You Better Work

Remember back in middle school when just about every guy wanted to be a pro athlete? I'm sure there were a lot of girls who did, too, but the memory sticks out more vividly for the boys for me (middle school is also a much more distant memory for some of us).

How many pro athletes do you know now? Maybe one person you sorta kinda remember from school because you had that class together once? Why is that? If just about every boy wanted to be one, why aren't there more.

I'm sure there are countless reasons, but I'm confident many realized this: it's gonna take too much work.

The amount of drive and determination it takes to get to the professional level of any sport is commendable, but rare.

This week, a couple friends and I are headed to Minnesota for the Ezer Collective, a leadership intensive for Christian women led by speaker and author Jo Saxton. She and her business partner, Pastor Steph O'Brien, also have a podcast called Lead Stories. Today, they posted an interview with literary agent and writing coach Rachelle Gardner regarding the intricacies of becoming an author.

This is my calling! I was STOKED!

However, about 3 minutes into the podcast, I felt a familiar anxiety start to rise in my gut, and it usually precedes a powerful bout of insecurity, doubt, and fear. I'm starting to learn my lesson though, because before those nasty voices could even open their mouths, I called out to God to let me hear only what He would have me hear and to help me process it in a way that only furthers His purposes. 

And OH, did He ever deliver.

As I listened to the almost hour-long podcast, one overall theme really struck me: this "calling" of mine is gonna take a whole lot of flipping work. It will require every bit of the focus, drive, and determination of an aspiring pro athlete.

It's not like this is news to me exactly. I'm completely aware that I'll have to do a significant amount of work, but somehow, it always seems like the bulk of the work consists of some vague tasks in the distant future. That, my friends, is how aspiring authors and athletes remain "aspiring" instead of "professional." No one is paying you for work you might do in the future. 

The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing,

while the soul of the diligent is richly supplies.

Proverbs 13:4

Have you ever asked your kids to do something, and, instead of obeying, they continue whatever mindless thing they're doing? When that happens, I might wait a little bit, but at some point, I look at them and say, "Dude. Get it together. I asked you to do something."

Today, when I listened to that podcast, God gently whispered into my heart, "Alissa, it's time to act. It's time to work. Rise up, child. I asked you to do something." (Please note that God is ever so much gentler and kinder to me than I am to my kids...because He's God. We're working on it).

So, as the time for this training draws near, I go into it knowing full well I have a lot of hard work ahead of me, not sometime in the distant future, but in the here and now. It should sound scary, but one thought gives me a lot of comfort: the Law of Marginal Gains.

My friend John-Erik Moseler often talks about this in his coaching. Basically, it's a concept that touts the profitability of very small changes CONSISTENTLY over time and was used by Sir David Brailsford in his training of the British Olympic Cycling team. With it, he was able to transform a program that had only won one gold medal in over 75 years to one that won seven out of ten medals in Beijing in 2008...and he did it in only six years, and all with 1% changes over time.

My point is that no one becomes Michael Jordan overnight. Michael Jordan certainly didn't. He practiced and practiced and practiced for YEARS to become the legend He is today, improving ever so gradually with each failed shot, each brick to the basket, each layup that landed just a bit too shy.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if God has a future mapped out for me, then He will give me everything I need to achieve it...including the will to WORK. 

Commit your work to the Lord,

and your plans will be established.

Proverbs 16:3

And let us not grow weary of doing good

for in due season we will reap,

if we do not give up.

Galatians 6:9

*Source: https://hbr.org/2015/10/how-1-performance-improvements-led-to-olympic-gold

A Winning Wardrobe

I had it all planned out.

Don't most humbling, slap-you-in-the-face moments start that way?

A few nights ago, I lay in bed thinking about exactly which outfits I would wear for the 5 days I'm going to be in Minnesota for the Ezer Collective. I was bubbling over with excitement.

A few weeks ago, I picked up a couple adorable clothing items from a second hand store. I tried them on briefly at home to make sure they fit, and Josiah seemed to think they were okay, so I thought they would fit fabulously into my trip wardrobe. (I tried them on for Josiah because we don't own a full-length mirror; if I ever look jacked up from the shoulders down, you now know why).

One was a plaid, tweed jacket that would look sophisticated and fun with skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. The other was a gorgeous, sheer red blouse (with the tags still on it) with slightly puffy sleeves and a ruffled collar. You just really can't GET more "me" than that.

The sheer blouse had a cami that came underneath it, but the thing was super short. When I tried it on the first time I looked like the female version of Winne the Pooh - NOT a flattering look. After purchasing a replacement cami yesterday, I came home and flew to the room to try it on.

The new cami felt just a little too long for the blouse, so I had Josiah take a picture to show me. It was TOO SMALL. The blouse I just adored felt comfortable but was far too snug, so not only was it a little short for the cami, but the last button pulled around my hips and accentuated my rolls.

NOOOOOOO!

"That's okay, though, right?" I thought. "Because that tweed jacket is going to be AWESOME!"

However, once I put it on again, I quickly noticed something that had completely escaped my attention the first time: that sucker had shoulder pads.

I don't know if you know this, but anything with shoulder pads makes a broad-shouldered girl look like the shortest linebacker in the NFL. It's not a good look.

Knowing we don't really have the funds for me to go shopping for new clothes right now, I fell to pieces. With the board for my "She is clothed in strength and dignity" sign slung haphazardly across the tops of my closet's louver doors (you can read more about that here), I stared into my closet seething, angry, and shattered, feeling clothed in very little strength and not a shred of dignity. Instead, I was clothed in a lot of sadness and boatloads of disappointment. I wailed about how I didn't have anything nice to wear and that I guess I'd just wear my "stupid, ''mom clothes."

Yes, you read that right. With people just hours south of here mourning the loss of everything they own due to Hurricane Michael, I mourned the loss of two items of clothing, which technically fit, but looked hideous. Not my finest moment.

As the hot tears slid down my face, leaving salty trails in my makeup, even I was surprised at the depth of emotion I felt over this seemingly insignificant event. "Why does this hurt so much?" I asked myself. "Why am I so devastated?"

And then, like Jack and Jill on their return voyage down the hill, the fears and insecurities tumbled out of me. They were numerous, but it all boiled down to this: I am afraid of being overlooked or disregarded because I'm old and fat.

