couple of things in particular caught my eye. In front of one of my neighbor’s homes there was a tire swing hanging off the stout branch of a tree in the front yard. I smiled as I recollected how many times I had pumped my legs back and forth as hard as I could on just such a swing, laughing with the exhilaration that came with rushing to a height, hastening back down, feeling the air rush past and cool my skin. It reminded me of being a child; feeling freedom and laughter, being unburdened by worries.

A few houses down on the same side, I saw a beautiful front yard that seemed to have no design to the planting. It was wild and untamed. There were red and peach- colored tulips, broad-bladed grasses, dandelions, ivies, a blackberry bush, and tree branches both blooming and bare. If there had been a design, it was overtaken by the wild growth, yet I thought it lovelier than many thoughtfully designed and landscaped yards I had seen.

After I reached the trailhead and walked down that familiar and muddy path, I heard the spring song of the birds overhead. The cool, damp air may have pierced my own exposed skin, but it did not diminish the birdsong. For my entire walk, I was accompanied by a symphony of birds overhead. They flitted and darted from branch to branch, their snapping wings and joyful song lightening my heart and my step.

I returned from my walk to my apartment damp and muddy myself, knowing that these things had significance if I would see it. The tire swing pointed toward being childlike, the flowers and wild growth a reminder to seek beauty in unexpected places, and the birds … I could not immediately identify the significance. After pouring a cup of hot herbal tea and changing out of my muddy clothing, I reopened Wilderness Time to a guided meditation the author herself uses when leading a retreat. This is a portion of what I read:

“Give us the grace to be children in your presence. Teach us to be lilies who don’t have to work at being beautiful. Teach us to be unselfconscious like the birds who depend on you and give glory to you with every rush of wings and every shriek of praise.” (Griffin, p. 87)

Reading this paragraph was a revelation; I knew immediately that each of the things to which my attention was drawn had been drawn there by God Himself. The tire swing, telling me to be childlike. The wild and beautiful growth, reminding me that I don’t need to work hard to be beautiful in the eyes of Him who made me. The birdsong reminding me that the birds don’t toil and worry, but enjoy the provision of our heavenly Father, depending on Him utterly.

The images He provided me with spoke clearly: You are my child; be that child. You are beautiful in my sight; you need not strain and strive to be so. I will provide for your every need; depend on me.

These revelations shaped and changed the week ahead in ways I could not yet see. The Holy Spirit stirred inside me, and I did not need to question God’s immediate presence in this week. And this was only the beginning of the blessings of the retreat days set aside.

NEXT:
Part 3: Four Stops Through the Psalms

Movin' On Up ...

I couldn't leave you all out there to pack and move alone, could I?

That's right, we got the house! I found out on Friday morning, but this is the first chance I've had to share the great news. God was definitely in this -- never has there been such a smooth and easy searching and application process.

We will be moving in as of July 1. Anyone have some extra boxes I could use?

A New Normal

This piece is dedicated to the always-lovely Rebecca, who so honestly shared with her readers about her own pants-dilemma.

In the dressing room today, wearing pants that fit

If you’ve ever watched the popular TLC show “What Not to Wear”, I’m sure you’ve heard Clinton and Stacy advise their fashion-challenged objects of prey to dress the bodies they have -- not the bodies they once had, neither yet the bodies they wish they had, but the ones they have now.

This is, more often than not, most unwelcome news to the show’s participants. Many of them get looks on their faces that would make you think that someone just shot the family dog.

I’ve been in a similar state of denial about this and for quite the opposite reason that most of the show’s victims assert so vociferously. One woman will swear up and down that she will one day fit into the jeans she wore in high school, and another adamantly claim that those three-sizes-too-small pants are just the incentive she needs to lose the extra baby weight. My protest has been, I will gain some weight back!

About three weeks off the modified elimination diet and I tell you –- I gained about four pounds back at a week and a half, which I promptly lost again by the end of the following week (meaning I am back at my 30-lb weight loss number, but holding steady). I won’t be adding anything else back in to my diet, so I have to assume that this is my new normal.

