The bad part of having no junk food in the house is that there is no junk food in the house.  Last night I was stressed out and immediately decided that I wanted chocolate.  No. I didn’t decide I wanted it…I decided that I NEEDED it.  I knew that we didn’t have anything here, but I still went foraging through old junk drawers and cupboards searching for something I may have forgotten.  I was sure I had seen a tootsie roll somewhere.  Or maybe even a chocolate pudding cup.  No such luck.  I was one step away from checking the back of the toilet tank like the old alcoholics in the Lifetime movies.  I ended up eating an orange and going to bed disgruntled.

After I woke up this morning, I began to look back on the night’s events and examine the reasons behind why I laid in bed upset over not being able to have warm brownies straight from the oven.  Why did my body and mind respond to stress by desperately seeking out food?  Why was I SO focused on pleasing my taste buds when I had even acknowledged to myself that I wasn’t hungry.  And I think I’ve figured it out.

I use food as a distraction.  If I focus on finding, preparing, eating, and enjoying food, it occupies my mind enough that I don’t feel the urge to dwell on whatever problem is at hand.  It’s the same way that an alcoholic uses liquor to distract them from their problems.  And last night, even though I didn’t’ get the food I was looking for, I still succeeded in avoiding thinking about what was stressing me out by instead thinking about how much I wanted food.  The brain is sneaky that way.

So now that I have a working theory as to why I reacted the way I did last night, I am curious to see if this is a regular thing with me.  Sometimes my strongest food cravings come when I am the weakest emotionally.  As I work on becoming more emotionally aware and in control, I am hoping that the food issue will follow suit.

The next time that I find myself turning over furniture looking for junk food under the cushions, I am going to try and remember to stop and examine whatever issue(s) I have that I may be trying to hide with extra, unneeded calories.

“We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.” 2 Corinthians 10:5

When I was a little girl I went through a few stages where I would get terrible leg cramps, especially at night.  I don’t remember how old I was when my mom and dad took me to see a doctor about it, but I am guessing I was probably around ten or eleven…maybe a little younger.  I don’t remember how the office looked or where it was.  I don’t really remember what the doctor looked like.  Honestly, I don’t even remember what his diagnosis or suggestions for treatment were.  But one thing that very clearly sticks out in my head is that I left that visit in tears because it was the first time that anyone had ever used the word obese in reference to me.

Flash forward to seventh grade.  I had a huge crush on a boy whose locker was close to mine.  For nearly the whole year (at least it seems now), I obsessed over this boy in my head.  He was always friendly.  We talked pretty often and I remember him being very funny (sometimes, as a seventh grade girl, that’s all it takes in order to be convinced that a boy is the love of your life).  So after months of nervousness and ridiculously dramatic conversations with friends about what I should do, we all decided that I should express my love to him.  So I did it.  I wrote THE note.  At the end of the school day, I slipped it in his locker and left.  The next morning, after a night of imagining our lives together, I headed back to school - nervous that I was now going to have to face him.  When I got to my locker and opened it, my heart fluttered a little bit as I saw a note drop to the floor.  I picked it up, went to a stall in one of the bathrooms and opened it.  It was a piece of paper with five words on it.  Five words that molded the way that I viewed myself and my relationship with boys from that point on.  “I don’t like fat girls.”  Ouch.  I faked a stomach ache that day and went home.  That boy never talked to me again.

Even as adult women, it is at the core of how we were created to want to be seen as beautiful.  We want (in some form or another) to be swept away by the love our life, told that we are beautiful and irreplaceable, then be taken on some exciting adventure where we live happily ever after (read the book Captivating by John and Staci Eldridge for a  deeper look into that idea).  For a young girl struggling with body issues in today’s world of Abercrombie and Fitch models and Beyonces, this desire can very easily be crushed and turned into a deep wound that may take years to heal.  That is why, as adults, we need to be very aware of these issues in our children and learn how to combat the negative thoughts that our children may face regarding issues surrounding body image.

