I jog/walk around my neighborhood. Occasionally I see other neighbors walking their dogs. I’ve been noticing that many people seem to walk faster than I jog. This pushes me to increase my speed.
One of my friends pointed out that I compare myself to others often. I’m not competitive, but I set my standards by what I see around me or by statistical averages. Here are some examples: one of my secret indulgences is looking up annual statistical reports on www.bls.gov. (I guess it’s not a secret anymore!) I also make a game out of comparing prices at Costco vs. Walmart. I actually type up lists of what is a good deal at which store. It bothers me that I’ve shrunk a half-inch, and now I’m shorter than the national average.
Most of this seems harmless. Yet this habit of setting my standards based on statistical averages or comparison to others will eventually lead to bitterness or discontentment. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who sets her own pace or marches to her own rhythm. However, now I see that my internal rhythm is synchronized to the external rhythms around me.
Lord, help me to be in sync with Your rhythm and pace. Help me to tune out everything that is not of You.
streams
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Spanx-Out
I think I invented a new word. I just submitted it to Urban Dictionary.
Spanx-out (verb) when one loses consciousness due to prolonged restrictions or constrictions. (Derived from the light-headedness one feels when wearing Spanx)
Synonyms--pass out, faint, collapse, drop.
Examples:
-Girl, I’m about to spanx-out from this diet!
-I’ve been so busy lately. I’m going to spanx-out if I don’t have some fun soon.
For those of you who have never heard of Spanx, it is an undergarment that holds in any extra lumps of fat so as to give the wearer smooth curves. I’ve worn mine twice. Both times, I felt so uncomfortable that I thought I would surely faint. Basically they are modern-day corsets.
Why would we, as women, voluntarily inflict this torture on ourselves? Because we see other women who do it, and we crank up our expectations to unreasonable levels.
Recently, I’ve read several articles about moms who are addicted to Aderall--a stimulant prescribed for ADHD. Most of them claim they need it to accomplish all they have to do in a day. Some of them eventually turned into meth addicts.
I’m not saying that Spanx wearers will eventually turn into meth addicts! I’m merely suggesting that when we place undue pressure on ourselves, we are likely to faint. There has to be a sweet spot between debauchery and self-torture, between overindulgence and constriction.
I admire women who are comfortably authentic. They express who they are in their choices, rather than bow to some restrictive standard that reflects current social trends. These women have a healthy self-image, a fair amount of self-discipline, and a pleasant self-acceptance. They inspire me to do the same.
Spanx-out (verb) when one loses consciousness due to prolonged restrictions or constrictions. (Derived from the light-headedness one feels when wearing Spanx)
Synonyms--pass out, faint, collapse, drop.
Examples:
-Girl, I’m about to spanx-out from this diet!
-I’ve been so busy lately. I’m going to spanx-out if I don’t have some fun soon.
For those of you who have never heard of Spanx, it is an undergarment that holds in any extra lumps of fat so as to give the wearer smooth curves. I’ve worn mine twice. Both times, I felt so uncomfortable that I thought I would surely faint. Basically they are modern-day corsets.
Why would we, as women, voluntarily inflict this torture on ourselves? Because we see other women who do it, and we crank up our expectations to unreasonable levels.
Recently, I’ve read several articles about moms who are addicted to Aderall--a stimulant prescribed for ADHD. Most of them claim they need it to accomplish all they have to do in a day. Some of them eventually turned into meth addicts.
I’m not saying that Spanx wearers will eventually turn into meth addicts! I’m merely suggesting that when we place undue pressure on ourselves, we are likely to faint. There has to be a sweet spot between debauchery and self-torture, between overindulgence and constriction.
I admire women who are comfortably authentic. They express who they are in their choices, rather than bow to some restrictive standard that reflects current social trends. These women have a healthy self-image, a fair amount of self-discipline, and a pleasant self-acceptance. They inspire me to do the same.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Talker's Remorse
You’ve all heard the term buyer’s remorse--when a person buys something and regrets his/her decision shortly after the purchase. Well, I routinely have talker’s remorse. I’ll be in a group, conversation will be flowing…then I get carried away and say things that I later regret. As one of my friends noted recently, even when I don’t know anything about a subject, I feel free to expound on my ignorance.
It’s similar to how I feel after eating junk food. I start off with a handful of chips, and before you know it I’ve eaten a whole bag. I’m more likely to do this when I’m either watching TV or with a group of women friends. Social eating and social talking are my weaknesses. You don’t even want to know what happens when I get together with my gal pals AND there is a bag of potato chips involved ;-) Yes, that’s right…I wake up the next morning with a social hangover! Instead of the ‘walk of shame’, I go through the ‘talk of shame’. I usually end up calling my friends and apologizing for saying whatever salt-induced thing came into my head!
Writing is better for me. I get to wait and consider my words before others are exposed to it. I also have learned to limit group sizes. I can control my speech better when I’m in a one-on-one conversation. I’ve also asked my close friends to take the chips away after they think I’ve had enough. These are the things I try to do but it isn’t enough. It’s like expecting an intoxicated person to have the judgment to know when it’s time to stop.