Consequently, I am yet another fashion victim (and I sincerely hope there is no secret footage of me that is on its way to TLC). As I stood in front of my closet this morning, I selected a pair of casual olive-colored slacks (freshly washed and dried), a favorite of mine. Once upon a time, these pants fit perfectly; they gently hugged my hips without pinching and I was able to fill out the derriere quite beautifully, if I don’t say so myself. Today it was hard to tell if I had one at all.

I learned early on this morning that I risked finding these pants in a puddle around my ankles every time I stood up from my desk. Just for kicks and giggles, I tried a little experiment in the restroom stall: I could pull them up and down quite easily while fully buttoned and zipped. This is sick! There is room for at least one more ample bottom in there and when I turned to the side, not only did I think What is Nicole Ritchie doing in my apartment?, I could see that my once-favorite pair of pants looked like the “fat pants” people wear in the before pictures of ads for diet shakes and fat-burning pills.

I know, I know. Most women would chide me in tones dripping with sarcasm, Gee what an awful problem to have!

But this means I had to go shopping, which I truly loathe. Yes, it is true. I am a woman who does not enjoy shopping. I enjoy having new clothes, I just don’t like the process of acquiring them.

So I braved the mall after work today. I picked up two pairs of rather cute capris in a size smaller than what I was wearing at the time (I am deliberately withholding that number). They fit perfectly, they did not pinch or create the dreaded illusion of “back fat”. When I turned around in the dressing room, I could tell that I had a rear-end in there. How glorious! And better yet, they weren’t falling off. I would not risk accidentally mooning anyone in these pants.

And while I was there, why not pick up a couple of the rather inexpensive brightly-colored tank tops and that cute t-shirt on clearance? But of course!

All joking aside, I am learning something valuable even in this. This is my new normal. I am healthy and well again; I have energy that I haven’t known since I was a child. I may need to acquire a new wardrobe over time, but the way I look at it, it is not so much about the weight loss or the size of the pants I purchased today. My body has shed its illness and its junk; it has rid itself of disease and taken on good health.

And no matter what the number on the tag says, that is what I celebrate.

A Time to Move

It seems nearly everyone I know in the blogosphere has recently moved or is about to. I am no exception!

My sister and I have been discussing for many months the prospect of moving in together. I love my little studio apartment and heartily admit that I love living alone. However, I also love saving money when I can and have recently felt pulled toward living with others in a shared space again.

We've poured over ads in print and online over the last six months or so, searching for the perfect place to live. Nothing really grabbed us or seemed like the right fit, so we did not move on anything. We agreed it would be nice to find a responsible third roommate so we could rent a house or something larger than an apartment, but neither one of us could think of anyone who could fit the bill.

Along comes my friend Michelle, recently moved back to town after a long absence. She too was looking for a place to live. We met Sunday night and were both thinking she might be the missing piece to the three-roommate arrangement my sister and I desired. She spoke to my thought before I did, and we started our search immediately.

We all started praying over it, and within hours, Kaari found a listing that caught our collective attention. It is a fairly new construction in a quiet neighborhood just a mile and a half from where I work. It is a three bedroom, three and one-quarter bathroom home. Considering the size (2300 sq ft) the rent is very modest; we are half-inclined to think the amount they're asking is a farce. So we drove by on Monday; the neighborhood can be best described as charming and idyllic.


The current residents were good enough to give us a tour yesterday. We were all amazed at the space and availability of storage (I am coming from a 400 sq ft studio apartment with no storage, save for the limited space under my bed) and all agreed it was a perfect fit for the three of us. We would have a garage and a backyard. There was a porch on the main level of the house. I would have a dishwasher, washer/dryer, and garbage disposal again!

Our applications are filled out and ready to go; we also found out from the rental office no one else is waiting for this beautiful property. It will be available in July, which gives me plenty of time to give proper notice at my current apartment and get my things ready to be moved.

This is Kaari's first apartment-hunting venture, and I've assured her that we are deeply blessed if this is indeed the home God has for us. No home-hunting venture has ever been so smooth for me! I'm sure many of you can relate.