Without being overly sensitive and paranoid about every little word that comes out of our mouths, we do need to realize that as the parents and friends of young people that are in the process of developing their self identities, that our words have a direct and powerful hand in shaping the way that they view themselves.  I’d like to offer some advice to grown ups about some things that you shouldn’t say or do to the child or teen who is overweight.

Here are some of the types of things that I remember (I want to clarify first that these things weren’t from my parents…they were always very supportive of me during these struggles):

“Oh, he is disgusting…look at his belly!“  Don’t laugh at or make fun of fat people.  Besides it just being childish and mean, it can affect the person next to you even if you are talking about a stranger or someone on TV.  The young person who is already self-conscious about themselves will take your comment about the other person and apply it to themselves.

“You’re getting as big as a house.”  This one is pretty “duh” but I very clearly remember hearing it from a relative.  Sometimes, you just need to remember that if you can’t say something nice, then you are an idiot.  Uh, I mean…don’t say anything at all.  Sorry.  Old wounds coming out there.

“This is too big for me, maybe it’ll fit you.”  
“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”
“You look like you are getting a little chunky.” (This one is often said with a playful poke to the midsection or a pat on the butt).

Whatever they are, these slightly snarky and passive aggressive comments typically come as you get into your older teenage years, but they are just as hurtful.  Trust me, if your child or young friend is getting chunky, they are aware of it…don’t make it your mission to make sure.

If I had more time and readers with a longer attention span, I could go on for a long time talking about the psychology and strategy behind the way that we use our words to help and/or harm the people who we love.  But I don’t have either of those so I’m going to try and just keep it short and simple.  :-)

Be nice.
Be sensitive.
Be supportive.

They say that people battle their weight for a reason.  It IS an emotional battle.  You can come out at the end of some days feeling victorious and triumphant and other days you can feel wounded, bloody, and raw.

I'm not saying you can't encourage and help someone to make healthier choices and develop good habits, but as a grown up, just be sure that you are the person who is helping to strengthen and soothe the wounds and scars that are going to come to the kid in your life, don’t be the one inflicting the damage.

I’m not very good at math.  Never have been and have come to accept that I never will be - and I’m o.k. with that.  I married someone who more than makes up for my shortcomings in that area (he actually considers doing advanced math equations to be a form of relaxation). I have yet to find myself in need of calculus or trigonometry.  So the other day when I said to Alfred, “A 5k is one point how many miles?” and he responded with “three point one, “ I realized that I had maybe bitten off more than I could chew.

The night before the race I had a hard time going to sleep.  I laid in bed with my headphones on, just listening to music and trying to clear my mind from that day’s events and the events of the day that was approaching more quickly than I would have liked.  Visions of me cramping up and vomiting on the side of the road filled my head.  I imagined the event volunteers and other participants sitting at the finish line yawning and twiddling their thumbs waiting for me to get there.  I hoped that the people who I would be walking with weren’t disappointed that I would slow them down.  At one point, quite subconsciously, I realized that I had been lying there stretching my calves, as if I was preparing to get going already.   At some point I must have fallen asleep though because when the baby started crying at around 4 am, I was so startled that I got out of bed really fast, stubbed my toe, and actually ripped off the toenail…Not off to a great start.

Once morning came and I heard the alarm go off, I woke up with butterflies in my stomach and a pretty sore left toe.  I got up, got myself and the kids dressed and prepared a substantial-but-not-too-heavy-for-a-5k-breakfast followed up with plenty of water (but not so much that I’d have to pee the whole race).  I made sure I wore loose fitting and comfortable clothes so I would be comfortable and hopefully avoid that terrible ailment that sometimes plagues us big guys and girls - chub rub.  (If you don’t know what that is, just find a plus sized friend and ask).  I laced up my tennis shoes, put my hair in a pony tail, threw on some extra deodorant and headed to the starting point.

I couldn’t have asked for better weather.  It was sunny and somewhere between 60 and 65 degrees outside with a slight breeze.  That was one plus for me…had it been hot, I may have “accidentally” overslept.  I got the to registration table where my two sisters were working.  They took my money and had me fill out a form saying that should I get injured or die during the race, I wouldn’t hold the organizers accountable.  Until then, I hadn’t even considered death as an option.  I was about to find out.