So…these days when the compulsion to talk excessively comes upon me, I follow the 12-step program. I admit that I don’t have control, and I rely on God to help me get out of this habit.
It’s similar to how I feel after eating junk food. I start off with a handful of chips, and before you know it I’ve eaten a whole bag. I’m more likely to do this when I’m either watching TV or with a group of women friends. Social eating and social talking are my weaknesses. You don’t even want to know what happens when I get together with my gal pals AND there is a bag of potato chips involved ;-) Yes, that’s right…I wake up the next morning with a social hangover! Instead of the ‘walk of shame’, I go through the ‘talk of shame’. I usually end up calling my friends and apologizing for saying whatever salt-induced thing came into my head!
Writing is better for me. I get to wait and consider my words before others are exposed to it. I also have learned to limit group sizes. I can control my speech better when I’m in a one-on-one conversation. I’ve also asked my close friends to take the chips away after they think I’ve had enough. These are the things I try to do but it isn’t enough. It’s like expecting an intoxicated person to have the judgment to know when it’s time to stop.
So…these days when the compulsion to talk excessively comes upon me, I follow the 12-step program. I admit that I don’t have control, and I rely on God to help me get out of this habit.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Feeding Your Spirit
“Prayer is the way that the life of God in us is nourished.” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest)
As soon as I read this, I had an image of God nursing the Spirit that is placed within me. We are used to viewing God in a paternal role. This analogy only works if we can also recognize God’s maternal nature. As we pray, we suckle at God’s breasts, while she holds us close in her arms. (I find it awkward to use the feminine pronoun in reference to God, but there is no other way to convey this image.)
What if we are unable to latch on, or lack the suckling instinct? The Spirit of God within us fails to thrive. Prayer feeds God’s Holy Spirit within us. It is a bonding experience between our soul and the Divine.
Consider the following verse from Isaiah:
He will say, “I have long been silent;
yes, I have restrained myself.
But now, like a woman in labor,
I will cry and groan and pant.” (Isaiah 42:14 NLT)
Many famous Christian authors have acknowledged that God may have a feminine side. They recognize that God is comforting, nurturing, nourishing, caring, sensitive, and gentle. These are generally seen as maternal attributes. I am not advocating that we start seeing God as a female. I just wonder if we might be limiting our understanding of God by dismissing parts of the Divine.
Here is an article from the BBC that delves into this subject. I don’t agree with all of it, but it is thought provoking.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/christianity/women/femininedivine_1.shtml
As soon as I read this, I had an image of God nursing the Spirit that is placed within me. We are used to viewing God in a paternal role. This analogy only works if we can also recognize God’s maternal nature. As we pray, we suckle at God’s breasts, while she holds us close in her arms. (I find it awkward to use the feminine pronoun in reference to God, but there is no other way to convey this image.)
What if we are unable to latch on, or lack the suckling instinct? The Spirit of God within us fails to thrive. Prayer feeds God’s Holy Spirit within us. It is a bonding experience between our soul and the Divine.
Consider the following verse from Isaiah:
He will say, “I have long been silent;
yes, I have restrained myself.
But now, like a woman in labor,
I will cry and groan and pant.” (Isaiah 42:14 NLT)
Many famous Christian authors have acknowledged that God may have a feminine side. They recognize that God is comforting, nurturing, nourishing, caring, sensitive, and gentle. These are generally seen as maternal attributes. I am not advocating that we start seeing God as a female. I just wonder if we might be limiting our understanding of God by dismissing parts of the Divine.
Here is an article from the BBC that delves into this subject. I don’t agree with all of it, but it is thought provoking.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/christianity/women/femininedivine_1.shtml
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
3 Hotdogs
I heard the following story during the sermon last Sunday:
Our church is part of the University of Iowa complex. Every year they give out free food during the first week of class. They fed 700 people during the past week, a different meal each day. On the last day, they served hotdogs. After everything was over, and the church staff and volunteers had finished cleaning up, they noticed a woman sitting alone in the church sanctuary. They decided to leave her alone, figuring she just needed some time to pray or meditate. After some time, she came out of the sanctuary and was just hanging out in the lobby, looking a bit uncertain on what to do next. Our pastor, Fr. Ed, decided to reach out to her and find out her story. This lady was visiting from out of town. Her 9-year-old son was in the hospital with serious health problems. He was having a tracheotomy. She just stumbled on the church and decided to come in, because she wasn’t sure what else to do with herself. Fr. Ed went down to the kitchen to see if there was any food left. There were 3 hotdogs and some chips. He heated them up in the microwave and brought them to the woman. She ate, she talked, they prayed, and she went back to the hospital. Fr. Ed’s lesson about the story was that you never know when and where the Holy Spirit alights. He felt like the last 3 hotdogs might have made a bigger impact than the first 700. I really liked this story.