I was super excited about the chic and fun outfits because I felt like they really represented me well...and because I feel like I need to do and be so much more to compensate for the fact that I'm truthfully "just" an overweight mom with seven kids. Even now, that makes my eyes sting with tears.

Unfortunately, there's actually some truth there, but it's mixed up with lies - Cocoa Pebbles in a bowl of sour milk.

If two women, one bigger and one smaller, put on the exact same outfit, nine times out of ten, the thinner woman would be taken more seriously, considered more attractive, hired for the job, etc. In many ways in our society, being bigger puts you at a disadvantage. That's the cold, hard truth.

The sour milk in the bowl, though, is the idea that I need these people's approval in order to fulfill my God-given calling. After a fitful night of sleep (or NOT sleep), I rose far before daylight and headed out to the beach to get my bearings. I knew there was truth I was missing, but I needed to be away from everyone with my God to figure it out.

There, in my van, in the dark hour just before dawn, I cried out to God and heard back, "Is anything impossible for the Lord?" I knew it was from the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac, but I googled it to find its exact location (Genesis 18:14) . I didn't expect it to come up in three more places.

Oh Lord God!

You yourself made the

heavens and the earth

by Your great power and

with Your outstretched arm.

Nothing is too difficult for You!

Jeremiah 32:17

Look I am Yahweh,

the God of all flesh.

Is anything too difficult for Me?

Jeremiah 32:27

[Jesus] replied, 

"What is impossible with men

is possible with God."

Luke 18:27

And with those, this one popped into my head:

Now to Him who is able

to do above and beyond

all that we ask or think

according to the power that works in us,

to Him be the glory

in the church and in Christ Jesus

to all generations,

forever and ever.

Ephesians 3:20

My God can do more than I can even begin to imagine in order to fulfill His purposes for me.

• Sarah laughed when she was told she would bear a child because she knew she was too old. God gave her a child, Isaac.
• David was a shepherd boy no one thought anything of, not even enough to bring him in from the field while Samuel looked over Jesse's sons to see which would be king. God made him king.
• Elizabeth was too old to bear children and everyone thought she was barren. God gave her John, he who would pave the way for the Messiah.
• 
  

In each of these cases, God made his perfect plans work through imperfect, unlikely people. Why? To bring Him more glory because only HE could do those impossible things.

God asked Gideon to defeat the Midianites, who were oppressing His people. So, Gideon took 32,000 men with him to defeat the armies of Midian, a force that would probably have numbered in excess of 100,000. But the odds weren't stacked enough for God.

The Lord said to Gideon,

"You have too many people for Me

to hand the Midianites over to you,

or else Israel might brag:

'I did it myself.'"

Judges 7:2

Therefore, God made sure the Israelites knew no one but HE could have accomplished the victory by sending Gideon with just 300 men...and they defeated them not with swords, spears, and arrows, but with torches, trumpets, and terracotta pots - a truly divine upheaval.

Here's the thing: if I'm meant to connect with any of the women attending this thing in a way that will impact my future and God's purpose, then it won't matter if I'm wearing a burlap sac and Birks. 

It is not my wardrobe that will bring me through to my calling. It is not my gifts, talents, or bubbly personality. It is nothing other that the power of the living God working in and through me and my circumstances.

He gave me those tools, yes, but without Him, they still aren't enough to fulfill a God-sized purpose.

God will do what He wants, when He wants, through whom He wants, and if I'm willing to walk in obedience, there's nothing that's going to keep me from the calling He has put on my life.

So, I'm heading to Minnesota in just over a week clothed in strength, dignity, and outfits I already own. I won't be clothed in what I've planned, but now that the fears and insecurities have been dealt with, I can go clothed in what I should have been thinking of all along: the love of my Heavenly Father, the strength that comes from knowing His great power, the power given to me in Christ Jesus, and the authority I have been given as the daughter of the One, True King. THAT, my friends, is a winning wardrobe!

Now, get thee behind me, Satan, and observe this outfit from the back. I've got work to do.

When Ish Gets Heavy

Last week, our family decided it might be a lot of fun to pack a lunch and have a picnic at Buckroe Beach. The new pier has a large picnic shelter, and it's a pretty awesome space.

So, even though babies hadn't had naps, I hadn't showered, and the day just was not going well, we packed like 8 trillion peanut butter and banana sandwiches, chips, apples, and some bottled waters and loaded up the van.

When we arrived, each older kid grabbed a younger sibling, and headed across the field. Since Josiah's back has not been 100% lately, he pushed the youngest in the stroller, and I carried all the food.

To get to the picnic area on the pier, you have to cross a pretty decent sized field, and then, of course, walk the length of the pier itself. It's not a long walk, though, so initially I didn't bat an eye. I just slung the picnic bag across my body, grabbed the bag of bottled waters in one hand and another bag of random goodies in the other.

At first, it felt kind of nice to be carrying all that stuff. Sometimes, when I do things like that, I get an secret sense of pride that my body is capable of carrying heavy loads. It's like it wakes up my inner badass (yes, I said "badass." I couldn't think of another word that carried the same sentiment). I started across the field, back straight, with long, proud strides, rejecting any help offered by the kids. I got this.

Halfway across the field, though, the weight of the strap started to dig in to my shoulder and holding the bags away from my legs made my shoulders and forearms burn. What was an easy load at the outset was getting heavier with every step, and a quick jaunt across a field started to feel like crossing the state.

In that moment, I felt like I heard God say, "This is what it's like to follow My purpose for you carrying baggage you're not supposed to have."

A while back, there was a part of me that I'd come to recognize as extra baggage that I wasn't supposed to be carrying, but it had been with me my whole life. I considered it just "part of who I am." It was damaging, but comfortable, well-worn, and mine.

But when I asked a friend at church to pray for me and told her how I felt, that I just didn't want to let go, she looked at me and said, "Okay, now the next time you go to the gym and get on the treadmill, I want you to strap a ton of chains to your body, and then let's see how you do."

Wise words. (You can read that blog post here).

