To each her own~

My entire life I learned that marriage was 50/50, a partnership. But I heard something a few years ago that completely changed my views on marriage.  Marriage isn't 50/50, it isn't even 100/100.  It's more like an ever shifting plane. Some days you give 90%, some days you give 10, but the thing about it is this: you both have to give all you have every day. Because when you're both giving all you have, then all you have is enough.

I absolutely love marriage helps. I have an entire board on Pinterest dedicated to them. For years I poured all that I was into being the best mother that I could be. Sometimes I succeeded, sometimes I failed, but my marriage would often take a back seat. And now that our kids are grown, I want to give that same dedication to my husband.

It's seems like I'm not the only person interested in making things great with my significant other. In the last few months I've read articles on Why You Should Have Sex Every Night, Why You Shouldn't Have Sex Every Night, Things Every Woman Should Know,  Things Every Man Should Know, and Why Your Spouse Should Always Come First (woops!). You know what I have learned from all of this reading?  Nobody knows anything about your relationship except you and your partner. That's it. Everyone else can have tons of opinions about what will make it better, but the only two people that know how to make it work are you. So ask for advice, read up on what works best for others, but in the end, it's the two of you. And marriage works when you work. So work it.

I still believe

This is the second in a two part series

A few years after the whole poem fiasco my uncle was singing in the little church when he had a massive heart attack and died. After that our attendance there slowly dwindled to nothing.  As my parents church attendance had been spotty, so was ours from that point forward. 

Ryk Neethling/Flikr

While my church attendance wasn't "up to par" my relationship with Jesus was doing well. I was praying and studying my bible daily. And then our kids introduced us to an online game. Over the next few years it consumed our family. All of us played, often together, and nothing was as important as playing the game.  During this time I met an atheist who was firm in his belief that there was no God. He posed some interesting questions, ones that I didn't have answers to. And so I began to wonder myself. Was I just believing this because I had been raised in it? Why did I believe that there was a "mystery man" in the sky who would protect me? 

My struggle began there. I first started investigating why I believed God existed. The best answer I could come up with at the time was "because I just know" Which, as you may realize, didn't get me very far. To me he's in the sunrise and the sunset, in the perfect elliptical orbits of the planets, the distance between the sun and the earth, the earth and the moon, the rise and fall of the tides. But to my atheist friend, all of this could be explained by science. My faith faltered, what if I was wrong? Look how far science had come in just the last 50-75 years. What if in the next 100 years they could explain so much more?  

Hubble Sweeps a Messy Star Factory - NASA

The easiest thing for me to do was to search for Jesus. Because, in my faith, Jesus is my salvation. I couldn't prove that God was real, but could I prove that Jesus existed.  Could I do it outside of the bible? Could I find evidence that Jesus was who he said he was without turning to the one book that atheists scorn so?  I wondered. 

To type out everything that I learned would take about 20 posts. But I would like to share with you a couple of things that I did discover. Jesus is mentioned in many historical documents, almost always in passing. The most notable of these are in the writings of Josephus and Tacitus, both respected historians.  Josephus said of Jesus: 

About this time there lived Jesus, a wise man, if indeed one ought to call him a man. For he was one who wrought surprising feats and was a teacher of such people as accept the trut gladly. He won over many Jews and many of the Greeks. He was the Christ. When Pilate, upon hearing him accused by men of the highest standing among us, had condemned him to be crucified, those who had in the first place come to love him did not give up their affection for him. On the third day he appeared to them restored to life, for the prophets of God had prophesied these and countless other marvelous things about him. And the tribe of Christians, so called after him, has still to this day not disappeared. 

The passages in italics are debatable. That is to say, it is likely those were added by early Christian copyists, and were not written by Josephus.  On the whole, though, this passage is believed to be authentic by many scholars.

Tacitus wrote:

Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstitution, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome...Accordingly, an arrest was first made of tall who pleaded guilty: then, upon their information, an immense multitude was convicted, not so much of the crime of firing the city, as of hatred against mankind. 

Rather than bore you with a long list of other minor mentions I will sum up what I learned. If we threw out the New Testament (which are biographies and historic letters), and other Christian writings there are still some major points we can glean from historic references about Him.