Sometimes we measure our success in this world by numbers. If you are a business person, you may keep track of how many units were sold or how much profit you made. If you are in a service ministry, you may keep tabs on how many people you served, how much money you gave away, or how many hours you volunteered.
Yet, as this story shows, sometimes God works through us to reach out in small ways to one person. A listening ear, a comforting word, a supportive hand, a few prayerful moments, some leftover food…all can make an immeasurable impact.
Our church is part of the University of Iowa complex. Every year they give out free food during the first week of class. They fed 700 people during the past week, a different meal each day. On the last day, they served hotdogs. After everything was over, and the church staff and volunteers had finished cleaning up, they noticed a woman sitting alone in the church sanctuary. They decided to leave her alone, figuring she just needed some time to pray or meditate. After some time, she came out of the sanctuary and was just hanging out in the lobby, looking a bit uncertain on what to do next. Our pastor, Fr. Ed, decided to reach out to her and find out her story. This lady was visiting from out of town. Her 9-year-old son was in the hospital with serious health problems. He was having a tracheotomy. She just stumbled on the church and decided to come in, because she wasn’t sure what else to do with herself. Fr. Ed went down to the kitchen to see if there was any food left. There were 3 hotdogs and some chips. He heated them up in the microwave and brought them to the woman. She ate, she talked, they prayed, and she went back to the hospital. Fr. Ed’s lesson about the story was that you never know when and where the Holy Spirit alights. He felt like the last 3 hotdogs might have made a bigger impact than the first 700. I really liked this story.
Sometimes we measure our success in this world by numbers. If you are a business person, you may keep track of how many units were sold or how much profit you made. If you are in a service ministry, you may keep tabs on how many people you served, how much money you gave away, or how many hours you volunteered.
Yet, as this story shows, sometimes God works through us to reach out in small ways to one person. A listening ear, a comforting word, a supportive hand, a few prayerful moments, some leftover food…all can make an immeasurable impact.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Is Ignorance the Only Path to Bliss?
Recently, I made a list of healthy meals at my favorite restaurants. I noticed that most of my regular choices, mostly salads, were deceptively unhealthy. Now that I am aware, I no longer enjoy eating out. I feel a bit like Eve, after she ate the forbidden apple and became conscious of the difference between good and evil. She could no longer enjoy Paradise. So does this mean, ignorance is the only path to bliss? If so, then does enlightenment always lead to misery?
Innocence is admirable, especially in the young. Yet being oblivious is inexcusable once you are grown-up. Most adults are somewhere in between awareness and ignorance, in a phase called denial. Except for me, of course, I deny that I’m in denial.
We live mostly in a transitional phase of semi-consciousness. We are vaguely aware of the transcendental God, as well as the transitory nature of our earthly concerns.
When you look at maps online, you have the option of zooming in or out. Similarly, the more we zoom in on God, the rest disappears from the screen. As we maximize God, everything else is minimized.
As we mature spiritually, we pass through phases of innocence, confusion, denial, awareness, more denial…until eventually everything else is diminished and God is magnified. This is true bliss.
Innocence is admirable, especially in the young. Yet being oblivious is inexcusable once you are grown-up. Most adults are somewhere in between awareness and ignorance, in a phase called denial. Except for me, of course, I deny that I’m in denial.
We live mostly in a transitional phase of semi-consciousness. We are vaguely aware of the transcendental God, as well as the transitory nature of our earthly concerns.
When you look at maps online, you have the option of zooming in or out. Similarly, the more we zoom in on God, the rest disappears from the screen. As we maximize God, everything else is minimized.
As we mature spiritually, we pass through phases of innocence, confusion, denial, awareness, more denial…until eventually everything else is diminished and God is magnified. This is true bliss.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Mom-Cave
My husband has a man-cave, a private space of his own. My teenage son has taken over the basement as his private retreat. I, on the other hand, have a desk and a chair in the living room. This is my choice. As long as everyone is asleep in the morning, I have time and space to myself. However, I’m available as soon as my family is awake.
Some mornings, I don’t have time to calibrate my soul to God. When I fail to center myself, I end up off-center for the rest of the day. I have this uneasy feeling that I’m walking around in a fog, tripping over obstacles, unaware of dangers.
I hear a whisper, “Retreat… Come back to me.”
I respond, “Later… I’ve got things to do now.”
I need a mom-cave, a private place of retreat. So far, I’ve managed to carve out time for prayer, reflection, and writing. Now I need to carve out a private space where I make myself available to God.
Some mornings, I don’t have time to calibrate my soul to God. When I fail to center myself, I end up off-center for the rest of the day. I have this uneasy feeling that I’m walking around in a fog, tripping over obstacles, unaware of dangers.
I hear a whisper, “Retreat… Come back to me.”
I respond, “Later… I’ve got things to do now.”
I need a mom-cave, a private place of retreat. So far, I’ve managed to carve out time for prayer, reflection, and writing. Now I need to carve out a private space where I make myself available to God.
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