Here's the catch, like the stuff I was carrying across the field that day, there are some things you're just going to have to carry in life. It's going to get heavy and hard, and you're just going to have to push through, even if you have to stop and rest every now and then to get there. (Or do what I did and go even faster)

But that's all stuff I KNEW I was carrying. This invisible baggage we carry with us has often been handed to us through station or circumstance, and we've carried it so long we don't know it's baggage. Life feels heavy and we trudge through, weighted down, but we can't figure out why or by what. All we know is that it hurts and burns, and we want to go on, but we're Just. So. Tired.

And sometimes, we've identified exactly what needs to be put down, tossed aside, or thrown away, but it just doesn't seem possible. The pain has become part of us. To cast it aside now would be to cast part of ourselves aside, leaving a piece of us behind.

And then again, some of us lay it down, just to pick it back up again. We cast off the chains, claiming fullness and freedom, but pick them right back up again, through coping or custom.

In my life, I can identify the latter two; the former will come with time. Praise God, He accepts us where we are, but won't leave us where He found us. 

My weights are often my "shoulds" (the expectations I or others have put on me that have no business being there), my "ams" (harmful and negative parts of my identity I've long adopted as who I am, but that have no place in my future), and my "am nots" (limits I've placed on myself our of fear and insecurity that don't belong there).

I have been walking with these things for as long as I can remember, letting them slow me down or just gritting my teeth and bearing the pain. But the longer I walk, the heavier they get, and there comes a time when you have to choose: fetters or future, destined or defeated.

The answer is so clear.

Friend, whatever is holding you back and weighing you down, keeping you from the purpose God has for you, I pray you would LAY IT DOWN. Don't wait until tomorrow or Monday or "things get better." Seek God's face and let it go.

Fighting "Feel Good" Faith

I'm looking at my closet right now: dresses shoved on one side, shirts and jackets on the other, some hangers dangling and askew. But mostly, I was looking at the big, blank stretch of wall just above it.

A while back, I had the idea to make a LARGE sign for that spot that says, "She is clothed in strength and dignity." You know...so when I'm standing in front of my closet in my underwear crying because I have nothing to wear, I'll remember the important things to be clothed in.

At least that's the idea. I may still cry.

However, it also made me think of something else: am I really? Am I really clothed in strength and dignity?

I know there are a lot of y'all ready to hop to my defense, but hear me out on this. It might be my new soapbox.

In his letters in the Bible, Paul wrote often to warn his readers about the dangers of inaccurate theology. He wanted them to know how to sniff out a fake. At the time, much of this was centered around circumcision and "the law." These days, we call it legalism.

However, in our modern-day churches, though some are RIFE with legalism, I believe one issue has begun to outpace it. Indeed, this may be even more dangerous: Feel Good Faith.

I see it everywhere I look these days. I hear:

"God says I am enough."
"God says I am perfect just the way I am."
"God says I am strong.
"God says I can accomplish anything."

The problem with those statements? They are false. God doesn't say those things. As a matter of fact, those things are completely counter to the gospel of Jesus Christ because if we were enough, perfect just the way we are, etc. we would not have needed salvation.

But we did. We do.

In every situation in the Bible, if someone needed strength or courage, God did not say, "Go get 'em, Tiger. I know you can do it." He said, "Stand back, son, and watch how I do this THROUGH you."

Have I not commanded you?

Be strong and courageous.

Do not be afraid,

do not be discouraged,

for the Lord your God will be

with you wherever you go.

Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

He didn't say, "You got this!" He said, "Trust me; I got this." The distinction is subtle but vital.

Joseph did not save millions from famine. God saved millions through Joseph.
Moses did not part the Red Sea. God parted the sea through Moses.
David did not slay Goliath. God slayed Goliath through David.

In these cases, and all the others in the Bible, it isn't the individuals ability that comes to the rescue, it's their faith in the God who saves.

Even the name Jesus means, "God is salvation."

"But what's the harm?" you might ask? "Why is it an issue if people want to say that? We know what they mean, and it makes them feel good. It empowers them!"

Unfortunately, it may feel good, but it's building your house on the sand. Time and again, I see people who say these things fall prey to their own philosophies. Life is hard. Spiritual attack is hard.

I keep watching as the people espousing these philosophies come to remarkably difficult junctures in their lives, and instead of leaning on the ONE who can give them the strength and courage they need to follow God into the dark places, leaning and depending upon Him, they lean heavily on their own understanding, thinking God would never want them to be unhappy or uncomfortable.

They make decisions, not based on scripture, but on what feels good because, after all, that's what gets them through. They trade the worship of God for worship of themselves, and their homes and lives fall like a house of cards. Only houses built on the rock can withstand the wind and waves.

It's sad and tragic and, honestly, just really bad theology.

So, when I look at my blank wall, thinking about the "clothed in strength and dignity" sign, I wonder if I actually am. The answer? If I have chosen to be.

When you read about the Proverbs 31 wife (which is who the quote refers to), there's a pretty formidable woman there. But why? Why is she so amazing? Because she walks through each day with God by her side.

• She works hard because she works to please the Lord.
• She makes good decisions because she trusts the wisdom of God.
• She gives unselfishly because she mirrors the God who gives.
• She is clothed in strength and dignity with no fear of the future because she knows whose hands its in...and it isn't hers.

Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting,

but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised.

Proverbs 31: 30

To be frank, I don't know if that's who I am every day...probably not if I'm crying about not having any clothes in front of a loaded closet. I'm super glad I don't have to earn my salvation because if I did, I'd probably have a one-way ticket to Hell.

But I know it's who I aspire to be. It's who, thanks to the Holy Spirit, I look more like as time goes on. But I also know it's not me on my own.

I know I'm really excited to make the sign, not because of who I am, but of who God is, and He is calling me to be a woman fully dependent upon Him, every moment of every day. That's a theology I'm willing to stand on. 

Breaking Free

*sigh* I really don't know what to say here, except some seasons just beat you up.

There's a scene toward the beginning of Moana where she tries to take a boat out into the water for the first time. She's doing okay until a wave capsizes her and shoves her under. With her ankle stuck fast in coral, wave after wave plows into her until, finally, she grabs a rock, smashes the coral, and breaks free.

That's this season for me. In one particular area of my life, it feels like I keep climbing back into the boat, and time and again, waves hurl me into the sea. I've been caught by the coral so often that my entire being is bloodied and bruised, and my water-logged lungs ache for air.