1. Jesus was a Jewish teacher
2. Some people believed he was the Messaiah
3. He was rejected by the Jewish leaders
4. His enemies acknowledged he performed unusual feats. (healings, exorcism)
5. He was crucified under Pontius Pilate in the reign of Tiberius
6. Despite his death his followers believed that he was still alive.
7. His followers multiplied rapidly and spread as far as Rome. 
8. Many people worshiped him as God

Honestly with my bible background, and what I knew from that, that was enough for me.  He existed, he died in the manner that my bible says he did, and his disciples continued to worship him even when facing death. They truly believed that he was the Messaiah. And if Jesus exists, well then so does God. 

While I tried to find evidence for Jesus outside my bible, I came to one interesting conclusion. Excluding the bible is a little silly, honestly. If these books weren't religious writings they would be honored as historical documents.  

I found this site helpful in my research.

Dear Mama,

I'm going to be a grandma. Things are going so fast since you left us, mama. I wish you could meet Brittany. You would love her. She's sweet, and country, and perfect for Shane. I think this is the first time he's ever truly been in love. And I'm so thankful that God put her in his life.

My family is growing by leaps and bounds mama. It's amazing how fast it happened. Matt has found himself a wonderful girl. We just got to meet her last week. She's from Wisconsin, her name is Melissa. And she's a sweetheart. She would remind you a lot of me. She talks super fast, which I love. Finally someone who can keep up with me.

Amanda has a new love as well, Isaiah. They're planning on getting married. She asked him. I know that doesn't surprise you a bit, she's an assertive little fart. Always has been. Oh, and they've all moved out. But don't worry, I'm not alone. Hunter and Lolo are here most days. So I am plenty active. And when they go home I turn off the TV, put on some music, and chill.  It's so nice mama. I'm working on getting healthy. I want to live to a ripe old age. I hope I can live up to the huge shoes that you left to be filled. You were the best grandma I have ever seen. I hope I can be half as good as you were.

Love you mama, miss you always,

I believe

This will be the first in a two-part series. 

I was having a conversation with my daughter a week or two ago. And I can't remember everything that was said but I recall we were talking about salvation. And she told me that she had never heard my testimony. Which is basically a fancy way of saying why I believe what I believe. So I told it to her, and I wanted to share a short version with you. I also want to clarify exactly what I believe, because I had a friend point out that they had no idea what I believe when it comes to my faith, and that saddens me. I should have done a better job representing my beliefs, I suppose.

I grew up in a Christian home. I can't remember us ever going to church regularly. It just wasn't something that we did. But I also can't remember a time that we didn't study the bible or just know that God existed, and that Jesus died for us. There was a lot of vacation bible school, and I remember a church near where we lived once picked us (the kids) up for Sunday service.

When I was 26 years old I had a series of very disturbing dreams. Most of them about the end of the world. I remember in one I could feel Jesus calling my spirit. And I felt it trying to leave my body but something was holding me back. In another these huge meteors were raining down from the sky, destroying everything. I could see someone standing on a hill looking down. I thought, at the time in the dream, that it was Jesus. And I can't describe what he looked like to you, because I can't remember. I just knew it was him. Kind of like you know your parents or your children. The thing that I took away from these dreams was that I wasn't who I thought I was. To me, at the end of each dream, I always knew that I wasn't a Christian. I hadn't accepted Jesus as my Lord. Having grown up in a household where Jesus was just always present, I had assumed that by simply knowing him, I was a Christian. I knelt by my bed after the second dream and asked God to forgive me. I accepted Jesus into my heart that night.

Meteor by Brandon Stricker

Now a few years later Hubby and I were members of a little non-denominational church. I was basically running the youth group, but he had the title. Because this was a church that believed women should know their place. (And it wasn't as a leader in the church in any way) We had been members there for quite a while and were very active. I sought out anything that I could do to serve the church, telling myself I just wanted to be a witness for God. It wasn't until years later that I realized it wasn't God's approval I was seeking. At the time I was good friends with most of the members, as this was a small church. When I would sing they would tell me what a great job I had done. They would say they appreciated my work with the youth group. Which honestly had a varying number of people, but never over six. I was eating the praise up. The more they bragged on me, the more I wanted. I began to write poetry to read in church. It felt good to have people tell me what a great job I was doing. I loved the attention and craved it.