We all gathered at the starting point where the beneficiaries of the race led us all in a quick prayer and even a song before we started.  When the whistle blew, all of the people who were actually running took off first.  They were followed shortly thereafter by the power walkers, then the regular old casual walkers, the kids, then moms with strollers, old ladies, then me, my pregnant friend, her 80 year old grandma, and an injured nurse who hadn’t had a day off in 60 days.  And so it began.

Our motley crew started off at a pretty normal pace.  We talked about this and that for a little while as we tried to figure out the map that was supposed to guide us through the neighborhood.  The yellow line marked the way there, the pink one was the way back.  As we walked for a little while, grandma got tired and got a ride back to the starting point.  I won’t lie…a part of me was glad that it wasn’t me dropping out first.  We kept walking.  A little less than half way through there was a pit stop for water and for rereading the map (the yellow and pink lines were starting to intersect periodically, throwing us off track a time or two).  It was about that time that the first of the runners passed us - already on his way back to the finish line.  Shortly thereafter, we were passed by a few more.  I’m pretty convinced those people were cyborgs.

I was starting to feel a little winded and my shin splints were threatening to make themselves known - but so far had been pretty insignificant.  My toe was surprisingly not sore from the previous night’s injury, so I was starting to think that I was going to be ok.  Only a mile to a mile and a half more I thought…I could do it.  It was about that time that the keeper of the map at the time (my preggo friend) said the most beautiful words I’d ever heard:  “Well, if we turn to the right, this should be the last leg of the race.”  I thought I’d heard her wrong…I still needed to cramp up, gasp for air while gulping my water, and then drag myself dramatically over the finish line.  We couldn’t be almost done.  By “last leg,” she must have meant “last half” or something.  But sure enough, about a  block or two up the road sat my sister and my baby at the finish line.  As we passed, she snapped our picture on her phone and announced our finish time.  One hour and seven minutes.  It was over.  There were no flashes of cameras.  There was no vomit.  There weren’t any tears.  No pointing fingers and snickers from the winners.  I wasn’t even THAT sweaty.  As a matter of fact, I was first greeted by my seven year old, asking me if he could go play on the playground.  It was just another moment.

We headed to the place where everyone else was gathering and swapped stories about our experiences along the way.  As I sat there listening to people talk, a few things hit me.  One was that the whole cliché “The only thing to fear is fear itself” was ringing true.  I was so scared of failing and of embarrassing myself that I had almost talked myself out of doing anything at all.  It wasn’t anything super scary or intimidating.  Turns out it was just a long walk.

Second was that I am surrounded by supportive people who aren’t looking to judge and criticize me.  One of the girls who came in first took the time to come tell me good job for finishing.  She also told me how she ran the whole thing but crossed the finish line gagging and laid down face first in the grass.  She is in shape and athletic.  And she gags.  I found that to be strangely comforting.  Others who had also finished made it a point to congratulate me as well.  Even though this race wasn’t about ME, they had noticed that it was a big deal and made an effort to be encouraging.  I appreciated that and was reminded that 99% of the criticism that I fear coming from other people is usually just from myself.

And I did not come in last place.  Granted, the woman who did had to carry her three year old on her shoulders the whole time, had several children tagging along beside her, AND got lost and did an extra lap around one of the blocks.  But still.

I’ve decided that my stress level over this 5k thing is ridiculous.  So much so that it warranted an extra post today.

Like I said in the RIP post, three miles may not seem like a big deal to you, but to me it’s a trek.  So here is what I have been stressing over:

1.  That my body (my shins in particular) are not going to cooperate with me   and I will be in a lot of pain.
2.  That I will look ridiculous because even though I am just walking, I will still be huffing and puffing.
3.  Because of number 1 or 2, I won’t finish and people will think I’m a wuss.

And in response to each of those, here is what I’ve decided.

1.  Who cares.
2.  Who cares.
3.  Who cares.

Funny.  I feel better now.  I’m going to go enjoy the weather, the company, and feel proud for supporting a good cause.

See you at the finish line.

