We're Halfway There...

Many of the activities that we participate in have a halfway point. A certain mark or time where half of it is done and there's only half more to go. We countdown the time until the end. This maybe makes us feel better. Long trips need a halfway point so that they don't seem as long. Football games need a halfway point so that there's hope of another chance, or there's only half of the time left to defend your lead.  Wednesday is a really important halfway point...almost to the weekend!

Sometimes the halfway point doesn't make us feel better. Like on my running app. When I already ran seventeen and a half minutes, and my app declares "you've reached the halfway point" I maybe want to cry a little. Sure, I'm thrilled that I've already ran seventeen and a half minutes. But I'm also wrecked thinking that I have to run seventeen and a half more. Perspective of halfway points sometimes shifts, depending on the outcome.

This journey that I have been on has reached two important halfway points. I've been going to WeightWatchers meetings for a whole year. I just had my one year anniversary of this round of joining. When I stepped on the scale and looked through my record books, what a journey I've been on! My books are filled with ups and downs, and more ups and more downs. But overall the trend has been loss. In one year I have lost fifty-five pounds. I'm halfway there. Halfway to where I want to be. When all is said and done, I want to have lost 110 pounds. My first reaction about this realization is happiness! Joy! Pride! And then I start thinking harder, and Satan takes my thoughts and quickly turns the positive ideas into negatives. I'm only halfway there in one year?! I know so-and-so has lost way more in less time. So it could be another year or more for me? What if I can't do it? Maybe I should just quit. I don't want to have to count points and write everything I eat down for the rest of my life. Only halfway...

And then there's my running app. Also this week I reached the halfway mark of my Couch to 10K app. I successfully completed the 5K portion of the app and started week 9, Day one. The first run is running two intervals of twenty minutes. I was so proud of being halfway done! And then once again Satan took over my thoughts and it turned to, I'm running for 30, 35, 40 minutes and that's ONLY halfway? There's no way I could run for 60 minutes straight! That's a whole hour. I'll never get there! Only halfway...

Perspective turns this halfway mark into the whole glass half empty or glass half full debate. Am I excited to be this far along and my glass is half full of pride and joy and elation? Or am I dreading what is to come in the next half and my glass is half empty? It all depends on who is filling my head and my heart at that moment. 

God sees me as half full! I'm halfway to where He wants me to be! He wants us to take care of our bodies. 1 Corinthians 6:19 states that our bodies are temples for the Holy Spirit...we should take care of our temples. Father God wants me to be strong and healthy. He wants us to love ourselves just as much as He loves us. He wants us healthy and rested and ready to serve in His kingdom. 

Satan sees me as half empty! I'm halfway from where I should be. He has me focus on the struggles. The early mornings. The days I feel like I'm starving. The long lonely runs. The aches and pains. He wants us sick and tired and unable to help God in His kingdom. He wants us to be selfish and poor witnesses of our testimonies. 

I get sucked in easily to Satan's ways. I often think I'm not good enough. I can't do this. It's no use! I'm not going to like myself any better in 55 pounds than I do now. He has me stand in front of the mirror and see the sagging skin and the fat just shifting places. He has me hear cutting words of how these changes aren't going to change the way I feel deep in my soul. He has me giving me up and quitting because I don't want to do this every day for the rest of my life. 

But Jesus fights back and he tells me that I'm good enough. That I'm just the way He wants me to be. That I should love myself now and that I'll love myself even more as I get healthy and stronger for him. That I can do anything I set my mind to and that I am strong and beautiful. When I look into His mirror He erases the stretch marks and dimples and fat and shows me glowing and happy and wearing His crown as a daughter of the King!

I'm halfway from where I want to be. The journey won't be easy and there will always be two sides to the halfway point, two glasses either full or empty, two mirrors showing two stark contrasts of myself. I get to choose! With the help of my Heavenly Father, I get to choose my story! I get to choose my message in my mess. I get to write my testimony with Him!