And yet, I climb back on the boat. That's all that can be done, really. Sometimes, there's just no going back to the shore.

I thought about this as I jogged yesterday. I prayed and thought...and prayed some more.

Yesterday was a interesting day for me. The first couple weeks of the Couch to 5K program you only run for 60-90 seconds at a time. But yesterday was supposed to be the first day of week 3, which contains a couple 3 minutes runs.

I almost skipped it and when back to the week before. No shame in that right? A jog is a jog.

But something about it felt like cheating, and let's be honest, you never know what you can do until you try. Thus, week three, day one commenced.

The first 3 minute block was LONG. I didn't know 3 minutes could last that long. I got through, though, by praying and refusing to look at how long I'd gone.

But then the second 3 minute block came. This time, it was it was hard. MUCH HARDER. The only thing that got me through that time was the scene in the movie "Facing the Giants," when the coach has the kid crawl from one end of the field to the other blindfolded with another kid on his back. He just keeps saying, "You promised to give it your best! I know it hurts! But you've got more in you!" (Or something like that)

I felt like God was saying that: "With my help, you can do this. I know it hurts, but you have My strength in you. Give it all you've got. I'm here." 

And I got through. I mean...it hurt some, and I'm not entirely sure I was breathing by the end, but it got done. Then, I was home free! All the jogs were done, and I was down to a 3 minute walk, followed by a 5 minute cool down. 

However, once I recovered my breath, I felt God telling me He wanted me to jog again. He and I then had a little chat.

"I don't want to run anymore, though, God. I've done what I said I would do!"

But he whispered, "But with Me, you can do so much more than you can even ask or imagine. Run again."

"Fine," I grumbled. "I'll run from this car to that one down there, but that's it."

The second I started to run, the app told me I had a minute left of my workout before the cool down started...and as soon as I passed the second car, the app told my my workout was complete.

I cried tears of joy then...and even now. I hear you, God: with You, all things are possible. Sometimes you calm the storm, and sometimes, you just give us the strength to get through it. I know even when I feel like I can't go on, in you, there's hope.

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.

They will soar high on wings like eagles.

They will run and not grow weary.

They will walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31

I wish I could say my hard season was over. In fact, even now I feel the waves crashing over me as I grope the seabed for something to break myself free. 

However, God has reminded me that no matter how long this lasts - a month, two months, or ten years - He is always with me, and one day, I'll break free from the waves that threaten to tear me to pieces. But to do that, I just have to keep getting back in the boat.

Running Behind

"There he goes," I sighed to myself, as my husband's figure moved further and further away. "The distance between us just continues to grow."

No, Josiah isn't leaving, and I'm not writing a soap opera. I just can't keep up with him when we run.

I'm training for this 5K (although we have yet to actually choose one), and on Josiah's last day off, I asked him if he would run with me. The man hates cardio, but he loves me a lot, so he agreed.

It's been a while since we worked out together, however, and I forgot how much faster he is. At 6'5", he's a foot and a couple inches taller than I am, and I'm convinced at least 75% of the difference is in the length of our legs. 

Normally, I look like a Chihuahua, trying to keep up with a Great Dane, but because he was being really considerate, in this case, he looked more like a kangaroo - just bobbing up and down next to me. Of course, I told him to go ahead and run. We'd come back together during the walking stretches, but I had to let him actually stretch his legs.

As the space grew between us, for a brief minute, I started to get sad and put myself down. "He never does cardio, and he's legit kicking my butt. Why do I bother?"

Then, the Holy Spirit checked me. He said, "Run your race." 

Here's the thing, ya'll, God did not make me a 6'5" man with the legs of Michaelangelo's "David." He made me a 5'3" mother of seven with a propensity toward weight gain. I was not made to run as fast as Josiah. I was not made to run faster than most people.

But I have a race to run that's all my own.

We need people with us on our journeys toward our goals, but while we're traveling together, never forget for one second that we each have our own races to run - races God designed us for, and paying too much attention to where someone else is in their race compared to you will only distract you from running yours well.

So, I let Josiah run. I smiled when he turned around to check in on me, cheered him on from behind, and if I'm honest, allowed myself to enjoy the view. Then, when we walked, I'd catch up. In the end, our workouts looked different, but we finished together and our bodies, minds, and spirits were the better for it.

I doesn't matter who's ahead on the journey; it just matters that you're traveling with people you love. 

Slow Down and Finish Well

Recently, a friend of mine told me she wanted to run a 5K, and she asked me to hold her accountable. I'm all about a bandwagon, so I said, "Hey! Better than that, we'll do it together."

Just to let ya'll know, I have been avoiding anything that even looks like running for quite some time. I tell myself it's because it's too much pressure on my joints, but really it's just because I'm scared of the massive jiggle wave that would ensue...and that I might fall on my face. 

Look, I'm not trying to be "body negative" or anything, but if you've ever actually TRIED to run when you're overweight, you know what I mean. You have body parts that are on a full 5 second delay.

But I decided to download the Couch to 5K app, don my worn out compression tank, and get my butt out there anyway.

The first day I planned to run, I was TERRIFIED. What if I can't do it, I thought? What if I get out there and look ridiculous and can't even finish half of the first day? What if the whole neighborhood is laughing at me? What if I pass out?

Those first few running steps felt like chains falling off. 

I can do this, I thought. I'm not going to die! 

However, right around the halfway mark in the program, ish got real. I started to have to hardcore talk/pray myself through each 60 second run.

Dear God, it's only 60 seconds. Please help me not pass out. Please help me not to vomit. Please help me not to pass out in my own vomit. 

And then I also had to pray myself through my walks. "Please, God, help me catch my breath. My breath feels so far away."

I had to cut a couple of the running segments a few seconds short, and the final run by about half, but I made it through the 30 minute workout without dying, puking, or peeing myself so I thought it was a pretty strong win.

When I tried to roll over the next morning, my whole body rebelled. I thought I was just going to have to parent from bed all day.

Nevertheless, I found the strength to make it out of bed, and anyone who has ever worked out knows you HAVE to move when you're sore. The best way to treat soreness is to MOVE.

So, even though I was so sore I felt like I couldn't put one foot in front of the other, once again, my feet hit the pavement. I was still really worried about falling on my face, though.

