The Island Is So Beautiful

Until it kills you...

I know, sounds dramatic.  But I've been thinking about this and it's serious stuff. 

There is this cool place, in the middle of nowhere.  Well, actually, it's in the middle of our heads and it has just enough room for one person.  It's comfortable there, the temperature is just right, the lemonade is so cold and frosty, there is just enough noise to make it feel like someone else is there with you.  But in reality, there isn't anyone else but you.  What a shame. 

That island has everything we want, but it doesn't have everything we need.  Yes, it's climate controlled and, yes, the food is just right and, yes, we can think clearly, but it's our comfort zone and it will kill us if we don't release ourselves from it.  

Eventually, the comfort zone becomes the kill zone because it has no way of replenishing itself.  It needs an outside source to provide all of those little comforts.  

 I've heard it said that living on a deserted island is one of the "hardest things a person could do" and that ending up on this island is usually the result of a tragedy.  One thing that really struck me was this: "one wrong move or decision and it might be your last."


I think this is pretty telling.  Makes complete sense.  If there is no one else around...

 So, I'm sitting here thinking about all the times that I wanted to fold up into myself and put the lock on so no one else can bother me or make me extend out from myself.  How unhealthy is that?  Humans have a beautiful mutuality about them.  We were made to benefit from each other.  So, this whole, leave-me-alone-because-I-can't-stand-the-fact-you're-breathing-the-same-air-I-am just can't work now...can it?  
*sigh* I suppose that I will have to reconsider the beautiful little island population "me" and maybe it's not so good after all.  
Ok, ok, fine, I'll open up a little and allow people in, allow them to love me, allow them to give to me and then, give of myself a little because it feels so good and so right.


And I leave you all with this last thought from a Mr. Hillary --

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.  
~Edmund Hillary~

I have a secret

I get emotional about certain things. 

I'm the BIGGEST baby when it comes to people struggling with weight and weight loss.  Even though I have never struggled with it, I've been in close contact with people who have/do and I see the anguish in it all.  As of late, I have become somewhat of a partner to four different women on the journey to changing their lifestyles.  I have been profoundly impacted by this partnership.  Each week we all exchange emails and tears fill my eyes as I read about their success and their struggles. 
It's NOT easy.  But it's seriously the best journey one could embark on for a complete Renaissance.  Because that's what it is, it's a "rebirth". 
Losing weight effects your mind, not just your physical state.  I have had to shed a few pounds of baby weight and through sheer determination I did.  It was not easy.  In the end, it was only 5lbs but it may as well have been 20 because they weren't coming off.  Eventually, I passed that hurdle and it felt.so.good.  Small successes are HUGE successes because it touches places deep...like your heart and your mind.  
The two things you try to guard most in your life, because they can break or become damaged.

So, that's my secret.  Shhh.  But maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who have secrets, too...but good ones that can inspire someone to change, or keep going, or to give it another try. 

Our children are our first ministry...

The words of a very wise woman. 
Spent a good hour on the phone with a woman who helped to nurture and raise me in my home church.  When our conversation came to a close, I felt like I could conquer most anything.  She wasn't full of empty praises for me; she simply shared a few of her own life's experiences.  What a rush.  I just started smiling and believing in myself and in my passions all over again.  It wasn't that I had given up or anything, but when someone reminds you of what you're made of...it's like the ultimate kick-start.

We covered so many different subjects during our conversation, but one of the last pieces of advice she offered up was, "start now, start with Cylas.  He'll be five and in five years he'll be ten.  Our children are our first ministry." 

HU.ge responsibility.  But I accept this.  It's an honor.  My husband and I have the very serious job of putting wonderful, beautiful principles into our children that will carry them on into their adulthood.  We building a foundation for them to work off of.  yipes! 
I remember my year in Europe as a foreign exchange student.
I held strong to my roots and my convictions.
It was a very revealing time for me and I thank God for the people He placed in my life at such a young age.
What a test.  But now, this year is going to be the real beginning of my little boy's journey into the big, wide world.  This September -- he's going to kindergarten.