The path seems to have been smoothed out and made straight before us; it is and has been my prayer that if this is the house God has for us, that we would be good stewards of this incredible space and use it to bless others in return.

I will keep you posted ...

Siblinghood

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

- Ecclesiastes 4:12

The Siblings, ca. 1985

As I’ve come into adulthood (or something vaguely resembling adulthood), the appreciation I have for my brother and sister has increased. When many other sets of siblings we know have simply let the cords of connection dissolve, ours are indelibly wound together. We had fun as kids growing up and experienced the usual bumps, bruises, and minor disagreements which, at the time, threatened to tilt the earth off its axis. As adults, we are inseparable and still finding pleasure in each other’s company.

Peder has always been all boy, playing soccer, riding dirt bikes, playing basketball, breaking bones, getting dirty, and providing the unexpected comic relief. When we were little, he would chase my sister and me around the house as we ran from him, shrieking. Once when my mom stopped him in his tracks to ask him why he chased his sisters like that, he replied with a devilish glint in his eye, “Because I like to hear them scream!”

I was the artsy/creative one of the bunch, fabricating stories from lofty and fantastic places in my imagination. I would draw and color the days away quite contentedly. At the age of three, I began to teach myself to read, cementing my bibliophilic tendencies early on. I was also unafraid to speak my mind; my mom has often quipped, “We never knew what was going to come out of your mouth – and we still don’t!”. I played piano and even performed some improvised “concerts” for captive audiences of my friends, family, or any stranger caught in the same room.

Kaari (rhymes with “sorry”) was a bossy toddler and quite the prim mistress of the house. In one of my earliest memories of her at approximately the age of two, she is standing at the top of the stairs, one hand placed disapprovingly on her hip, the index finger of her other hand shaking disapproval, censuring my brother and I for what was no doubt some grave misbehavior on our parts. She never was a girly girl, preferring soccer, basketball, and bigwheel races to playing with dolls or holding tea parties with fake toast and empty plastic teacups. We didn’t seem to understand one another, but managed at the very least to put up with one another.

As each of us has grown older, our bond is tighter than ever. Thanks to sharply discounted mobile phone plans from my job that include unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes, we spend hours on the phone each month sharing every detail of our day, cracking jokes, laughing at ourselves, or sifting through our own thoughts and dilemmas. Sometimes we just need to hear each other’s voices.

Peder is a fantastic listener and allows me to verbally process and overanalyze whatever I bring to him. I’m fortunate to have him living in the same apartment building as myself. He has retained his terrific sense of humor (though he no longer uses it to make my sister and me scream) and can be counted on to come to my aid for heavy lifting, minor plumbing crises, or to drive me safely through the snow and ice. His playful, childlike heart reminds me not to take things too seriously. He is the most generous and selfless man I know, often sacrificing his own plans for a friend (or sibling) in need. I’ve often said that I’m convinced there is not a woman on the planet good enough for him; I hope someday soon I will be proven wrong.

Kaari has also spent her fair share of hours listening to me process and analyze my innermost thoughts. She is meticulous and has a true flare for organization, whether it be for a room (as evidenced by my own closet and bathroom), for important documents, or her finances. We share a deep love for the outdoors and often dream of trips we could take together (Greece and New Zealand top the list). She and I both have a deep love for music; what one discovers a new singer-songwriter or band, the other is sure to love it too. We’ve spent enough time together to accurately complete each other’s thoughts and often find we were thinking the same thing at the same time, leading us to believe that despite possessing separate bodies, we do in fact share a brain.

I can’t think of anything in particular that fostered this profound friendship among us. Like any parents, ours loved each other and us as best they could; they fostered our individual gifts and talents, allowing us each to figure out who we are. There was no magic formula, no secret parenting ingredient. It was not and is not all poetry: I recall many times when we must have driven our parents nuts with our poking and complaints of line-crossing or channel-changing. And I guarantee you there are still times where one of us is bound to chafe against another’s last nerve.