When the running segment came, I was able to do it, but I was sluggish. I felt like my whole body was a full second behind my brain's commands.

But something very interesting happened as a result of my body's sluggishness: I was able to actually keep up.

Instead of huffing, puffing, and panting, I was able to focus on breathing through my runs. Instead of frantically trying to catch my breath in between, I was able to recover well and enjoy the view. Instead of praying to God he'd help me not vomit and die, I was able to pray and thank Him for helping me through - even at the end of my workout, on the long stretch before my house where there's no shade, and the heat of the sun beats down on me.

I ended the run on the second day feeling amazing, and I didn't cut ANY segments short. I didn't just finish, I finished well - and all because I had the courage to get back out there and take it slow.

Sometimes, we just want to get there, so we try to go as fast as possible. But that's just not sustainable. We run out of steam, we take shortcuts, and we finish, but it leaves us feeling depleted and sick.

Today, choose to go slow. Fully embrace each moment. Focus on breathing and praying. Run slowly and well, then make sure to take time to recover in between. You won't need to take the shortcuts, and at the end, you'll feel energized instead of depleted.

Friends, my prayer for you today is that you would finish the race set before you, not just falling across the finish line, but finishing your race well. 

Talk to you all later. I've gotta run. 

Fit, Fat, and the Temple of the Living God

This morning I walked through a weekly ritual. I locked the bedroom door, took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped onto the bathroom scale.

The number on the scale was right around the same as it has been. No change.

Then, with another deep breath, I went to my dresser and got out my tape measure. I wrapped it around my body in all the different places. With each new wrap I noted the numbers, right around the same as they have been. No change.

I've been doing this dance for more than a month at this stretch, but in reality, it's been a lifelong endeavor - the effort to make this body of mine change into something I can more fully appreciate.

For the last month or so, I have watched my calories carefully, been drinking more water (although still not the gallon I should be drinking every day), and committed myself to being more active.

I tried going low carb/carb cycling, with disastrous results. It didn't make me lose weight, but it did make me an emotional and psychological train wreck. Not everything is for everybody, apparently.

However, carb cycling or no, physical laws dictate that a calorie deficit over a prolonged period of time should lead to weight loss.

Apparently, I'm a law breaker.

Also, for the last 3 years, I've been taking supplements that, typically, aid people in weight management (if that's what their bodies need). They've changed my entire life, helping me through two pregnancies, and giving me back energy and great sleep when I thought I'd never feel great again. But unlike others, I haven't lost weight.

Recently, because of all this difficulty, I started to look into weight loss surgery. I mean, the weight HAS to come off somehow right? The temple of God, the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, can't STAY fat, can it? I can't just stay this way forever...right?

But wait. Why not? What is truly at the heart of my desperation to lose weight and be thinner?

Other people's opinions. 

My "target audience" may have changed some over the years, but it doesn't really change the fact that I'm worried about how my body looks because of how I might be perceived. Now, as I sit on the cusp of some sort of ministry, I fear how those listening will think about my witness.

Will they ignore my words because they think I'm a hypocrite? As I speak about identity, calling, and purpose, will my message get lost because, to the world, my body screams louder "gluttony" and "sloth"?

Maybe, but those are really the wrong questions. They're firmly rooted in pride and selfishness. What if we change it up a bit?

What if, instead, the question is, "If I'm doing everything reasonable to take care of my body, and it still looks this way, is there a possibility God wants it to look this way?"

It almost sounds like an impossibility, given the aversion to fat in our society. Weight loss is practically synonymous with piety, and there are entire ministries (even churches) devoted to the practice.

I'm not knocking those things. Some of them are amazing, Biblically-focused ministries that help people regain a healthy perspective on food and their bodies. I think they're great, but I also think one very important component is missing from the discussion: my body is holy, just the way it is.

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters,

in view of God's mercy,

to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,

holy and pleasing to God-

this is your true and proper worship.

Romans 12:1

I used to read that verse and feel pressure and shame, thinking, in order for my body to be a holy and pleasing sacrifice, it needed to look different; or at least, I needed to be moving in the right direction. It felt like the Holy Spirit had to just be ACHING to live in a body that was thinner and more pleasing to God.

But y'all, that is just crap theology, and let me tell you why.

Before I was saved by the blood of Christ, there was nothing in the world I could do, no matter how "good" I was (or how good I looked) to make my body "holy and pleasing to God." Apart from God, none of it is good enough.

But, as soon as I recognized sacrifice of Christ in my life, my body became holy and pleasing. I was washed clean, and nothing can change that.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ,

he is a new creation.

The old has passed away;

behold, the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

I'm doing what I can to be healthy, but even if I wasn't, even if I was stewarding my body poorly, that would be sad, and God might work through the Holy Spirit to convict me and change my path, but my body would still be holy and pleasing to Him because it's covered by the blood of Christ. 

And that is precisely why I present my body as a sacrifice, because He has saved me and made me pure, no matter what. His great forgiveness, grace, and mercy inspire me to make changes because He has made me clean when no amount of my own behavior could do it.

Furthermore, there is no place in the Bible that says God prefers one body type over another. What it DOES say, however, is that God doesn't look at physical appearance, but at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). He says that I have been remarkably and distinctly made, knit together in my mother's womb, that He sees me, knows me, and loves me (which is a whole conglomeration of verses - if you want references, let me know). 

Maybe, just maybe, my body looks just like it should at this moment in time, in His timing and for His purposes. Maybe, "All things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28) REALLY means "all things" and my appearance is part of that.

Maybe, just maybe, I can look just like I do, and still be walking in God's will, or even, actively fulfilling a purpose in it.

Maybe, if I finally learn to accept my body in this moment, just as it is, God can use me to inspire someone else to see themselves as God sees them - as fully known, seen, and loved. Then maybe, just maybe, they can inspire someone else, too.

And those "maybes" are enough for me.

Plot Twist

What is it about your favorite book or story that makes it your favorite? Seriously. Think about it. I'll wait. *insert Jeopardy music here*

My friend John-Erik Moseler often says, "Just remember, all your favorite stories have plot twists," and he's right. Our favorite stories ARE our favorites because good triumphs over evil, the hero prevails, or the couple overcomes insurmountable obstacles. 