Today’s post isn’t going to be long.  Usually, after my morning routine is done, I sit down to write for the day.  Sometimes it comes to me quickly and I’m done in just a few minutes, and on other days I erase, delete, and rewrite so many times that it takes me a while.  Regardless, I have a very specific amount of time available to me when I am able to sit uninterrupted and think.  

This morning though, after my stuff was done and it was time for me to sit and write this, the baby was fussy and didn‘t want to go to sleep in his bed.  I picked him up and headed to his favorite rocking chair.  He likes to press his cheek up against mine and just sit there - usually until one or both of us dozes off.  So for about half an hour this morning, that is what the two of us did.  We just sat.  Sat, rocked, and relaxed.  Neither of us slept or played or talked.  We just sat and rocked.  

I let myself just sit there without thinking about the work that I still had to do.  I didn’t think about how many calories I ate for breakfast.  I didn’t feel guilty because I could be doing something more productive.  I didn’t even think about overtly spiritual things.  I just let myself rest in the moment and enjoy doing absolutely nothing with my baby.

We are busy people.  We stay busy trying to accomplish things so that we can relax.  It’s weird.  We work ourselves senseless so we can rest later.  We are overstressed, overworked, and under rested.  Even our vacations are so jam packed with activities and recreation that we joke and say we need a vacation from the vacation.  Recreation and rest are not one in the same.  Sometimes we need to just stop.  Just sit quietly and allow ourselves to be still.  Our minds need it, our bodies need it, and our spirit needs it.

Today, just take some time and turn off your phone, TV, computer, and Ipod and stare at a blank wall for a while.  Cuddle with your baby or your pet on the couch.  Take a walk by yourself.  Even if you just sit in the driveway in the car for an extra minute…do something with the sole intent of being still.  

And don’t feel guilty about it.

“On the seventh day God had finished his work of creation, so he rested from all his work.” Genesis 2:2

“You hear that Mr. Anderson?  That is the sound of inevitability…the sound of your death.”  

That is one of my favorite lines from the Matrix.  Agent Smith is talking to Neo as a train approaches, threatening to turn him into a pancake.  It is also the line that runs through my head every time I think about the fact that I signed up to complete a charity 5K run this weekend to benefit He Lives For Kids - my best friend’s children’s ministry that sends care packages to boys and girls who have recently lost siblings like they did a few months ago.

To you it may only be 3.1 miles.  But to me it is THREE POINT ONE MILES!!!  I am embarrassingly out of shape and even the thought of walking it makes me want to sprain my ankle.  Why just last night, I was wheezing after walking up those same kid’s driveway from the bottom of their hill.  Come to think of it, I am starting to think those kids have it out for me.

I’ve mentioned that my husband and I have been walking for at least 30 minutes a day for the past week.  But what I haven’t mentioned is that those thirty minutes for me feel like an eternity.  Today, I seriously asked him how much time was left  (thinking we were almost done).  Much to my dismay, we had only been gone for 12 minutes.  My lower back was tight.  My upper back was tight.  My shins hurt.  I was out of breath and sweaty.  Bless his heart, my husband tries to distract me with conversation, but he doesn’t realize that trying to fake being able to talk normally when you really can’t get a breath is a lot harder than it seems.

Have I mentioned that I weigh over 350 pounds?  People who weigh that much don’t get that way because of our zeal for physical exertion.  We stay that way because exercise is hard for us.  Let’s say that you weigh 160 pounds.  Imagine walking 3.1 miles while carrying 22 gallons of water on your back.  Yeah, that is the approximate weight difference between you and I.  So when my stare turns cold and icy after you say something like, “Awww, it’s not THAT far”, you now know why.  Oh…AND I will be pushing an additional 30 pounds of stroller and baby boy in front of me along with my 22 gallons of fat.  Did I mention that I am praying for rain?

OK.  I am not really praying for rain.  That would be mean.  I love those kids and fully support the fact that they want to reach out to kids like themselves and spread a little of the love that they are so full of.  I’m going to go and do my best.  I may be the slowest finisher, but I’ll finish it.  You may lap me a few times but I promise to not trip you (although I cannot promise that I won’t be tripping you in my mind).