Easter Sunday one year I wrote a poem about the crucifixion. Hubby asked to read it before we went to church, I told him he could wait and hear it with everyone else. I was so sure of myself. I stood at the front of the church and cried reading it. I would post it here for you to see, but it was long since destroyed. I remember, clear as day though, the part that finally made me realizing I wasn't living to serve God, I was living for the accolades. There was a line in this point that said something about bones broke, my sin he bore. You know what didn't happen to Jesus on the cross? None of his bones were broken.

I knew this. But I had gotten caught up in making this poem as dramatic as possible. I wanted people to be in tears, as I was when I read it. And I wanted, most of all, for them to tell me how much it had affected them. When I finished reading, I looked up and the entire church was silent. I hadn't even realized my mistake at this point. I took my seat smug in the knowledge that they were all speechless in the emotion that I had elicited.

When church was over and I asked hubby, "Did you like my poem?"
"Most of it"
"What didn't you like?"
"There were no bones broken during the crucifixion, honey."
My house of cards came tumbling down. My embarrassment was a palpable thing. Why didn't I think? In my search for a pat on the back, I had made a fool of myself. To the church's credit, none of them judged me. We continued going to that church but I slowly melted into the back ground. All of a sudden attention wasn't nearly as important to me as it had been.

"You're going to lose that though"

Here we are on year three of my roller coaster weight loss plan. And once again I'm trying, but yesterday my "want to" got a huge boost. One of the major things that kills me in my journey is confidence. I have none. In the back of my mind, I'm always waiting to fail, and pretty sure I will.

By Sander van der Wel from Netherlands, via Wikimedia Commons

But yesterday something happened that changed that for me. Hubby and I were in town looking at kayaks. We've often talked about how we'd like to "someday" go kayaking together. So we're walking around looking at some and hubby is trying to find one with a wide bottom because, apparently(?), they're more stable. I made the comment that "It's going to need a really wide bottom to accommodate my wide bottom" To which he replied, "You're going to lose that though."  Just like that, it wasn't a command, or an insult. It was just a statement of faith. He knew I was going to lose it, that's it. No doubt.

Photo by: John Liu/Flicker

I can't tell you how good that made me feel. All of a sudden I wasn't hoping I could do it this time. I knew I could. I know I can. Hubby has never really cared what I weigh. He loves me completely, and always has. He did when I was 140lbs, and he did when I was 311lbs. But knowing that he believes in me, that he knows I am capable of getting healthy, well that gave me a huge incentive to stay the course, to do my very best. So yes, I'm going to lose that, and we're going to buy a couple of kayaks. And my someday is coming.

Chronosynchronicity

Perhaps those few of you who read this blog religiously realized that I recently changed the name of it. Thirty Minutes of Wonderful never really fit the blog, it was mostly an homage to a quote that I loved from a movie that I still love. Recently, while scrolling through a list of obscure words, I came across this one:

Chronosynchronicity: the presentation of all stages of a person's life in a single piece of art. 

I don't know that I would call a blog "art", but then if these exhibits count as art, why not this as well? At any rate that description spoke to me. When I started this blog it was mostly about my weight loss journey. Which is an ongoing struggle and the one thing most posted about here. But it was also about my family, my kids, my husband, and my extended family. When I began it my mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and my world was in a whirlwind. So much has happened and much of it has never been posted here because it is private, personal information. But I want this blog to continue to be a record, if you will, of all the stages of my life. And so I share another stage with you today.

Yep, that's an empty nest.

On May 30th, while hubby and I were on a camping trip my boys moved out. We knew it was coming, it wasn't unexpected. The camping trip had been planned months ago, the moving out only came within the last month. Both boys had recently found jobs about an hour drive from here. And they were tired of making the long trek to work and back daily. So they had begun to look for an apartment in the last couple of months and started seriously saving to move out.

They found the apartment just a few weeks before our trip and chose to move out that weekend because it was the easiest time for them. They would receive a month's free rent at their new place if they were in it before June 1. And it just worked for them. So when we left for our camping trip, we knew we would come home to an emptier house.

The Moody Crew back in the day.

