It's been a few days, since I have written. I wish I had a good reason, other then it's hard to keep writing about the same subject matter, over and over again. Also, I haven't been doing so hot.
I came down with the stomach flu last week. There's nothing quite like waking up on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, and you don't really remember why you are there. The violence of the illness caused me to burst blood vessels in my face and in my eye. So on top of already struggling with my fragile sense of self-esteem, that was really cute, in a terribly horrific sort of way.
Since those moments, I will admit my workouts have suffered and have mostly consisted of lot's of long walks, just to get out of the door. I have felt weak, and today is the first day I have felt any sort of strength return. All my physical energies have been poured into waking up, showering, and my daily activities.
My eating, has left some room for healthy. My weakest moment this week was last night...I had the honor and privelege of celebrating a dear friends upcoming wedding at her personal shower this weekend. The bridal party got a hotel at the MOA and we decided to go to the MOA for breakfast. Cinnabon called my name. I can handle that. It is alright to indulge once in a while for such a special occasion. The weak moment came, in that I had purchased a second Cinnabon for a friend. I had forgotten to give them the Cinnabon when I had seen them on Saturday afternoon. "No big deal," I thought. I can give it to them Sunday morning at church. I brought the offending item into my house so it didn't sit in my car overnight.
Then after I prayed for the eveing. And laid in bed, all I could do was think about the warm, sweet, gooeyness sitting on my kitchen cabinet. Wouldn't you know that 3/4 of the way through that second Cinnabon, is when I realized to utter lack of self-control. It's when I realized the pure selfishness, that occured. I closed the lid, and walked away.
I did "confess" to my friend and showed them the mostly eaten Cinnabon. They just kept exclaiming: "YOU ATE THE MIDDLE, THAT'S THE BEST PART." Duh. Of course it is.
What is it that overcame me in that moment. Did the sugar rush from the first Cinnabon cause such an addictive response I couldn't control myself? Was selfishness too much to overcome? Will I always and forever resort to emotional eating when life is difficult?
Can I ever stop myself before the mistakes are made? When I make those mistakes, when am I going to extend grace to myself? I have learned to extend grace to people who make mistakes. I am getting better at forgiving people quickly when they wrong me. But for myself I just don't have it, yet. I still feel really beat up over that decision. I am itching to get out and do my workout, as a form of repentance for that mistake.
I hate not being perfect. I really do. I hate that I can't just set my mind on something, and it happens. I hate that there are parts of my personality that cause me to war with myself. I dislike being selfish. Yet, I move in such self-serving ways sometimes. I hate that I am weepy and overly emotional. Yet, I feel righteous anger at the moment when someone points out my actions are being dictated by my emotions. I restore through quiet and alone time. I crave the alone time, even. Yet, I need to talk out my life. I long to have that one person who will listen to everything I have to say, and just understands me and gets me, and I feel really left out when people don't ask me to participate in group events or activities.
I am tired today, but it doesn't mean today is a wasted day. Just because I over-indulged, doesn't mean I won't pick up the pace tomorrrow on my run. Just because food choices have been poor-er this week doesn't mean today has to take on that direction.
That's my favorite thing about God. Nothing is wasted in His hands. He goes with us, and stands before us. He doesn't see mistakes as a failure. He redeems the years the locusts have stolen. He gives grace for the mistakes. He calls us to come to him for grace-filled, air. He invites us to sit at his feet, and be. I'm trying to learn to be. I like the thought ove just being. Simple. To be caught up in His grace that He doles out freely. That even in the midst of a hurricane He will not lose me. He will find me.
As everything swirls around me: new life-style, work job-description in flux, my relationship disintegrating, my heart crumbling, friends moving away, family members attending rehab, being sick, personal medical issues, dealing with the raw emotions from my past, forgiving my abusers, and refusing to be a victim. My energy is being drained. But, I have peace, it passes understanding. I am confident in one thing and one thing only: Jesus will not lose me in this. God will not let me fall. If He has brought me to it, He will bring me through it He sees me, and He knows me. And He will not lose me in the battle. He loves me, and because He loves me, He will not lose me in this.
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