But at the end of the day, we are the first to stand in the gap for each other. It is not lost on us how remarkable this really is. Whether it’s to vent about a bad day, opine about the price of gas, or share exciting news, each is there for the other without hesitation and without question.

We have a childhood in common, but it is something so much more than that now. By the grace of God alone, it is something that surpasses explanation. We will sometimes pause to be amazed and let it sink in how remarkable it is, but are all hard-pressed to account for how it came to be that way. As a writer, I would love to find the language to distill for you precisely what that “something more” is. I humbly concede that language fails me utterly. Simply said, we like each other –- a lot. We are each other’s closest friends and nearest allies.

Uproot one, and the others will follow, for our roots are tangled tight and deep within the earth from which we grow. They reach down deeply, intertwining to hold each other up –- to keep each other stable, sane, and laughing.

My birthday dinner, January 2007

Modified Elimination Diet: Week 4

Reincorporation
After the three weeks of the diet had come to a close, I was looking forward to adding certain foods back in. After my visit with the naturopath, I knew adding gluten back into the diet would be tantamount to asking for – at a minimum – a few days of discomfort. I’m not even going to try it!

The first food group I chose to add back into my diet was dairy. I’ve never had any noticeable aversion to dairy, so I didn’t suspect that I would have any problems. I made the reincorporation simple: I had grilled bread with tomato, basil, balsamic vinegar, and fresh mozzarella. I had a simple green salad over which I sprinkled freshly grated parmesan. It was delicious. Thank God for cheese!

I love dairy – cheese, in particular – but my digestive system does not. It protested quite plainly, in fact. I will spare my audience the gory details, but suffice it to say that the response fell far short of enjoyable. For at least three days. Ugh.

No dairy: check. No gluten: check.

As much as I miss certain foods, feeling healthy, energetic, and physically whole is worth more to me than giving up cheese and bread.

In fact, since this diet has had such far-reaching health benefits, I’ve decided to stick to it. I have terrific amounts of energy and feel fantastic, especially when not indulging in the goodies that (I will admit) still tempt me. With the exception of citrus fruit and strawberries, not to mention the occasional glass of wine, I see no reason to reintroduce other foods that contribute to less than a state of great health. These things that used to taste so good and that I eagerly anticipated enjoying again are some of the very things that make my body feel less than excellent. And why would I want that? Even (gasp!) my staple hot beverage, the decaf soy latte, no longer tastes as exceptional as that first one after what seemed a long month without. I’ve noticed that the small amount of evaporated cane juice in the soy milks most coffee shops use (about 8 g per cup) makes a difference. I’m certainly not saying I’ll never have one again, but that it will be an exception (one or two per month) rather than a regular occurrence (one to three per week).

I have held an avid interest in diet and nutrition for sometime, but this diet showed me something else on a broader scale: a lot of the food out there (especially so-called “convenience” food) has very little food in it. Having been a voracious food label reader for the past month, I was struck by how many of my seemingly “healthy” choices included a list of ingredients as long as or longer than my arm, half of which I could not pronounce. On the diet, I had to select entirely from whole foods, or foods with a short list of ingredients that included only real, whole food items (like my rice cakes: puffed rice, sea salt). And in spite of “giving up” so many things, I ate better on that diet than I ever had before in my life.

What was I missing again?

Elimination Diet Dinner of the Week
If you've been keeping up on the diet saga, you know a couple things: I've started adding a few things back, and I'm gradually moving toward a vegetarian diet. I will be eating animal protein 1-2 times a week until the current supply in my freezer is depleted, and then (pardon the pun) go cold turkey. Especially since I’m working toward coming out of a profound case of anemia, I think this transition period will be very important.

With that in mind, here is this week's recipe, a southwest-inspired chicken dish.



Ingredients:
Chicken breast
Red pepper, chopped
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
Button mushrooms, sliced
4-5 cloves garlic, finely chopped
Cilantro
Sea Salt
Large tomato, chopped
Avocado, diced
Lime juice
Olive oil

In a skillet, heat up olive oil and sauté red pepper, mushrooms, onions, and garlic. Cook until onions are translucent and remove from pan.