What we often fail to comprehend is that it's the very presence of evil, enemies, and obstacles that brings life to those stories, and that otherwise, they wouldn't be very interesting at all.

A good pot of beans is bland and, honestly, pretty gross without some meat, salt, and pepper (at the very least) to flavor it. But once, my hand slipped and I added FAR too much pepper. It made the entire pot completely inedible. 

Plot twists add flavor to our lives, but we also often have the ability to control whether we allow them to season our days well or make them completely "inedible."

 The last few days, I've experienced a plot twist of sorts - not one of the ginormous tragic ones, but instead, one that just seems to shift everything. Words are said, truths and feelings are revealed, and suddenly you find yourself at a crossroads of sorts.

For those of you who don't know me well or haven't known me long, I'm a fighter. I don't mean that in the positive sense, either. Words are my gift, but that also means I can spew venom and spit fire in the worst of ways when I feel backed into a corner.

But I'm also a work in progress - a new creation in Christ Jesus, becoming more like Him every day. So this time, I handled my plot twist in a different way. I went to church, spoke to a mentor, and most importantly, sought out time alone with God.

I drove to Fort Monroe yesterday, thinking I was going to seek God on the beach. I parked gathered my things and began to walk towards sand and waves, but it just didn't feel right. I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, turned in a couple circles, ad decided to go back to the car. I didn't know where God wanted me to go, but I knew it wasn't there.

I followed God's leading to another beach parking lot, but instead of going towards the beach, I walked in the other direction, under the shade of a tree, watching the slow, quiet waters of the fort "moat." And there, I prayed and studied God's word.

And He met me there, powerfully.

He reminded me through His word, while I stared at an old fort, that He is my strong tower, my stronghold, my fortress. 

He reminded me there in the shade that I rest in the shadow of His mighty wings.

He reminded me, as I sat in the grass by the water, that He is my shepherd who makes me lie down in green pastures and that he leads me beside quiet waters.

He reminded me that He will always lead me down the right paths for the sake of whatever brings Him glory, and that should be my aim.

He reminded me that, in Him, I have everything I need.

He quieted my soul.

I don't know where your story right now: if you're fresh off a plot twist, drowning in the middle, or on your way in. I don't know if your plot twist is a tiny turn or an implosion. But friend, what I DO know is that you have a choice in how you handle it. You have a choice in your perspective.

We all have different stories, but the same choice: who we allow to be the author. Personally, I choose Him - my Creator, the One who knows the beginning and the end. I am merely a character in His story, but I trust Him enough to know He'll write a far better version than I could ever imagine.

Who's writing your story? Are you muddling through, trying in every earthly way to make the next right turn? Or are you trusting God to guide your path, knowing He can take you places in this adventure that are beyond your wildest dreams?

We all have plot twists. How will you handle yours?

On the Edge of the Promise: The Right Battles with the Right Focus

In Community Bible Study this year, we studied Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. I have to admit, when we started, I was not overly enthusiastic. Nevertheless, as we began studying, I saw multiple parallels in my life and the journey of Moses and the Israelites.

Because of those parallels, now that CBS is over, I decided I should probably continue into Deuteronomy. Might as well follow journey to its conclusion, right?

This morning, God showed me a verse I would previously have easily ignored and gave me not just one lesson, but TWO.

God is so faithful.

When you get close to the Ammonites,

don't show any hostility to them or provoke them,

for I will not give you any of the Ammonites land as a possession;

I have given it as a possess to the descendents of Lot.

This too used to be regarded as the land of the Rephaim.

The Rephaim lived there previously,

though the Ammonites called them Zamzummim,

a great and numerous people, tall as the Anakim.

The Lord destroyed the Rephaim at the advance of the Ammonites,

so that they drove them out and settled in their place.

Deuteronomy 2:19-21

First, let's talk about what's going on here. The Israelites have defied God and failed to trust in Him numerous times, but none with such dire consequences as turning back from the Promised Land because they were afraid of its inhabitants. That defiance was costly: all but two people from the entire generation would pass away before their children would take possession of the land.

God's promises would still be fulfilled, but they wouldn't see it.

Now, that faithless generation has died and, having already won a couple of the battles God would have them face, the next generation stands at the brink of the Promised Land...and God has Moses give them a little history lesson.

First. in verse 19, it's very clear that God told them precisely which fights to pick and which ones to avoid altogether. At the end of Numbers, He very specifically outlined the borders of the Promised Land for them, and this land was not included. This is someone else's promise.

Where in your life are you picking the wrong battles? Where are you ignoring the voice of God that says, "That's not your fight"? Where are you coveting someone else's promise?

When we fight the wrong battles, we lose very precious time and energy, and consequently, instead of facing our own battles healthy, we stagger into them already bloodied and torn. Instead of facing the fight with our armor secure, weakened hands grip our shields of faith and tattered threads hold up our belts of truth. The victory may still be won, but not without undue pain and sacrifice.

Second, in verses 20-21, God wants Moses to clearly illustrate to His people that He's done it before, and He'll do it again. There were giants in the land Lot's descendants inhabit, but "The Lord destroyed the Rephaim at the advance of the Ammonites." The Lord made a promise, and HE fulfilled it.

Lot's descendants had faith that God would fulfill His promise to them. They didn't look at the so-called giants they faced, but at the God who faced the giants with them. God wanted his people to see the stark contrast of faith verses fear. Lot's descendants walked in faith, while the Israelites' previous generation walked in fear, despite God's many miracles and blessings.

Where in your life are you looking at the giants before you instead of the God who faces the giants with you?

There is one thing that is sure, no matter the giants in front of you, now or in the future, our God is bigger than them all.

So be strong and courageous!

Do not be afraid

and do not panic before them.

For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you.

He will neither fail nor abandon you.

Deuteronomy 31:6

Flaunting My Flaws

"I know I'm not supposed to think this way," I mused to Josiah recently, "but reading what she wrote makes me never want to write again. It's so good!"

He gave me a sobering look: "I'd imagine that's how a lot of people would feel about your writing."

The words were just a little sharp, and they cut me - not in a harmful way, but like a skilled surgeon cutting out a malignant growth - painful, yet necessary.