As hubby and I lay in our bed our first night home we were each quiet, lost in our own thoughts. "Whatcha thinkin' bout?" I asked
"I guess I'm just a little down about the boys, I didn't think it would bother me this much."
We snuggled closer and held each other. It's strange when your kids move out. I have to continuously remind myself that they aren't dead, they've just moved out. They aren't gone, they're just... gone.

I remember arguing with my boys so much when they were home over silly, stupid little things. I miss arguing with them. Don't get me wrong now, I don't want them to stay home forever. I want my kids to move out and start their own lives. I want them to be their own person, making their own decisions. It's just... different. For as long as I can remember I've been a mom. My job has been caring for my kids, and I've slowly been weaning myself off of that while they were here. But it's not just being a mom that I miss. It's the company, the conversations, I even miss the eye rolling and the complaining.

But along with missing them and wishing they were still here is yet another feeling, an anticipation for the new life that is to come. A curious spirit, a wondering. What's next? What will this next chapter of our lives be like? The only thing that I can do now is hope and pray that I taught my children as well as I could. I made mistakes, show me a parent who hasn't. But the one thing my children know is that I love them. I have loved them with all that I am for all of their lives. And I will always love them and be here for them no matter what. So as we all begin this next exciting and terrifying journey, we'll do it together, and separate, and we'll do it with hearts full of love. 

Tidbits Episode 5

WOW! It has been a LONG time since I did a tidbits episode. I have so much to tell you!

~ My daughter is back home again (sort of).  She'll be moving out again in a month, but for the last couple of months she's been living in our camper out back with her fiance while they save for an apartment. It's a long story, but it's been nice having her around again. I love my little bugszilla <3

~ The dieting thing, oh lord, do we really need to talk about it? The best I have EVER done on a diet is when I started cutting things out a little at a time. I ended up dropping 18 lbs and then started eating all of the crap again (bad, bad, bad) So I've started over (yet again) with that. This week is no soda, and I'm doing great. Dropping one thing at a time is way easier for me than going cold turkey on anything. I'm determined never to give up.

~ My boys recently moved out (huge post on that coming soon). And I'm feeling the empty nest syndrome.

~ I recently made my first trip to a big city. Hubby had to go to Atlanta on a business trip and I tagged along. I have to say I wasn't impressed. It was really pretty, but I'm a rural girl y'all. I come from a small town and I've always lived in the backwoods. I live the closest to town right now I have in my entire life. And I'm about a 10 minute drive from the nearest small town. I've never been closer than an hour away from a big(ish) city, and I have always been curious about them. So when I had the opportunity to ride along I jumped on it. I was not impressed.  As far back as I can remember I've known that when you meet someone on the street you smile, make eye contact, nod, and issue a polite greeting. "Morning." or "Hi, how are you?" Which, if eye contact is made, will usually elicit a smile, nod, and a reply. If the other person doesn't make eye contact you just nod, smile, and move on. And they do the same. I walked every where I went in Atlanta for three days, and I greeted every person I met. With the exception of one person everyone simply looked away when I made eye contact and smiled. The one lady made my day. She was probably 70-80 years old and when she smiled back I said, "Morning!" "Morning! It's a beautiful day isn't it." "Yes ma'am it is!" I was so happy that someone was finally being polite, you have no idea. It wasn't just that they were not making eye contact or nodding or whatever, it was the general air of rudeness that surrounded everyone. At any rate I've decided big cities are not for me. I'll stay right here in my little corner of the world where there really are smiling faces and beautiful places :) However it was nice to finally be "traveling" even if it wasn't too far away.

~ For the past 8 years I've been babysitting my nephews. I don't mind doing it, it helps my sister and they are a hoot. (really funny for you non-southerners) But I have finally decided that I'm ready to be free. My kids are moving out, I want the freedom to do what I want when I want to do it. Started in August I'll only be watching them a few days a week after school. This works well for me because I would miss them terribly if I didn't keep them at all.