I'm halfway there! And I'll keep running the race to the end. One of my favorite verses is Isaiah 40:31 which says "But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings of eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." I'll keep running, past the halfway point. And when the race is over, it'll be great to think back and reflect on this halfway point. To see how far I have come and all the struggles and adversity that I overcame. 

We're halfway there...start writing your last half right now from today!

The Sound of Silence...

There's a line in Taylor Swift's song "Story of Us" that says "I've never heard silence quite this loud."  Do you know what that sounds like? What that feels like? The deafening roar of silence where you are just praying that something, anything makes a noise and cracks the tension in the air. This sort of silence is not usually something positive. This silence sneaks in, comes into the room when you least expect it. I have experienced such silence. 

It's terrifying. You are left unable to breathe, feeling like you are being crushed under the weight of the blackness. Feeling like your lungs are filling with water and that you'll drown in the quiet all around. When you've been diagnosed with PTSD, the sound of silence can be part of the reoccurrence that you experience in a flashback. My ears are usually the first thing to lose their sense when I'm in these moments of paralyzing fear. It feels like there's water in my ears. It feels like my ears are muffled and ringing all at the same time. The sound of silence. 

There are many people who I'm assuming are affected by this sound of silence. Just this past Sunday we honored the memory of those lost in the terror attacks of 9/11. There was a speech by President Obama, giant flags, tears rolling down cheeks, and the sound of silence, a moment of silence for those we lost. Memories of that day flooded quickly in as these events took place. Where were you? Who were you with? What did you feel afterwards? The shock settling in, and the sound of silence. Reoccurrence of the sound of silence for the people who grieve the loss of all those precious lives. 

Just this past week I experienced this sound of silence again. Helping Amelia with her Washington State History homework, she had to create a timeline of her life. 2010, in her innocent 9-year-old scribbled handwriting, were the words "my dad died" and the silence creeped in. Not that I didn't know it was coming. Not that I wasn't expecting it. But her tear-filled eyes as she read it to me, and exclaimed that she would be the only one in her class with that on her timeline. We hugged each other. And prayed together. And swam through the sound of silence arm in arm. 

But, as I've stated before, our story doesn't end here. Our story doesn't drown in the sound of silence. Our story has made its way into a difference silence. The silence of the peace that passes all understanding. The silence of peace from our Heavenly Father. The silence that comes from being whole and healed and a daughter of the King! The silence of a quiet moment of prayer, when all the rest of the world is blocked out and the darkness and hate and anger and thoughts of evil slough away. The sound of silence where you hear angels singing and our sweet Father's voice filling you with His promises! 

We are making it, a day at a time, marching through our timeline and putting space between 2010 and where we are headed. God has big plans for Amelia. He will hold her hand and carry her through and grant her the peaceful sound of silence.  And each step I take with Father God is another step toward victory with Him. The sound of silence used to swallow me whole, make me feel all of those feelings explained in the initial part of this post. There are times, like this week, that I get caught up in the dark, swirling waters all over again, but I spend most of my time now in the peaceful silence with God. 

Find yourself there too! Spend time with Him and talk to Him and let Him carry you out of the unbearable sound of silence into the silence of His peace! He's waiting for you...

So Glad We Made It...

It's back to school season! As I'm typing this, my two not-so-little-anymore girls are sitting in their Welcome Back chapel service at their school, buses are driving past my house practicing routes and getting ready to pick up students tomorrow, and my Facebook feed is full of my teacher friends whining a bit about starting tomorrow and either frantically putting together the last finishing touches on their classrooms, or squeezing out those last few precious moments of summer with friends and family. Me? I am anxiously awaiting the clock ticking to tomorrow morning when I get to see my little people's smiling faces and welcome in the start of a brand new school year. 

When you're a teacher, the start of the year in September has just as much meaning, if not more, that the start of the year in January. Each time period is the start of something new! A chance to start over. Or a chance to start again. It is a new opportunity to push the reset button and begin again.

