Ash Wednesday

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday which means the season of lent is upon us.

It's funny, I think, that I opened up The Upper Room today and read:

For 40 years in the desert, God's people were assured they would not go hungry. But they could—and did—grow weary of their monotonous diet of manna. Then, once they crossed the Jordan River into the Promised Land, the manna ceased—no more guaranteed food. God's people had the freedom to fail, but they also had the faith that could help them succeed. Perhaps that's why they marked the crossing of the river by celebrating Passover, eating the unleavened bread.

The truth is I love food.

And, honestly, I think it's great. I don't feel bad that I love food. I don't even care if people think I eat a lot because let's be real, I'm a big eater. I am so incredibly blessed to eat every meal with more than enough, I am very lucky to not go hungry, and I'm humbled that I have as many options as I do. Eating in my life—it's a luxury. I can eat anything I want at anytime. Do you ever actually take a step back and think about that?

The thing is, after weeks and months of eating however I damn well please, eating is just another thing I do. I really would like it to be more.

I want to be mindful and thankful of the food on the plate, where it comes from, and what it is doing for me. To do this, I am going to take only what I need. It's going to be a hard place to judge at times, but if I eat slower, listen to my body, I think I will know when I am sufficiently full. I won't eat just to eat; I will try and stop using food as a way for me to transfer my emotions.

I won't be able to do it alone, getting through the Lent season will take far more than my own discipline and self-control.

It's going to take me relying on God and being honest with Him and myself, something that I will need more and more as life continues down this crazy road.

Here's to 40 days of intentional, mindful, and healthy eating.

You are more

You are more than the choices that you've made.

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes.

You are more than the problems you create.

You've been remade.

"You are More", Tenth Avenue North

I want to hide my imperfections. I want them to stay far away from me, closed and unable to be found by anyone—myself included.

Except, it is where I come up short, where I fail, and where I go wrong that will always be a part of who I am. For every beautiful and good thing about me, all of that stands in greater light because of everything I do that is wrong. I am loved in spite of my flaws.

In the past year of my life—a year that was arguably the best I have ever had—I have spent some small parts of time trying to wish away moments, times, days, and weeks of sadness. Heavy emotions laced with sadness, guilt, regret, and loneliness consume me. I let them. I feel alone. Isolated. And just, so sad.

Today I realized that maybe these dark times come because I am just so busy trying to be perfect. I have a hard time admitting to myself that I can be weak, or that I can mess up, because I worry that if I screw up here or if I feel even a twinge of sadness, I can't be who I am. The Heather that I know I am, I worry that she will fall away.

So when I feel this sadness and I keep it deep inside, I only hurt myself. All I can think to myself is "why?" It's not like I have a led a perfect life. Why didn't I feel this way when my parents divorced? What about when Grandma got sick? Certainly, I felt a deep sadness at those times too…but this kind of sadness. It's different and it's hard to describe. It's not a selfless sadness. It's suffocating. Regardless, I ask these questions, and because I worry about what it all means so much, I feel guilty for even feeling that way in the first place.

I'm so broken sometimes.

I judge others. I work too hard to please everyone. I feel ashamed of my brother. I have questioned everything. I get frustrated that my family has to be so complicated sometimes.

What makes all of this so redemptive is that when these emotions, fears, and anxieties are swept away, then it's just me.

And when that happens, loving life is infinitely easier.

Smiling, laughing, loving, it's just natural in the same way as giving, holding, and caring.

That is me. But, more importantly, it is God.

I'm remade.

I've had my doubts….my questions…but as always, I find myself right back with God—forgiven and just as loved.

Am I worth it? Will the guilt go away?

Yes, and yes. That's the grace of God.