Today, he and I had a conversation about singing. Often, when I'm listing my strengths, skills, or gifts, I list speaking, teaching, and writing. Almost every time, Josiah pops in from the side to add singing to the list.

"Why do you do that?" I asked today. "I sing okay, but I'm just not that great."

His answer, again, surprised me and changed my perspective. He didn't tell me I was the next American Idol or contender on The Voice. He didn't applaud my skill.

Instead, he said, "When you sing, it connects with people. You connect with people. So, it's not just a talent, it's a gift. I think God wants you to use it. It may not look like what you think or hope it will, but I think God will use it." 

Oh my prideful heart.

Later, I was talking with a friend about our writing. We talked about the editing process and how we go about it.

We also both admitted to secretly being relieved or happy when we find the typos of incredibly gifted writers, not because we applaud a perceived failure, but because it makes us see those people as a little more human. It gives us hope that maybe, just maybe, it's okay not to be perfect.

And then it made sense.

This picture of perfection we're all striving for - whether it be the cleanest house, the most brilliant blog post, or the voice of an angel - is completely pointless.

I've got news for you: there's always someone better, and if there isn't, give it a minute - there will be.

However, there's also someone looking up to you, a person just behind you or who's just starting out. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to lay it all on the line and show your human frailties and imperfections, then you're inspiring that next better person.

And by doing that, you might just change the world, one inspiring typo or flat note at a time. 

After all, God didn't say His power was perfected in our strengths, but in our weaknesses.

So now, I'm flaunting my flaws. God doesn't need perfection; He's already got that. God needs my willingness to try my best and be authentically the person He made me. I'll leave the rest to Him.

But He said to me,

"My grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,

so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

This One is Not for You

When did I stop creating and start producing?

When did I decide that popularity or people's opinions trumped self-expression?

When did I decide to prostitute my art for the formulaic "devotion" I thought people wanted to read?

When did I sell my soul in the name of ministering to the souls of others?

My daughter shared a YouTube video with me the other day called Lighthouse - song and spoken word combined - that broke my heart in a million tiny pieces, but also lit the kindling left on fire. A million questions like the ones above rose up like smoke from the flames: dense. They choked me and burned my eyes

"I've never watched," Danielle Bennett says, "but I can tell I'm beautiful when I'm writing...."

Those words. I cannot even describe the longing they evoked...to just write. 

I love words. I'm passionate about words, but lately, the well dried up because I deemed my heart not worth sharing if I couldn't wrap it up neatly, stick a bow on it, and label it with a Bible verse and a catchy title.

If I couldn't write something that I felt would impact people for Jesus or teach them a lesson, then I decided it wasn't worth writing.

I have a vision board with hand lettered quotes. One of them says, "Start writing - no matter what. The faucet does not flow until the faucet is turned on."

Every day I look at it...and how many times have I written? Twice. 

Two. Times.

But now, it's time to prime the pump.

I've been waiting for a supernatural message to tell me what to write, so I could then put words on a page, but guess what, God can't steer a vehicle I'm not driving.

Writing is not something I do. It's not something I decided I wanted to try and maybe it'll work out or maybe it won't, depending upon the number of followers I get or who wants to read my posts.

Writing is WHO I AM, and I cannot wait to be me again. I am bursting at the seems.

I want to write. I want to speak. Why? For no other reason than to make beautiful music with the words that drip from mind and mouth.

Because alliteration makes my heart hear magical melodies.

Because metaphors are life.

Because I love the way words can float on the air like bubbles on a warm summer day, drifting down and popping gently on the listeners nose, or they can pound a stake in hard, frozen ground with a deafening clang that leaves readers breathless, speechless, and changed.

Because I have another quote on my dream board that says, "Be fearless in pursuit of what sets your soul on fire," and I am tired of walking in fear and timidity and oh so ready to walk in the power and promise of all that God has made me to be.

That's me: words pouring from a faucet and a soul raging in passionate flames. What the heck. If the Holy Spirit can be both fire and water, so can I.

I'm stepping into my muchness. This is my manifesto. This blog post is not for you...unless it is.

Unless you, too, are weary of the need for perfect performance or the prettiest instagram page. For $100 they'll teach you to fetch the followers, feed the fans, and fan the flame of self-promotion, but they forget to share the tiny writing on the bottom line that says you might just sell your soul in the process.

Not this girl. Not today, Satan.

I'm taking me back, and ya know what? She's not perfectly branded, but she is perfectly imperfect, and in a world full of fake perfection - in tones of blush, mint, and pearl - a little blood, blond, and dirt might stand out just fine.

I'm on the road to the real me with a pretty sign that says, "Authenticity or Bust" slapped on the back of the van, and it's taking passengers, so if you're ready, hop on board.

It's going to be a wild ride. 

Rejecting the Gift

Picture this...

You've put together a beautiful gift for your kids. You planned for an incredibly long time. You saved. You sacrificed. Then, the day comes for you to reveal this amazing gift, and not just a gift they want, but a gift they desperately NEED. Your heart is in it. Your soul is in it. You can't wait to see how blessed they are by it!

But they reject it.

Some of them just can't really figure it out. They don't really understand it. So you think, maybe later.

But others see it, understand it, and pick it up and look at it...only to toss it aside to run off and play in the trash heap.

Painful, right? Heart-breaking. That's how I've been treating God's grace.

Grace is the word the Holy Spirit planted in my heart to focus on this year. I've been studying it, thinking about it, trying to figure out how to walk in it. It's a journey.

But then...

Last Saturday, Josiah and I took part in a service project with our life group. On the way home, someone sent me a picture of the group...and I was mortified.

Despite the fact that I said I was going to start appreciating my body...
Despite the fact that I promised myself I would stop hating it...
Despite the fact that I told myself I would be KIND to me...

I was deeply ashamed and utterly disgusted.

I went pretty far down the rabbit hole that day. Hell hath no fury like a person hell-bent on self-flagellation. No matter what Bible verses came to mind or what Josiah said, I rejected it. I said I deserved to be ashamed, and I deserved to be punished. And if God wouldn't do it, then I would.

That night, I sat in church, empty. I felt like I'd completely bled myself dry. And then, the pastor got to 1 Corinthians 6:19-20:

Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the

Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?

