I should be ecstatic. Absolutely thrilled beyond words. Sadly, I’m not.
First: I found out Jillian Michaels was gay. I was totally stunned. Honestly, when I read a blurb online this afternoon about her adoption of two children I expected to hear about her totally hot, muscle-chiseled husband named “Joe”. Nope. The article mentions her partner, Heidi. Tell me: how the heck did I miss THAT little news flash?
Tomorrow I’ll find out Trainer Bob’s really straight. :
Second: I have blabbed all week about the retreat at Spring Hill, what a wonderful time I had, sported my red lobster self around the office, collected names of those who will be on the “Traci Forced Me To” list for next year, showed pictures. And yesterday I blew my cork over an issue that has been an issue for longer than I have been employed at the company I’m employed at (get all that redundancy?). Still I gave way to several F-Bombs, a few poop bombs, and a snarky comment (followed by a flit-of-the-hand) to one of the VP’s.
He gave me a free microwave. :
My pants are too big again. I bought new slacks to wear for work (the khaki ones caused quite a few stares). They’re marked “L” for long, but they really need to be about an inch longer. I could let out the hem, but I’m afraid it’s going to be months before that seam works itself out of the fabric. Plus, they’re dust collectors. Oh. Em. Gee. By the end of the day I look like I hugged four cats and the neighbor’s lab-a-dabba-doodle. My jeans get bunchy up top because they’re probably two inches too big. Wearing a belt is completely stupid because “it” fits around me, and jeans still do their own thing. So I did what any other American girl in recovery who’s dealt with massive short-term weight loss and struggled with compulsive behavior would do:
I grabbed my wallet and opened a browser.
Should one just sort of exclude the shiny, blinky object which has been in my possession all week, I did purchase jeans (Kohl’s had them online, just not on the shelf in the store). When I initially tried them on, it was…um….quite the dance. If the harness pictures from Spring Hill weren’t a clue, let me just say I do have extra skin in front that on any given day stays hidden quite well. Yet, these jeans which I was able to get buttoned gave me quite the muffin-top (the person who created that word is, in my humble opinion, a jack-butt).
My solution was to try and shove it all into the jeans. Seriously. Can you iMaGiNe??
They got thrown across the room and stayed buried under a pillow for while. I dug them out this afternoon.
Unless you’ve personally experienced what it is like to be severely, morbidly obese (I think I was a category three), you just don’t get it. I spent years, years – over TWO decades – struggling to find clothing which fit properly. Eventually I landed in tent-like shirt and floppy pants. I was miserable, absolutely loathed shopping. I think I mentioned it on this blog before, but just prior to my weight loss surgery (which later was followed by my paying some guy to run me around a gym for hours on end) I had stopped buying clothes in stores because I became completely embarrassed over how I looked and purchased them online.
Now I am a different person (quite literally) and frankly, I want to cry:
By the way – those are the jeans.
I learned something about myself during the retreat: weight loss does nothing for you spiritually. I shared this with our group: I have a ton of head knowledge. I know Scripture, I love to study Scripture. I could point out all the verses about sin, or how God loves, or how Jesus lives, or how since the beginning of time God longed for one thing: an uninterrupted relationship with all of us. What I could not do is tell you how much God loves me. There’s some disconnect between that beautiful book I own with hundreds of my own notes scribbled in the margins (and between verses) and my heart. It’s not the question of whether or not I’m saved. I have asked Christ into my life, I have prayed for His forgiveness, and I know grace. Not just merely saw grace, but I know it firsthand in my life.
But the whole subject of how much God loves me, how He sees me – I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Yes, I know we’re not “meant” to wrap our heads around such a grand-sized thought. But there is something about unconditional, unwavering, unmetered love I have not experienced. I don’t know love like I know grace.
I bet if I put as much effort into what it is to know the love of God as I put forth the effort of working out, then I would truly know. I would know the height, the depths, the width and the breadths God’s love is for me.