Honeymoon wishes, birthday wishes, and life wishes.
Staring out the window, pretending the [albeit beautiful] cornfield landscape is the New England coast and wishing our honeymoon fund had a few extra zeroes attached to the amount, contemplating a beautiful soul I know who will be with Jesus any day now, and celebrating the life of a dear friend whose birthday is today. Emotions, only one of which I'm [quite literally] wearing on my sleeve:
...and all others exhibited via an impulsive bangs decision that I'm not sure if I like, but whatever.
My heart has changed a lot in the past month and I feel the need to share this because I think it's important. I noticed the difference last week when a family (whom we had met ONCE) had us and another family over for dinner. I've felt the difference in my morning runs and my afternoon yoga. In how I view the fridge, working out, and community in general.
About a month ago, I saw a lot of my thought processes and lifestyle choices and realized the implications of those. In short, after training for a half marathon two years ago, what had started out as running a LOT and replenishing those [sometimes] thousands of calories gradually turned into eating a LOT and feeling guilty, so running to make up for it.. The cycle got progressively worse, and here I am two years later, dreading working out but feeling guilty every time I don't. My constantly body goals and threatened my happiness. My heart no longer wanted to work out, but felt the need to.
This scared me because this is not who I want to be. This is not who I want my [someday] daughters to see what health is. And with this dear friend of mine who will be with Jesus soon, I'm rethinking how I want this life to be lived. And so I delved into the month of September with a new definition of health: enjoyment.
And enjoy I did. I enjoyed each cool day with long walks that sometimes turned into runs if I felt like it. I stopped glancing at my running app to check my mile time and let God astound me with His artwork as I danced through the cornfields in Iowa. I began doing yoga because it decreases stress, makes my back feel GREAT, loosens my tight hips, and lets me enjoy my healthy body. I enjoyed foods that God specifically intended to be foods (you know, the ones that grow from the ground). In a newfound thankfulness, I began enjoying what I call "Eden foods", ones I imagine God specifically making, laughing at the silly-looking pineapples and watching His children delight in a peach's sweetness.
I stopped counting calories and started counting the numerous gifts He has given me: strong, long legs that have carried me through both snow and sand, for cool breezes that wake me up on a morning walk, for pumpkins and how they give autumn smells and tastes. I stopped measuring my waist and began measuring the width of my smiles when I eat frozen bananas, and my walks are recorded in terms of prayers spoken and praises sung rather than miles. Instead of the pleasant surprise of seeing less pounds on the scale, I find myself surprised at how little sugar things like apples crisp and peanut butter and tomato sauce actually need because they are rather sweet on their own. I see eating these real foods as a worship of its own, as if to say, "Lord, what You have made is enough."
And when sweet friends invite me over for dinner, I thankfully eat what they make, I'll break [even white!] bread with them because I see every shared meal as a meal of victory because we have a Savior who has provided us salvation, an eternal home, and rich wine with which to celebrate. I never leave a wedding before the cake is served, and I will ALWAYS have a piece of my mother-in-law's homemade cheesecake because I have tasted very few things more delicious than that in my life.
I've experienced the beauty of homemade meals from hands rather than cans, from a recipe box rather than a cereal box. That the time to make, to simmer, to smell, to wait anxiously while things cook and bubble and boil is much more fun than just a microwave. And to protect my time, that if I'm too busy to cook like this, maybe I'm just too busy in general. And busyness is the thief of enjoyment.
I find joy in moving my body the way my Creator designed it. I drink full-fat milk because that's how it came out of the cow, right? I've stopped dreaming about a flat stomach, because I love how my laughs bellow from the bottom of my soft tummy, and laughing is my favorite ab workout. I do plan on gaining five pounds over the Christmas season (and hopefully losing it again afterwards), but I won't know if I do or not because we left our scale at our apartment. My ideal body is the one I'm in as long as it is moving, is fueled, and is enjoying. I'm not sure what "Paleo" or "organic" or any of those things fully mean, but I know what gives me energy, what my tummy digests easily and what breakfast fuels me in the morning to make today a day that is enjoyed, is appreciated, is not abused or lived gluttonously, but danced through in joyous contentment. I've learned that the purpose of feasts are not ultimately to eat, but to celebrate lives restored, a risen Savior, and the freedom we have.
I wish I'd started living this way a long time ago, of seeing health as enjoyment without abuse, of seeing fitness as a body that loves to move rather than a number or a size.
But for now, I put a few chunks of chocolate on my banana ice cream in celebration of Alyssa's birthday, and I am about to go on a walk because this day is an astoundingly gorgeous one, and I refuse to miss it.