So if you don’t have plans this Saturday and want to help out a good cause and live in the Chillicothe area (or are willing to travel to Chillicothe), feel free to come and join us at 9 AM at Triple Crown Family Fun Center.  The registration fee is $20 and will go to He Lives For Kids.  For your support, you will receive a t-shirt, free water at various stops along the way and best of all, you can walk behind me and hear noises like this:

As I type this, not one or two, but THREE houses across the street from me are getting new roofs.  The trash truck is on it’s way down the street with it’s compactor running, my phone has rang twice, my son (who is still in his car seat despite the fact I got home nearly thirty minutes ago) is half squealing, half laughing at something incredibly funny on the back of his own hand, the dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer are all going, and there is actually a bird flapping and pecking at my side window, trying to get in.  I’ve already had two visitors stop by. 

I have 4 hampers of laundry that need folded and put away (not including the load in the washer and the load in the dryer), I need to make a dish to take over to a friend’s house tonight, figure out how to get a Crystal Light stain out of the carpet, clean my bathroom, make my bed, sweep the kitchen floor, write this blog, take care of the baby, pick my 7 year old up from school, help him with his homework, and get everyone ready to leave the house by 5:30 to get to dinner.  And I’m sure the kids will be playing outside tonight so when we get home, my husband and I will need to tag team showers and bed time.  I only have two kids.  My best friend is pregnant and about to adopt 2 children in addition to the five she already has.

Life is not always calm.  We live in a very busy culture that (despite modern conveniences) seems to just be getting busier and busier.  Average, everyday tasks and chores can take up all of our time if we let them.  Making time for priorities is not something that comes naturally, it is a learned behavior.

What priorities do you push out of the way in order to make room for everything else you’ve got going on?  Time with the family?  Exercise?  Sleep?  Time with God?  Or if you are a busy parent, maybe it’s simple things like brushing your teeth and showering!  Whatever it is, you need to ask yourself how much of a priority it really is to you if you are willing to sacrifice it in order to do something else.

And on the flip side, what things are you filling your time with that aren’t really necessary?  How many hours a week do you spend on sports and extracurricular stuff?  Are you working too much?  Are you obsessed with having a clean house?  How about TV and Facebook, how much time do you spend looking at those that could be used more efficiently?

For years I said that I didn’t have time to exercise, and I think that was true.  The way that I structured my day didn’t allow for it.  It apparently wasn’t THAT high on my list of things to do.  But recently I have made myself spend at least 30 minutes a day doing something.  If that means sacrificing a TV show or asking my child to do an extra chore in order to free up some space, then that’s what I have been making myself do.  There have been a few days when I’ve tried to weasel my way out of it but my husband pushes me.  I’m completely annoyed with him in the moment but he knows that this is important to me so he sticks to his guns, and after I am done I appreciate it…just don’t tell him that.

What are your priorities?  Are you treating them with the importance that you think they deserve?  If your not, sit down and look at your schedule.  Pay attention to what it is that you have deemed as more important and make the necessary changes.  Reaching your goals depend on it.


“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.” Ephesians 5:15-16

“How long will you lie there, O sluggard? When will you arise from your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you like a robber, and want like an armed man.” Proverbs 6:9-11

"I love God but I hate organized religion."

I can’t tell you how many times in my life I have heard those words.  And I get it…really, I do.  I’ve joked with people that there needs to be a church recovery group just for people who have had bad experiences with churches in the past.  There are several different types of churches that require rehab after experiencing them.  

First, there’s the one that we’ll call the Church of Appearances.  This is the church where people go to see and be seen.  The priorities here include making sure that you are there every Sunday well dressed and neatly groomed with your well behaved children in tow.  You don’t HAVE to have a lovely home, a happy marriage, an appropriate amount of money saved up for junior’s college fund, or have your life all figured out to be a part of this church BUT it is best if you at least pretend that you do.  And if for some unexplained reason you show up disheveled or (heaven forbid) in tears, expect other members to nervously look away and let you work it out on your own.  Now this isn’t to say that they won’t discuss it with the person sitting next to them…but you definitely don’t have to worry about them talking to you about it.