My girls and I put together our Rememberlutions jars at the January time. But we also develop family goals in August at the start of a new school year. Things we'd like to do with our weekends and our free time. Practices and habits we'd like to get into as we start back to schedules and consistent routines. Family moments we'd like to try and see through for the coming school year. Some of our goals this school year? Eating breakfast together. Waking up early so I can not feel rushed in the morning. Bible study before bedtime. Family devotion. Maybe starting up our Rememberlutions jars that sort of drifted off in April. 

It's important to have goals and targets. Things that you want to accomplish. It gives you an endpoint, something to aim for as we are wandering through life. I have always been goal driven. I always work better when I know that I am working towards something. I think that's part of the reason why our little family had such a hard time after Brian died. I didn't have a goal or a vision. I didn't know what the future held for us. And as hard as I tried to come up with things, my only goals some mornings was to drag myself out of bed and don't forget to breathe. 

Luckily, during that time our God had a goal for my family. God had plans for us.  Plans for us to prosper and grow. Plans for us to pull through as a family unit with help from the people that love us. Plans to make it through the mess and have opportunities to share our message with others. Much like the beginning of the school year, God knew that even though our slates had been wiped clean and there was no lesson plans in sight, he new the new year was just around the corner. We needed to aimlessly get through our "summer" with no schedule and no routines and make it back to the first day of school. And make it back we did! We are stronger than ever, continuing to grow in His love and realize His plan for us. We have been on the right track for some time now, realizing our potential together and all that we have to accomplish in His name now that we have been gifted living, not just existing! Such an exciting time!

So, as my teacher friends drag their feet just a little, and want anything in the world but to trade in beaches and sleeping in for white boards and lesson plans, I hope that realize what amazing work they have to do! It's time to be done wandering aimlessly through our summers and return to school! Make goals for themselves and their children, and make it the best year yet!

Amelia's words coming out of fourth grade yesterday: "Mommy, I think this is going to be the best year yet!" Amen, sweet Amelia! God walked us, carried us through the worst time in our lives and we have been blessed with the best year yet, year after year! I am thrilled to be starting work, getting back on routine, and starting the best year yet! Once again, I get to start over and make this year my best year yet, and hopefully bless my kids at home and at work with their best years yet!

Jeremiah 29:11 says "For I know the plans I have for you..." He knows those plans for my year, and beyond, and I am honored to serve those years out for Him! The best is yet to come! Living in the promises of my Heavenly Father means that each day can be better than the one before! I'm so glad we made it through our darkness to where we are today! So glad we made it!

Best year yet...

Who You'd Be Today...

When you are in a season of redefining yourself sometimes that is all you think about. I admit that I can be a bit obsessive about that stuff when I'm in a time of change. Losing weight and exercise is my season of change right now. I love how I'm feeling and looking and that is what I think about. I live and eat and breathe this process. When I'm on, I'm on. I can resist any temptation. I can run the best runs. I can get up at any time in the morning to run. I can eat a billion pounds of vegetables and drink all of my water and much more! Changing for the better feels so good! I love who I am becoming as I wade through this process.

Change is inevitable. Difficult, but inevitable. Sometimes, such as the process I've described above, change is voluntary. I am sick of being fat and sedentary. So I started the process of change. I intentionally have been doing what I need to do to eat better and lose weight. I am making a concerted effort to workout every day or every other day, depending on my routine. I am trying to make better food choices. I am meaning for this change to happen.

Sometimes, change is forced. Sometimes we are thrown into the process of change not by any fault of our own.  There's a catalyst that shoves us into a rapidly evolving lifestyle and suddenly we are fighting to keep everything upright, to right our sails, to keep all of our plates spinning, to keep a perfect balance of everything. And we become different people. Not necessarily because we want to, but because we HAVE to.  After Brian died and in the weeks and months and even years that followed, I had many people say to me "You've changed...we want the old Tammy back." And I would pause, and stare for a while, and smile. All the while inside I was screaming "SO DO I!" I would have given anything to rewind and go back to my old life. Old Tammy. Old Brian. Old, happy, quaint, perfect life. 