March Madness

So around the 10th of March I decided I needed to start keeping a journal. I use MyFitness Pal to keep a food log, I have MapMyFitness to keep track of my walks (which I haven't done any of lately), and I now own a FitBit. With all of these wonderful high tech gadgets, I feel like the thing that may help me most right now is just a simple log of my day. Most of the time it is one or two sentences, sometimes it is more. I normally write a quick bit in the morning when I get up, and then a follow-up the next morning about how that day ended. I have simple goals for this month. And since I mention them in my writing I will share them here:

Goals:

 - 3500 steps per day
- 16 oz of water per day
- no candy
- don't go over your calorie limit

3-10-15 

8:00 AM - 300 lbs. I'm not sure if that is right. If it is, it shouldn't be. I ate way too many calories this last week. My goal is 1978 calories today, let's see if I can manage that. 

BMD, AMD

Time has marched on, and the day I have dreaded for a few years is quickly approaching. My sons will be moving out soon. 

Harry

I am both happy and saddened by this. My one desire for my children is that they would grow up to be strong, independent, productive members of society. I want them to have their own space, to know joy and embrace life. But I want them to do all of that while still under my wings, darn it!  Ignore that, that's the controlling part of me screaming, and the mothering part of me crying out.  Soon my nest will truly be empty. And this is one of those times that I find my heart crying out for mama. 

Kevin Jarrett

Sometimes it seems as if my life is measured in two sections. BMD: Before Mama Died, and AMD: After Mama Died.  Before mama died I have memories, lovely memories. And I have regrets. So many things I wish I had done that I didn't do. Why didn't we go try on wedding dresses? The only thing she asked to do, but we never found the time to do it. Why didn't I go visit her more? Force her to move in with me? Move in with her?  The why's and what if's would drive me crazy if I let them. So I shush them and just try to remember the good times. Her singing and dancing in the kitchen with me. The look on her face when we gave her the train she'd always wanted for Christmas. 

AMD is full of times I need her reassurances that this too shall pass. Like now. What was it like for her when we were all out of the house? How did she handle this aching? It's crazy, the things that I never thought to ask her before, but now, now that I am going through these things, I want to ask her. How do I handle this mama? What did you do?  

Three hundred and eleven

Three-one-one, tres-uno-uno.  How is that possible?

Last August I finally bit the bullet and set up all of my yearly physicals. Things I haven't done since I was a child because I abhor waiting in a doctor's office for five minutes of care which costs me well over $100.  I just feel it's stupid. Our insurance company didn't agree with me. They made it mandatory.  Fine.

Ok, I'll go, but I won't like it. 

Anyone who has read any of this blog knows that I have been trying to lose weight for two years. And in that time my weight has yoyo-ed as dealt with mama's cancer and then death. So when I made these appointments I was expecting bad news. At my heaviest before all of that I weighed 296lbs.  And that was bad. So I was thinking maybe 300, possibly even 305. I mean it was going to be bad, but I had lost down to 276 at one point, so really how bad could it be?

Well let me tell you, it was bad. When I stepped on those scales my weight was 311lbs.  That was apparently the shock I needed because for 3 months I kicked my tail into gear and lost a total of 18lbs, bringing my weight down to 293.  Then came Thanksgiving and Christmas, both really hard times for me in terms of emotional eating. It's when I miss mama the most, when I think of her most. December is her birthday and Christmas and every time I turn around I am wishing she was here. So I pretty much gave up again. And I did it willingly. I did it knowing what I was doing.  January rolled around and I had my first visit with my new gynecologist.  I stepped on the scale and shocked myself again 307 lbs. All of that work that I had just done was gone. I was almost back to my starting weight in August.

Are you freaking kidding me?!

And you know what the worst part was? I couldn't blame anyone. I knew what I was doing when I did it.  My doctor had told me when I went to see her in August that if I needed some help, she could probably prescribe something. I wanted to try and do it on my own first, no help. Because I knew I could. Also because what good is a pill that makes you not hungry when hunger doesn't figure into my extra eating? I don't have to be hungry. I don't have to be anything. I love food. And it gives me comfort. When I am happy, sad, excited, bored, whatever. And sugar is the worst for me. Sugar is my drug of choice. 

So once again I find myself rebooting my diet, no pills still. Exercising my body and my demons. I firmly believe that I can do this. And if you've read this all before and are rolling your eyes, keep rolling them. The only time you ever fail at anything is when you stop trying. And I'm not giving up!


Picture credits: First/Second