Then there is the First Church of the Hypocrites.  This church is one that has really gained popularity and exposure over the last twenty years.  At least 75% of people who are disenfranchised with God have been members of this church.  At the First Church of the Hypocrites, you will find many of the same people at both church functions and in the bars on the weekend.  You may work with a few of the members of this church…they are often the ones who use bad language, lie, gossip, and even steal from their employers.  This church also sometimes has members who are sleeping with each other‘s spouses, preaching and teaching against sin, only to be doing the same things in the privacy of their own home, and usually can be found angrily pointing fingers and harshly condemning people without showing love or compassion.

Lastly, and perhaps the most common and most dangerous of them all, there is the Zombie Church (aka the dead church).  This is where people who are half asleep physically and spiritually stumble through the doors every Sunday, sit in the pews and listen to (or sleep through) the obligatory sermon.  Here you may sing some songs and pray some prayers but you are not required to actually mean or feel the words that are coming out of your mouth.  People here have lots of knowledge but little passion.  Members typically don’t see each other outside the walls of the church building unless it’s for a quarterly potluck, wedding, or funeral, so most of your problems and spiritual struggles will need to be handled independently.  Often, people here attend the same church their whole life completely unaware that there is more to the Christian life than checking off a spiritual to-do list every week.

Do you identify with one of these churches?  All three of them?  I do.  At some point in my life I have been part of all of them.  I felt like I didn’t measure up to people.  I felt like I was the only one who had struggles with sin.  I felt like everyone around me was fake.  And because of these issues, I decided to leave the church altogether.

What I soon discovered though was that my problems had gotten worse, not better.  And it wasn’t because I chose to not identify myself with one particular church - it was because in reality I hadn’t left a church.  I had left God.  In my haste to point fingers at the people around me and take note of their hypocrisy, I had neglected to look in the mirror and see my own.

If you had cancer that required chemotherapy but didn’t like the people at the treatment center, would you stop getting chemo?  What if you didn’t like the level of education that your children were receiving in school or didn‘t get along well with his or her teacher?  Would you tell your kids that they don’t need education, just stay home?  Or what if you were a soldier in battle and found out that the guy next to you struggled with an addiction?  Would you stop fighting with that person and leave the protection of your platoon?  I don’t think any of us would do any of those things.  So why do we do it with God?

The church is a perfect group of imperfect people.  Imperfect people are going to hurt us and we are going to hurt others.  Imperfect people are going to sin.  Imperfect people are going to go through periods of time when we just “aren’t feeling it”.  But we haven’t been converted to a life that is supposed to honor and reflect other people…we have been called to a life that is supposed to honor and reflect Jesus.  And he was and is perfect.  If we choose to follow HIM instead of basing our decisions on the imperfect people around us, a lot of the discouragement and disgust that we feel with others will seem less important.

Right now I am blessed to be a part of a church that is truly a spiritual family.  We don’t just see each other on Sunday and Tuesday - we live our lives together.  We eat together, we work together, our kids are growing up together, we study, pray, cry, and laugh together.  But we are not (and will never be) perfect.  We have people who lie.  We have people who gossip.  We have people who are in prison and have just gotten out of prison.  We have people who are just there because they have to be.  We have people who are faking it.  But we also have a ton of people who are honest, loving, open about who and what they are, and most importantly, are looking to serve God and help others do the same.  We are just a group of sinners who have been given a gift of forgiveness.

I’m not saying you are wrong for being discouraged.  Just use that discouragement to spark you TOWARDS God, not away from Him.  If you do that, He will lead you to a group of people who can help you in that journey.

Shed your spiritual weight!


"When Jesus heard this, he told them, "Healthy people don't need a doctor--sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners." Mark 2:17

If you were in my kitchen right now, you would see a very large and un-decorative easel sized flip chart hanging on my wall.  My husband and I are both tracking our daily calories, water consumption, and exercise on it.  It was his idea.