...and all others exhibited via an impulsive bangs decision that I'm not sure if I like, but whatever.
My heart has changed a lot in the past month and I feel the need to share this because I think it's important. I noticed the difference last week when a family (whom we had met ONCE) had us and another family over for dinner. I've felt the difference in my morning runs and my afternoon yoga. In how I view the fridge, working out, and community in general.
About a month ago, I saw a lot of my thought processes and lifestyle choices and realized the implications of those. In short, after training for a half marathon two years ago, what had started out as running a LOT and replenishing those [sometimes] thousands of calories gradually turned into eating a LOT and feeling guilty, so running to make up for it.. The cycle got progressively worse, and here I am two years later, dreading working out but feeling guilty every time I don't. My constantly body goals and threatened my happiness. My heart no longer wanted to work out, but felt the need to.
This scared me because this is not who I want to be. This is not who I want my [someday] daughters to see what health is. And with this dear friend of mine who will be with Jesus soon, I'm rethinking how I want this life to be lived. And so I delved into the month of September with a new definition of health: enjoyment.
And enjoy I did. I enjoyed each cool day with long walks that sometimes turned into runs if I felt like it. I stopped glancing at my running app to check my mile time and let God astound me with His artwork as I danced through the cornfields in Iowa. I began doing yoga because it decreases stress, makes my back feel GREAT, loosens my tight hips, and lets me enjoy my healthy body. I enjoyed foods that God specifically intended to be foods (you know, the ones that grow from the ground). In a newfound thankfulness, I began enjoying what I call "Eden foods", ones I imagine God specifically making, laughing at the silly-looking pineapples and watching His children delight in a peach's sweetness.
I stopped counting calories and started counting the numerous gifts He has given me: strong, long legs that have carried me through both snow and sand, for cool breezes that wake me up on a morning walk, for pumpkins and how they give autumn smells and tastes. I stopped measuring my waist and began measuring the width of my smiles when I eat frozen bananas, and my walks are recorded in terms of prayers spoken and praises sung rather than miles. Instead of the pleasant surprise of seeing less pounds on the scale, I find myself surprised at how little sugar things like apples crisp and peanut butter and tomato sauce actually need because they are rather sweet on their own. I see eating these real foods as a worship of its own, as if to say, "Lord, what You have made is enough."
And when sweet friends invite me over for dinner, I thankfully eat what they make, I'll break [even white!] bread with them because I see every shared meal as a meal of victory because we have a Savior who has provided us salvation, an eternal home, and rich wine with which to celebrate. I never leave a wedding before the cake is served, and I will ALWAYS have a piece of my mother-in-law's homemade cheesecake because I have tasted very few things more delicious than that in my life.
I've experienced the beauty of homemade meals from hands rather than cans, from a recipe box rather than a cereal box. That the time to make, to simmer, to smell, to wait anxiously while things cook and bubble and boil is much more fun than just a microwave. And to protect my time, that if I'm too busy to cook like this, maybe I'm just too busy in general. And busyness is the thief of enjoyment.
I find joy in moving my body the way my Creator designed it. I drink full-fat milk because that's how it came out of the cow, right? I've stopped dreaming about a flat stomach, because I love how my laughs bellow from the bottom of my soft tummy, and laughing is my favorite ab workout. I do plan on gaining five pounds over the Christmas season (and hopefully losing it again afterwards), but I won't know if I do or not because we left our scale at our apartment. My ideal body is the one I'm in as long as it is moving, is fueled, and is enjoying. I'm not sure what "Paleo" or "organic" or any of those things fully mean, but I know what gives me energy, what my tummy digests easily and what breakfast fuels me in the morning to make today a day that is enjoyed, is appreciated, is not abused or lived gluttonously, but danced through in joyous contentment. I've learned that the purpose of feasts are not ultimately to eat, but to celebrate lives restored, a risen Savior, and the freedom we have.
I wish I'd started living this way a long time ago, of seeing health as enjoyment without abuse, of seeing fitness as a body that loves to move rather than a number or a size.
But for now, I put a few chunks of chocolate on my banana ice cream in celebration of Alyssa's birthday, and I am about to go on a walk because this day is an astoundingly gorgeous one, and I refuse to miss it.
I am honored that those few chunks of chocolate were for my bday!!!! Come on, somebody! That's what I'm talking about! hahah! LOVE THIS!!!! You are beautiful!!!! Yay for the best definition of health! Worship to Jesus!!! Also Yay for walks! I've " converted" and don't know if I can ever turn back... ha!
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