Now? Now looking back, I wouldn't go back for anything. How I have grown! How my girls have grown! How my relationships have grown! When you go through a process like what my family has been through, you do change. You value relationships more. You find out who your true friends and family are. You choose the best parts of you and try and focus on those. 

It's not all sunshine and roses though. With any change there are, uhh, let's call them growing pains. The path to who I am today is littered with pain and tears and darkness and terrible thoughts. It was a dark, scary time. There were days I didn't know if I could go on. There were day I would stand and look at my life and wonder who I was. There were moments of shame and guilt and depression. But each second of those days, each step that I took forward, was another step towards who I am today. 

School starts for me today. No students yet but I get to go back to work with my work family and start planning my new year with my speech babies. A fresh chance to start anew! It grants us all a natureal beginning. A moment to think about who you want to be a year from now. Or maybe that time chunk is too much to think about. Who do you want to be by January 1st? Or maybe even by October 1st?

Admitting to you all that typing that last date just brought tears is hard. October 1st. I never thought I would be scared of a date on the calendar. The day that Brian told me what he had done. The day that I didn't know who my husband was anymore and would set the course for the next almost six years, as I am still on that course. Brian ended his life. That was the course that he chose. And when I look at all that has happened in six years for me, it pains my heart to think about Brian and wonder who he's be today. All the changes that I've been through, the finding myself and raising my babies and getting seizures and finding a deeper relationship with my Heavenly Father. It hurts to think that had Brian chose something different, who would he be today? But it wasn't part of God's plan for him to find that out. It was part of God's plan for me and Amelia and Emerson to find out who we are, and who we will become. 

So back to the first day of work! For all of my work friends, today is the first day of this school year for us. Who do you want to be? We walk through the doors of our new school to changes. Changes that we maybe didn't want. Changes that may impact us. We have an opportunity to ebb and flow and decide who we want to be as a staff in October or January or June. Let's embrace it together and make good changes!

But also, you have the chance to stand right now and decide who do you want to be? What changes do you want to make? Would you rather make voluntary changes now or have to adjust your sails when forced changes happen later. Any to improve mentally-emotionally? Find a counselor, sign up to take a class, so some yoga! Physically? Talk to me about my Couch to 10K app, sign up for kickboxing (I did!), change your eating habits. Spiritually? Let's form a Bible study at work, find a new church, work on your relationship with Father. Become who you would like to be. 

Take today and jot down your goals for the next little bit and decide where you want to be. So that when January first rolls around you don't have to wonder who you'd be today. You'll know! You'll know that you are healthy and confident and strong and bettering yourself! First day back at work! Such an exciting day!! The first day of forever! The first day to make you who you want to be! The first day! Who will you be? Who will you be...

Piece By Piece...

Yesterday the girls and I went with some friends to the Pacific Science Center and walked through The Art of the Brick exhibit there. If you haven't heard of this, it is a gallery of pictures and sculptures by an artist named Nathan Sawaya. His medium? Legos! 

The beginning of the exhibit starts with a video about how he came to be a master Lego builder and the process he uses to build his creations. The first room is filled with famous paintings that he replicated using Legos: Mona Lisa, Starry Night and many more. Then a room of sculptures in Lego: David, the ceiling of the Cistene chapel. Next a room of common objects: an apple, a pencil, and table with fruit. 

A couple more rooms of amazing art pieces separated that and the room titled "The Human Condition." This room proved to be difficult to walk through, and awe-inspiring all at the same time. The pieces were all people in various stages. A group of people standing together that, from a distance, made a picture of an eye. A person with their knees drawn up and their eyes covered talked about how children cover their eyes to feel safe. A man climbing a ladder that was physically attached to his head, stating that within every person is the ability to climb up and out of whatever on their own. And a picture of a red person on a gray background, with red pieces being blown away with a statement that said life blows through and chips away at all of us and we cannot let it take pieces of us with it. Tears and goosebumps and subtle pains in my heart as I stared at each one and took in the message. And then the thought that a blog post was happening spilled from my lips to my friend. And I shared with her that just that morning, I had been given the title "Piece By Piece"...and so goes the post. 

