Monthly Archives: April 2014

The Words I Would Say

21 Monday Apr 2014

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My sweet Aiden accepted Jesus as his personal savior this week. I’m thrilled, proud, and excited for him. I’m also worried. There are so many things I want to tell him. So, I thought I would start here.

When I was pregnant with him, I read, heard, and found a lot of advice that said I should write a letter to my unborn child. I should tell him things I wanted him to know. I tried. It didn’t work. As I have said before, I love writing, but I was at a loss for words when it came to this experience. There are so many things I want my children to know. There are a lot of things I want to teach them, shield them from, guide them through, but they are all pretty situational. I couldn’t give blanket advice to a child I did not know yet.

Fast forward seven years to when I was driving home from a day out with my boy. He was quietly sipping his chocolate malt, and I was driving, thinking of many things. Sweetly, I heard his voice say, “Momma? When can I get baptized?” I smiled and said, “Let’s talk about this when we get home.” Mainly I wanted to gather my thoughts, and not totally botch it. I mean, this only happens once. So, we got home, sat on the couch, and had a conversation. At the end of this conversation, he convinced me he understood what this meant, he understood the life he was claiming, and he was ready for this step. We held hands, prayed, I cried, and then we called his dad at work.

As we approach his baptism, there are so many things I want him to know about this decision. While I know he understands what he is saying and claiming for his life, he doesn’t know the magnitude of this life. I want him to know, that this doesn’t make his life easy. He’s going to face trials, tribulations, and pain. He will be mocked because of his faith. He will be called weak. He will be told he has pinned his beliefs on a “fiction book” and a “silly theory.” He will be told it’s foolish. He will be told his God is not real. Sometimes, these words will get into his head. He will doubt, question, and wonder, and that’s ok. It doesn’t make him weak. It doesn’t make him a fool. Doubt doesn’t make him less of a Christian. It makes him human, which is what he is.

I want him to know not to follow “religion.” Religion is flawed, because religion is of man, and man is flawed. I want him to know that the human faces of religion will fail him. A lot of awful people have done a lot of ungodly things in the name of religion. People will use the guise of religion to hate, discriminate, and harm others. Religion is not what we follow. Our faith is in God. Our truth lies in the Bible, in God’s Word. Our faith does not lie in religion. It does not matter if he is Baptist, Methodist, Catholic, Episcopalian, or Non-Denominational. What matters is that his faith is in God. That he knows Who is guiding his path and leading him through life. Don’t look to religion, son, look to Jesus.

I want him to know, he doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s not possible. The only perfect man who has ever walked this Earth was Christ, and he is not Christ. He is Aiden, a man, who will fail. He will have faults, flaws, and imperfections. It’s ok that he is not perfect. He needs to strive to live in the image of Christ, but he does not have to be perfect to be a Christian. If he’s anything like me as an adult, which I am certain he will be, he will be immensely flawed. Accept it. Love who you are, and constantly seek God. If you ever meet someone along the way who tells you that you are not a Christian because of _______ (fill in the blank) run away from them. They do not speak the truth.  The only thing that is required to be a Christian is the faith that Jesus is your savior.

There is a song by the Sidewalk Prophets entitled, “The Words I Would Say” (where I got the title for this blog. Thank you, Sidewalk Prophets). When I hear this song, I imagine a scenario. It is one that is much like a moment I had when I was in college. I called my mom late at night, drowning in stress, certain I couldn’t continue. When I hear this song, I picture myself 15 years from now, awake in the middle of the night, worrying about my sons. I’m sure it will happen. When this scenario occurs in real life, I hope I can say these words. This is the only advice my boys need in life, and I want to repeat it to them as much as possible:

“Be strong in the Lord, and never give up hope. You’re going to do great things, I already know. God’s got his hand on you, so don’t live life in fear. Forgive and forget, but don’t forget why you’re here. Take your time and pray. These are the words I would say.”

Aiden, I love you. You have always been a treasure, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt this path you’re on is going to lead to amazing things. Keep your sweet, little, chubby hand in God’s and you will be just fine. I already know.

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Size Doesn’t Matter

01 Tuesday Apr 2014

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From the time I was 10 years old I have been aware of my size. I have always known how much I weigh and what size I am wearing. Sometimes it has been a bit of obsessive (read: all of the time it has been a bit obsessive). I have always worked out, watched what I ate (or at the very least was aware of what I was eating). I can tell you the caloric content of almost anything. Go on, test me… bag of M&Ms? 250 calories. Arby’s Roast Beef… 350 calories. A piece of wheat bread… 60 calories. I’ll stop. It’s annoying. 

It was this obsession that led me to CrossFit. I have done about every other workout regimen. A friend of mine dabbled in it a bit, and her in-laws opened a box. Sure, why not. I’ll bite. So, I’ve already talked about that first workout. I won’t go down that path again. But, I will say again, CrossFit has changed my life. One of the main ways it has changed my life is how I view food. I LOVE to eat. Seriously, it is my favorite thing to do, but I do not let it control me. I am not obsessed with the caloric content of anything. I eat real food. I stay away from some things, have some glorious cheat meals, and indulge from time to time. I’m in the best shape of my life. Here’s the issue: while I am  the same size as far as measurements, I am the heaviest I have ever been (excepting my two pregnancies, of course).

The inner obsessive girl struggles with this. I went to the doctor today to have my back readjusted after the hellish 5 weeks that was the CrossFit Open, but of course, before I could go into the room, they had to weigh me. Lovely. I stared at the number in disbelief. It’s tough to see, but my inner dialogue immediately began the diatribe of “it’s mostly muscle,” and “think about your body fat percentage not your weight.” And I did, but as you see from this blog, it still bothers me. I have 32 years of thinking this way, and have been wrestling the last two with changing this. I think this is a common struggle with a lot of CrossFit girls. Some of us have spent years in search of the thigh gap and a protruding collar bone. Now we are combating quads for days, a big butt from squats, and the shoulders that would make the shoulder pad fad of the 80’s really easy. 

Don’t get me wrong, I am in love with what my body can do. I can squat thirty pounds more than my body weight, deadlift my body weight and a half, and can ALMOST clean my body weight (I need to work on that). I have not reached my goals yet, but I’m getting closer. But, I digress. I’m strong and I love it, but with that strength comes a mass I’m not used to, and that society is not used to. We talk about being “bulky” and “manly” and worry about how other’s view us. We need to start focusing on what our bodies can do, not how well our bodies fit with society.

If we began to do this, we would stop worrying about the size of the clothes we wear, because frankly no one has any idea what size your clothes are. Once they are on we can no longer see the tag, so wear what fits, right? It’s much better to wear  clothes that fit our bodies, than squeeze into clothes that don’t, simply so we can say, “I’m a size X”. Pointless, right? Not to mention it’s not cute. Psst, you actually look bigger in close that are too small. Again, I digress. If you live in a world where you have to tell people what size you wear, you need to find a new place to live. Sometimes you have to size up because your quads are too big, or you have to size down because your chest is too small. It doesn’t matter if  you are in a size 2 or a size 10, if your thighs touch or your cleavage doesn’t. What matters is what your body can accomplish. How well you perform at the tasks you wish to perform.

So, let’s embrace our quads, hams, glutes, biceps, triceps, and lats. Let’s enjoy what we do, and look good coming and going, no matter what size your shorts are, or which way the scale tips. Be happy with who you are and what you can do, and go kick some ass.

Photo Credit: Olivia Fortin Crossfit girl. Via Lorri Anne