The whole family has been taking walks every day.  My husband sets the stopwatch on his phone, puts the 6 month old in the baby pouch while I remind the seven year old to watch where he is swinging his Gandalf walking staff (aka - a big stick he found in the woods) and then we take off for thirty minutes through the neighborhood.  This was also my husband’s idea.

Yesterday was a day full of opportunity.  Opportunity to not eat well.  After church in the morning we went out to eat with my parents and all of my brothers and sisters.  Left there and went to a graduation party, went to a church service inside a local prison in the evening and followed it up with a group of people going to get burritos that night.  Through all of that, I managed to stay at my daily calorie goal (well, about 20 over, but still good in my book).  All day I was around people who knew I was trying to lose weight…otherwise it would have been easy for me to cheat and sneak an extra cupcake or three.

Surrounding myself with people who are aware of what I’m trying to accomplish makes it much more difficult to cheat.

This is true with everything though.  Accountability and support are two of the biggest factors in determining success when it comes to addictions of any sort.  When we hide what it is that we are struggling with, it is so much easier to give in when faced with temptation.  And the odds of you falling off the wagon are going to increase even more if you surround yourself with people who are actively involved in the behavior you are trying to stop.

I know who to call if I want to go out for pizza.  They aren’t going to remind me of the fact that one slice of pizza has 350 calories.  Honestly, I know people who cold support all sorts of bad habits.  I know who I’d call if I wanted to gossip, if wanted to get drunk, if I wanted to buy some drugs, and while it’s scary to think about, I think I even know who I could call if I wanted to cheat on my husband.  God forbid that I fall into these temptations anytime soon - but I would be foolish to think that I could surround myself with these people and stay strong indefinitely, wouldn’t I?

My husband works in a prison.  When people get out and go back to the same friends that they had before, the chances of them returning to prison again or falling into addiction again is over 70%.  When they start new and get friends around them who hold them accountable, it is less than 40%.  

It’s not just common sense - it’s Biblical.  “Evil companions corrupt good morals” is a Bible verse that we learn when we are children.

I’m not saying that someone who wants to have pizza with me is evil…but the principle is true.   If I am looking to stay away from a certain type of behavior - no matter what it may be, I shouldn’t be surprised over my failures when I have been surrounding myself with people who aren’t helping me succeed.

“Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.” 1 Corinthians 15:33

The Real Age Diet, The South Beach Diet, Eat Right For Your Blood Type, The Dr. Atkins Diet Revolution, The Ultimate Weight Loss Solution, The Mediterranean Diet, The Omni Diet, Eat This Not That, The Biggest Loser - 30 Day Challenge…I could keep going but I’m sure you catch my drift.  There are a ton of diet books out there, there is a ton of information to be digested, and a ton of differing opinions on what is good for you and what is not.  For those of us who are always on the lookout for that one bit of information that we need to suddenly make the process of losing weight easier, books like those always manage to suck us in.  Maybe this whole time, I have not had success because  I am a type O+ blood type and I’ve been eating like an AB-.  Eureka!

Dr. Atkins says you can eat all the meat, eggs, and cheese you want to lose weight.  The Green Diet says meat is bad, bad, bad.  In South Beach, sugar (even from fruit) is a no-no.  In the Provincial Diet, fresh fruits are a must.  Again…you catch my drift.

So what’s a girl (or boy) to do?  All of the books can’t be right, can they? 

Lucky for me, I know of a book that has been around for thousands of years, has been thoroughly vetted and tested, and has earned the distinction of being the only book that can hold the claim to being 100% correct 100% of the time.  And here is what it says:

Eat until you’re satisfied and then stop.
“Now Boaz said to her at mealtime, “Come here, and eat of the bread, and dip your piece of bread in the vinegar.” So she sat beside the reapers, and he passed parched grain to her; and she ate and was satisfied, and kept some back.” Ruth 2:14

Exercise to make your body work right.
“I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should.” 1 Corinthians 9:27

After working hard, take time to rest.
“And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy, because it was the day when he rested from all his work of creation.” Genesis 2:3

Keep a positive mindset.
“Finally, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Philippians 4:8

I think Mark Twain summed it up best over a hundred years ago:  

“Be careful about reading health books.  You may die of a misprint.”