And I'm going there...

I’ve done a lot of work on myself. No, not plastic surgery or anything like that. I’ve done heart work, brain work, behavior work, and I’m pretty proud of myself. Through counseling, reading, reflection, prayer and conversation, my goal is to live this life in a way that is “aware.” Certainly, I am not at the end of any growth around this. Our lives are journeys. With God’s help, we each have the opportunity to always be growing, learning and becoming our better selves, our self that God intended.

The next step of growth has been thrust before me recently. Although, it had been gnawing at me for quite some time. This new truth came at the burning fire located just below my breast bone. Thanks to Zegrid the burning has gone away, but the truth remains. I have a terrible relationship with food.

My first indication around this was at the table with kindergartners during a brief stint at substitute teaching before I started seminary. I sat with the kids because I had no idea you didn’t have to do so. One of the kids blurted out: “Look how fast the teacher eats!” Now, this could have been influenced by the fact that I had just quit waiting tables. When you are waiting, you have to eat when you can and that usually means fast. The reality is that I still eat quickly. It’s been nearly 10 years since I waited tables. Seems to me I don’t have a really good reason for it anymore.

My first struggle with weight was in middle school. I contracted what the doctors finally decided was Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. As a result, there was a week-long hospital stay followed by over a year of high doses of prednisone and other steroids. Steroids are notorious for their side effects. Mine were significantly worsened near-sightedness, weight gain, and curly hair. The last one is a special Kelli-only side effect. The other two are common. Weight gain doesn’t exactly explain what steroids do. They make you hungry all the time. Then, the food doesn’t really satisfy you. You are stuffed but the sensor in your brain doesn’t truly know it. You retain water and your face gets puffy. All this in middle school. MIDDLE SCHOOL.

Ever since then, I’ve hated my weight, whatever it was. When I weighed 120, I wanted to be 110. When I weighed 150, I wanted to be 130. And, last year when I reached my scale-number breaking point at 180, I went on a diet. I downloaded one of those apps where you count calories, adding your workouts to offset what you’ve eaten. It did really well, too. I lost 15 pounds and kept it off until some stress caused me to fall off the diet wagon and gain it back.

What I have managed to admit to myself this week is that even though I hate that number on the scale and the number on the tag of my pants, my problem is not so much a body image/weight issue as it is a food issue. When I look in the mirror, I feel confident. Thanks to an amazing husband, I know I am loved just as I am. God loves me and can do good things through me at any weight. When I look at a plate, I see problem solving (that isn’t real). I see food that makes me feel good because it tastes good. I see guilt at the bottom when the food is gone, especially when I’ve over eaten. For some reason I eat like someone is going to take it away from me. I have a dog who does that as a result of abuse. Through inference, maybe there’s something deeper I need to figure out.

My taking this deeper is this year’s Lenten journey. I’ve done the give up soda, give up alcohol, add a devotional thing. But, for the first time, this Lent is really going deeper for me and for my relationship with God. I use food for emotional reasons. When I’m stressed I over eat. When I’m happy I over eat. For some reasons my brain has been wired over time to seek calm or celebrate with a full plate that becomes a full belly.

In order to move forward on this journey, I’ve discovered MINDFUL EATING. It’s almost like learning to eat all over again. Here a few of my lessons learned and suggestions to follow. (All are from www.tcme.org.)

First: Ask yourself, “What do I want this food to do?" before eating.

Second: Approach eating something as if you’ve never had it before.

Third: Eat with all 5 senses - smell, see, hear, touch (what does it feel like in your mouth), and of course taste.

Here we go, friends. Let’s see where this journey of mindful eating takes me through Lent. Maybe I’ll lose some weight, but that’s not the goal. The goal is to love food for the right reasons, and get the obstacles out of the way to being the better self that God has in store for me and each of us.

More than meets the eye or hand

My friend Amy and I are taking a pottery class together. For me, it’s a chance to get back into something I did in college. For her, it’s a mostly new adventure. Last night I had a super-preacher-dork moment realizing the lessons God was giving in the midst of working with clay. Here are a couple:

The clay has to start out where it is supposed to be. This is called centering. With a great deal of physical effort the potter makes sure the clay is centered on the wheel so that the creation process can begin. In the same way, we need to start our days (jobs/relationships/life) with intentional centering. We need to start anything with as much effort and purpose as we can muster. This is no easy feat. With all the distractions life can throw in our way, putting our full selves into anything can seem almost impossible. However, it is only when we are fully present and centered at what we are doing the formation of something special can begin.

How do we begin, then? It is different for each of us. My mornings start out with time with our dogs. In events where I feel like lots of energy will be used, my heart lifts up a prayer for guidance and calm. On days where difficulty is a given, I wear a bold lipstick. Yeah, it may seem silly, but it works for me. We each are responsible for finding those ways to put our hearts where they are supposed to be so that we can be who God needs us to be in the world. Now, there are those days where all our efforts aren’t enough. That brings me to lesson number two.

Know when to stop. When you are working the clay, there comes a point where it gets tired. Sometimes, we finish a work before the clay tires out. For beginners and those getting back into pottery, it is difficult to notice when the clay is done. If you keep working with it past that point, the clay will collapse. In our work with the clay, as your hands and eyes and body learn more, it is usually clear when the clay is tired. In life it takes experience as well to know when to stop. It takes the walls falling in on your pot-of-a-life to recognize all the signs that were there before but we couldn’t see. You and I must learn from those moments. We must teach ourselves when to stop, let go, and admit things about a situation.

Sometimes, the pot is perfect. We stop working the clay before it ever gets tired. As experience is gained, this happens more and more. Most of the time, though, with throwing pots and with life, the skill of noticing the little changes in the clay and seeing when to work a little more and when to stop is where we find ourselves. It takes the work of the Holy Spirit and our own open hearts to see how to live this lesson out. There have been times when it is obvious: a conversation takes a turn that is at best inappropriate or at worst outright sinful. More often than not it is more subtle. My failures at stopping at the right time are usually because I think if I work a little harder, everything will be alright. The reality is that my work alone is never going to make something better. It is listening to God’s Spirit and the cues of the “clay” that will move us forward into creating the Kingdom.

Thanks to Amy for being my partner in this adventure! Look soon for the next lesson. Chaos into creation. Oh, yeah, this clay thing is getting my God-thought (theology) juices flowing. (Oh, and Amy may have told me I need to write more!)