You are not your own,

for you were bought with a price.

So glorify God in your body.

And I broke. I poured all my pain out on the altar. I couldn't even pray. I just sobbed and let the worship music crash into me and over me like waves.

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.
Oh, it chases me down, fights 'til I'm found, leaves the 99.
And I couldn't earn it, and I don't deserve, still you give yourself away.
Oh, the overwhelming, never, ending, reckless love of God.

There's no shadow you won't light up, mountain you won't climb up,
coming after me.
No wall you won't kick down, lie you won't tear down,
coming after me.

Finally, I made it to a prayer partner and asked her to pray over me, and she did, until at last, peace came to me.

But the next day, I knew I couldn't just let it go. I was grateful to have been given the peace, but I know my Father well enough to know He is never without waste. I'm supposed to learn something.

So, back down the rabbit hole I went, but this time with a rope called the Word of God.

But time and again that day, I was drawn to search out people's theological opinions on whether MY BODY is a sin. I found myself desperately wanting to confirm my deepest feelings that my body, in its current state was sinful and wrong and shameful.

I mean, sure, God created it, and it WAS good but I've destroyed it, right?

What if I can't lose weight? I have PCOS, so I'm insulin resistant, and it's really hard to lose weight. Is it a sin for me to stay the way I am?

I know people who are insulin resistant often need to watch their cards and the glycemic index. How do I know what I can eat? Is it a sin for me to ever eat carbs? Is it a sin for me to eat ice cream EVER?

But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find sound theological justification for the theory. Just as a child born from a sinful act is not shameful or dirty, but a gift from God, my body, though some sin may have led to its current form, is NOT sinful. It's not shameful. It's a gift.

Nevertheless, each new line of questioning sent me down another trail that inevitably ended with "My body isn't good enough." Even when I was simply trying to make a plan for HOW to care for and respect my body in a way that honored the Spirit within it, I got confused and continued to feel overburdened and ashamed.

Why? Two reasons.

First, it is impossible to properly care for and show love to anything you think is shameful, disgusting, and unworthy. You can try, but the truth will seep out, in one way or another.

Second, and more critically, I realized I have no clue how to actually walk in grace. I have always felt the need to punish myself mentally and emotionally for any mistake or transgressions.

When I was praying with my mentor Saturday night, I told her I knew God had already broken the chains I was wearing, but they were mine, a piece of me, and I wasn't sure I knew how to or if I wanted to be rid of them.

She said, "Okay, I'll tell you what. The next time you go to the gym, before you get on the treadmill, put 200 lbs of chains around your neck. Then get on and see how far you get."

As I searched for Scripture the next day, I came upon Hebrews 12, and here is where I'm going to get a little unorthodox. I was deeply affected by the WHOLE chapter, but I don't want to type all that out here. Instead, I'm going to share with you the message God gave to me as I walked through the chapter, and I'm praying you'll read the scripture directly for yourself.

God said:

I have a plan for you, Alissa; I have a path I need you to walk down. It's not an easy path, nor is it short, so in order to walk it you're going to need to take off the chains and straighten up.

You're walking slumped over, your knees buckling beneath the weight of your own condemnation. You can't possibly keep your eyes on me that way, and you certainly can't walk straight on My path. 

Trust me. Get rid of those chains and trust in my love. Don't reject my grace, the beautiful gift I've given you through my Son. I sacrificed for you. Don't toss it away as meaningless and run off to play in the trash heap of lies.

Do you know the gift I've given you?? Esau didn't. He sold his birthright for a single meal. Please don't toss away your rights as my daughter for the momentary illusion that you have control.

Don't place yourself under a law I've set you free from. Don't set arbitrary rules for yourself so that you're still a slave to your own rewards and punishments. 

If you want to eat, ask me what you should eat. If you want to know how much to eat, ask me to tell you when you're finished and to give you the courage to obey.

My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinth. 12:9)

You're weak. That's okay. Instead of making rules for yourself, trying to rely on your own strength to keep them, lean on me, and I'll show you a power and a peace you cannot even comprehend. Let me be glorified because where you can't, I CAN.


Friends, let me tell you: I still struggle. Changing deeply held beliefs is a process. For just about my entire 40 years, I have felt like I wasn't good enough, in so many ways, and I needed to be punished for it.

What I've been missing is that there's only been ONE who's ever been good enough, and He sacrificed Himself for me. Jesus completes me. He fills all my holes and shortcomings, so that I am ALWAYS enough.

And through Him, so are you.

Morning Mercies

Last night, as I took a scalding hot shower to try to wipe off the stench of my hideous behavior, the hateful words I'd spoken rang loudly in my ears. This morning, I can still hear their echo.

Ironically, one of the things I told yelled at my son yesterday was, "You can't take words back. You can apologize, but your words drive a nail into someone's heart, and when you remove the nail, you still leave a jagged, bleeding hole."

Not only did I scream that at him, but I pounded my fist into my other palm for added effect. He had disrespected me and then really wounded his sister with his words, so apparently, I was going to teach him an excellent lesson by highlighting some very wise words with my some really horrible behavior.

I then went on to nail some more holes into my husband. Over and over and over, almost uncontrollably, I hammered them in. He was so brave in light of it all, so honorable. The Holy Spirit in Him was strong, and he gave grace when I needed it the most.

This morning, the shame of my behavior still clings to me, like an oily film even a scalding shower can't wash off. There is just so much remorse.

However, my God is faithful, even in these moments. His voice whispers to me, "My grace is sufficient for you" (2 Corinth 12:9).

The Holy Spirit reminds me His mercies are new each morning (Lamentations 3:22-23).

And, when I sought a devotion this morning about my anger, He brought me to Unglued, by Lisa TerKeurst, and this verse wrapped its arms around my soul:

For, I, Yahweh your God,

Holy your right hand.

and say to you: Do not fear,

I will help you.

Isaiah 41:13

Do not be afraid. I'm holding your hand. I will help you. 

I let out a relieved sigh. Thanks be to God.

I need help in so many areas right now. My temper seems to have a mind of its own. My house is topsy turvy. Our homeschool days are dreary. My business needs new life.

But in all things, there He is. His grace is sufficient. His mercies are new each morning. He is with me, holding my hand.

And I am grateful.