On campmeeting and answered prayers

In the history of my denomination, campmeeting is significant and important.  It was a time of preaching and singing.  Of fellowship and friendship.  A time when the church body would move to a campground and "tent".  They brought their ice blocks, livestock, and all other items necessary for living.  As time passed, many campgrounds ended their meeting time in the summer, and other things changed.  Like electricity and plumbing.  Our local church campground, now has electricity in the "tents" (cabins), although no air conditioning - thank goodness for the invention of the box fan - and there is a bath house with toilets and showers.  But with automobiles, most of the congregation now lives in their homes and drives to the campground each night during the meeting time.

This is the week of campmeeting.  Since 1832 this meeting has occured annually - with the exception of a year or two during the Civil War.

The preaching is special - visiting pastors.  The music is special.  It is a time of introspection and renewal as a church.  And also personally.

I can recall several times kneeling at that altar and having friends surround me with their hands and their love and prayers.  I can recall answered prayers and the peace that followed - and sometimes it wasn't peace, but it was at least an answer.  I can recall being one of those people surrounding a hurting friend.  But answered prayers don't just come kneeling at the altar.  It can come sitting in a chair on the stage right before singing.  It happened to me last night.

Last night, I had a solo in the second choir piece of the evening.  It is one I had sung before and I knew it very well.  Right before the offertory prayer, my head started to throb.  So much I thought I would faint if I stood up.  Folks, this is 5 minutes before singing.  I didn't even hear the offertory prayer - I was praying silently to God to help me be able to stand up and sing that solo.  Right after that, the beautiful lady sitting next to me grabbed my hand and held it during the remainder of that prayer.  I don't know that she knew I was hurting but I knew she was praying for me and that it would be okay.  And it was.  My head was still hurting but I am fine and grateful to the Lord for praying friends.

Quiet after the storm

My title here is a little deceiving... I like storms.  I like the lightening and the thunder (although it scares the bejeebers out of our dog Luna).  I like the activity.

This weekend has been one big flurry of activity.  I watched some really great kids graduate from high school, sitting with some really great co-workers.  Really, you should be as fortunate as I am to love a job so much.  And I really, really do.  My DD came home from a trip with her BFF's.  We cooked out and made ice cream.  We tried to eat outside last night but got rained on.  The guys worked in the yard, we ALL did some much needed spring cleaning, we watched some episodes of SNL (the first season), and had a family meeting.  This was all yesterday.  Part of the family meeting was satisfying my DS's merit badge for Boy Scouts, one he needs to earn his Eagle badge - which we are well on our way with.  I say "our" because the parents are highly involved with this process."  One thing we had to do was pick a project to complete as a family.  I want to redecorate and repurpose a room in the house but the guys were soooo not interested in that.  So I was reading the little guide book and it suggested teaching the family how to preserve food through canning and freezing.  I have done that a good bit before I started to work full-time and the kids always like the results (pear preserves - yum) so they decided we would do that as a family project.  It should be interesting.

So today is the quiet.  DH has gone to the office, DD and DS have gone to the movies and to run some errands, and I get to enjoy my house and the quiet-ness.  I will probably finish up another step of the spring cleaning, but I am also getting to read a book and will watch some food network before everyone gets home.  I will also sit down at the piano and see if I can find any music in my fingers and work on regaining some skill and dexterity.

I do love these days.

Inspiration

I've spent my day off being utterly lazy but reading the blogs of people on the same journey I am on - namely weight loss.

Some of them are pretty depressing, actually. But our stories aren't so different. Some of us have a genetic predisposition for gaining weight, having inherited sorry metabolisms from our grandmothers and mothers - hello, diabetes? You are NOT invited to my house. Thanks, and buh-bye.

But also connected to our stories is how we have perpetuated our own demise, weight-wise, by continuing the bad habits taught to us by our fore-mothers. Interesting that fathers never come up in these stories? The only food I ever connect with my Daddy was his overly burnt barbeque chicken he always made. I thought it was mighty tasty but definitely not the comfort food my maternal grandmother (a diabetic) made. Oh how I miss her chicken and dumplings. And her, too. I miss her. But I digress.