Add diced chicken breast. When cooked, add pepper mixture back to pan with chicken and lower heat.

Squeeze lime juice and add sea salt to taste.

In a separate bowl, mix diced tomato, avocado, cilantro, and a few good squeezes of lime juice and stir. Place chicken mixture in dish and top with the tomato/avocado relish!

Modifications...

• For those of you who like your dishes a bit spicier, add a chili or two.
• I'm definitely going to try this with tofu in place of chicken!

In Other Health News
I had the biopsy of the abnormal cells in my uterus on Friday. My doctor said there was only a very small patch of abnormal cells; mostly what he saw was inflammation of the lining. He did not say so explicitly, but I got the impression that this was good news (but only the biopsy results will reveal precisely what state these cells are in). The results are expected by Wednesday and at that point, we will have a better idea of whether this is something that requires treatment, or something that is likely to clear on its own.

The Joy of Working Out
I know some of you will think I’m a glutton for punishment (particularly Christin, who I recall saying something like "I will only run if my life is in danger”), but over the last 6-7 years, I have really come to love working out. I take Bodypump three days a week which is an hour-long strength/endurance class. In Bodypump, you work all the major muscle groups of the body over the course of an hour set to upbeat music that changes quarterly. I love it, and it has changed my body for the better.

I also love cardio training. Before my stomach rebelled against me and I started feeling sluggish, it was routine for me to have 45-minute or 1 hour cardio sessions. I loved it! As someone who has heart disease on both sides of the family, I have been attentive to focused cardiovascular training as part of my regimen. I also find pleasure in pushing and challenging my body, and find some happiness in meeting and setting new challenges.

After this whole ordeal with the stomach started, I began to feel my reservoirs of energy diminish completely. I was falling asleep before 7 p.m. most nights and felt like my limbs were lined with excessive amounts of lead. The most I could do some days was walk on the treadmill and even in that, was dragging my feet. I did what I could, but I’d be lying if I said I was not saddened by the loss of energy and the consequent lack of ability to participate in the classes and activities I enjoyed.

Since I started the diet and more recently when Dr. Wessels gave me the supplements for iron, thyroid, and the adrenal glands, I feel tremendous gains in my energy levels. For the first time in nearly a year, I was able to complete four heart-pumping cardio workouts last week. I started out at thirty minutes a session and by the end of the week, was completing forty-five minute sessions of cardio, praising God the whole time.

In spite of my more recent health news, I feel like my body has been restored to me. I feel like myself again, and the gains in energy are not in any way taken for granted. I believe that as my body becomes healthy and strong again, that this will support healing and restoration in other areas. That is my heart’s prayer and my highest hope.

So where will I be in the afternoons after work these days? Pumping iron or sweating profusely on the elliptical machine (or treadmill, bike, or stepmill), smiling and thanking God for every heartbeat and every bead of sweat.

Tagged: Fours

I've been tagged! The lovely Christianne has tagged me for a game of fours ...

Four jobs I've had: food server, day camp counselor, resident assistant, accounting coordinator (not even I am quite sure what that means!)

Four places I have lived: a house, a duplex, an apartment, a teeny studio apartment (which I love!)

Four movies I watch over and over: Little Miss Sunshine, Cold Comfort Farm, Kinky Boots, Amelie

Four favorite foods: Have you been keeping up on my blog? I can’t eat food anymore!

(Just kidding)

I like: Thai cuisine (a NW staple), seafood (again, requisite for living in this region of the country), veggies, and I must say lattes!

Four favorite TV shows: I literally haven’t sat down & watched TV in ages, but from the times I have: Gilmore Girls, Gray's Anatomy … um, literally can’t think of anymore!

Four places I'd rather be right now: Thailand, South Africa, France, or getting a massage

Everyone I can think of except Kaari has been tagged. So I leave an open invitation to post your own!

Reunited

Hello, latte. It's been a long time. I've missed you.

Decaf Soy Latte @ The Woods ... this is what heaven tastes like!

*** On a more serious note, I encourage you to check out my sister's post about a powerful film we both viewed this past weekend. Click here to head on over ...