Have you ever sat with that feeling of “Who am I to do this?” Or maybe it’s “How am I going to do this?” Either way it can leave you feeling a little like an imposter. This is not your cue to stop. This is your cue to lean in. If you haven’t had a tiny hint of the question, “Can I really do this?” then you might not have scratched the surface of what you are capable of and the GOOD that’s about to come.
Parenting teens feels like there is a daily life altering decision being made. It’s not like deciding smashed peas or sweet potatoes for lunch. These decisions seem like they have the potential to shift the entire trajectory of their future.
Our bodies are a gift from God. Masterfully created. It’s miraculous to even contemplate the way my hand is even able to type these words now. But do we need to take our bodies seriously as a Christian?
A word loaded with emotion. A word heavy with fear, shame, mixed with desperation and doubt. A word hard to hear as a woman about her own physical health, but perhaps landing harder on the mom heart. This was the word I heard spoken over my oldest daughter last week at her annual physical health check.
As we move into a new year that might not have the fresh start feel that most new years do, I have been thinking a lot about the word renew. Closing out one year and beginning a new often brings about renewal just simply by flipping the page on the calendar year. But what does that look like for 2021?
My first body conscious memory was in second grade. I can tell you I weighed 52.5 pounds. I can tell you that because I was a gymnast. In order to make team and remain competitive, I weighed in weekly. And in second grade, I was exactly 52.5 pouds. According to coach Angela, I was a little “over size.”
I put on a pair of jeans today. Second time in, well, I’m not sure how long. I’m considering this a win! Four weeks in quarantine and my jeans still fit.
My heart raced. I laid in my bed, eyes staring wide at the ceiling. “Breathe Jen, breathe.” I took off my socks and threw off the covers. Beads of sweat began to drip from my forehead. Inhale hope, exhale fear. “You know what is truth Jen, meditate there.” It was brief. Maybe five to seven minutes. Just a little panic that set in as I wondered, “Is my Addie at risk?”
When I was 19-years old I weighed 142 lbs. I am sure some of you read that and say, “that’s great!” “So what?” Just for perspective sake, It was a solid 20 lbs more than I am carrying around at 44-years old. I am on the slighter side hovering just around 5’3″. I wasn’t obese by any means. Most wouldn’t have said I was overweight. I was not in a healthy BMI, but back then I just cared about the size of my Guess Jeans. The ones with the triangle on the back pocket. That’s when I committed to my first DIET.