There is also a turning point (hence the name of this blog) where we truly see ourselves in our completely unhealthy lives and know something has to give. I have been praying to lose weight for years. Then I got sick - with a metabolic chronic illness and gained even more weight. 35 pounds over the course of almost 4 years. You know what? At least 20 of those I put on myself through my own stupidity. Then my prayers changed - "heal me" what ever form that is and a transformation began.

First it began in my heart. I developed compassion for those with chronic illness, including my diabetic mother. To understand her, I needed to walk her path (or at least part of it).

I learned what real, unabating pain was like. It goes beneath the physical into your emotions, into your soul.

Then I began completely trusting God for my healing. Yes, I still take my medication and see the chiropractor for my pain, because He provided those for me so I can live a complete and whole life. BAM! Blessings began to pour out on my head. And I continued to gain weight.

When I became obvious that this was the last part of my healing - I prayed once again. Show me the way and I can't do this by myself. On that day, after much overindulgence, I marched myself to this laptop and signed up for Weight Watchers online. No meetings! I can do it in the comfort of my own home and on my own scale. So for 5 1/2 months I have been following this lifestyle.

Lifestyle, you say? Yes. This is not a diet. This is a live-it. I will need to live like this the rest of my life. And I am so happy to do it. I had to accept that when I get to my goal I will need to modify this live-it to maintain my weight, but I can never go back to the way I was. Why not? Because it was killing me. God made me for a higher purpose than that. My husband deserves it. My kids deserve it. And I deserve it.

My daily prayer? "Lord Jesus I need you today to help me make the right choices." It goes beyond food. But food is part of it. With His help, I will make it and I will honor Him while I do it.

Got some catching up to do

Let myself get behind on some stuff but I think over the next day or two I'll catch up.

Oh and great celebration: My DH is 45 tomorrow. I think he is cuter than when I met him 29 years ago. Yessirree.

Yeah.... but

My DH used to tell me my favorite word was "yeahbut", which meant I was about to argue with him about whatever point he was trying to make. Sometimes I was right. Sometimes he was. YES I CAN ADMIT I AM WRONG ON RARE OCCASIONS!

Well... today has been internet-less because DH's wonderful IT people were sending updates and it messed with our modem although it SAID we were CONNECTED. He is away and tells me to reset the modem. It takes 15 seconds. I saw that's not the problem... he says what if it is and at least I did everything I could. I say "Yeah... but". He says to quit arguing and just do it. Well... I'm updating my blog. He was right. Darn it. And YAY because I'm connected. Darn it.

****

I shared on my fb a piece of my testimony that included a precious memory of my Aunt E. I loved her and I miss her. She died the month after I graduated from high school. She was dying of brain cancer and was having trouble remembering anything. Her name. Our names. She had a little eraser with a lion on it that said, "I'm a king's kid." She looked at us right before her surgery and said to us, "I may not remember my name. I may not remember who you are, but I'm the king's kid and that's all that matters." Then she placed that eraser on HER HEAD where that tumor was. I never knew what happened to that eraser, but my sister recently read that note I wrote... and I didn't know it.

So, my dad came to visit and said N. has a present for you. It was a camo Georgia Bulldogs purse - very cute indeed. And my DD started getting texted by my sis. DD keeps saying to look in the purse and see how much space it has. We kind of wrestled over it because I just KNEW she wanted it for herself. So we look in the very roomy bag and there is an unmarked envelope. When I opened it there was a very old eraser with a lion and the remains of the words "I'm a king's kid." I was speechless. So I called me sister and asked where she found it. She said after reading my note she was a puddle of tears and set about finding that eraser - our mother saved EVERYTHING. She couldn't find it. Then early this week she needed something out of an old desk of my dad's. She looked in and that eraser was staring back up at her.

It is probably one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received. And when I remember all the times I told God "yeah.... but" I will look at this eraser that I have not seen in 23 years. And I will surrender.