Legos. Tiny little blocks. Mr. Sawaya took piles of little plastic blocks and started forming an object, telling a story, creating something that moved other people. Just like life. Life is filled with tiny moments, little snippets of time and experiences, telling a story and creating something that moves people. 

Life! Piece by piece you make a life for yourself. Little moments in time weave together and soon you begin to see the beautiful tapestry that is the story of you! Smiles and tears. Laughter and crying. Brief scenes from your life. Being born. School. Church. College. Marriage. Kids. Divorce. Death. Little moments that are built together and when you step back, your masterpiece is there before you! A picture comes to focus of who you are, who you should be. 

But, what happens when someone removes a piece? The museum workers at the beginning of the tour were very adamant about not touching the pieces. Carry your backpacks in the front so as to not accidentally bump into the pieces. Walk carefully. Watch your children. Because what if? What if someone were to bump the giant dinosaur that was made from 80,000 Lego pieces. What if someone removed one piece from the middle of The Scream? What would happen? The whole sculpture or the whole painting could be destroyed. It could tumble to the ground. And let's not mention how its value would diminish. 

My masterpiece felt done a few times. I was on my way to being the most successful pediatric oncologist the world has ever seen (in my head). And then someone removed a piece of my masterpiece, my sculpture fell and shattered into a million pieces, and that dream vanished. 

I started building a new sculpture, one with a husband and two children. And a piece was bumped out of place. The husband piece went missing. The work, in my eyes, had diminished value. Again this happened?! Why bother working so hard to rebuild life piece by piece to just have it destroyed in the blink of an eye. 

The art of the brick. Having an eye for being able to build something so amazing with seemingly little effort. That is what I have been doing for the last six years. Finding the message in my mess. Finding the test in my testimony.  Building my life back up, piece by piece. I could have given up. Switched to a different medium. Left my life in a pile of broken pieces on the floor. But I have fought to rebuild. To pick up piece after piece, look to see if they still fit into the big picture, and putting them back together. Some of them fit perfectly and get to stay. Some of them aren't helpful to the final product anymore and get discarded, not thrown away, but saved for perhaps another masterpiece down the road. 

Piece by piece I am building life for me and my children again.  It's not easy to rebuild after so many setbacks. It's sad and painful and you long to just have the masterpiece you had built last time. In a mere six minutes, the clock will stroke midnight and the calendar page will flip to August 5th. I should be celebrating what would have been my 10th wedding anniversary. I should be waking up to kisses from my husband and flowers being delivered at some point in the day. But instead, I'll be on my knees, sifting through pieces, looking for the new piece to fill that blank part in my masterpiece. The piece that previously held Brian. 

The girls and I are rebuilding, one brick at a time. And we have the best project manager a family could wish for. Our Heavenly Father is watching us build our life, our story, one brick, one piece at a time. He is watching us gently lay each brick, each moment, into the canvas that is our life. We are rebuilding life how we want it, life that matches the master plans that God is showing us. We are making the pieces come together to do something great!

Amelia and Emerson are getting to help choose the pieces. And someday they will break their pieces off and independently work towards their own creations. They will have moments where their art starts to crumble. Where they won't know if it's worth starting over. And if you ever see them in those moments stop and help them with their pieces. We need each other sometimes and we need your signature, your touch on our lives, in our creations!

So tomorrow, I will keep building, making new memories for August 5th, but I will also be sad for the pieces that were there and are no longer part of my final product. I miss my husband pieces. I miss Brian and the life we were supposed to have together. I know that I had to have those pieces, though, to get the pieces that I have today! The Amelia and Emerson pieces are my favorite part of the design right now! 

Piece by piece...with the help from my master designer, I will keep putting my pieces together to make my masterpiece! I will keep moving forward, one piece at a time. And I pray that no one bumps the table and send it all crashing down again. But, if that happens, my Heavenly Father will be there to scoop me out of the rubble, set me on my feet, and hand me that first brick to start rebuilding. I am strong and I am smart and I am faithful. I know the final product will be well worth the struggle of putting it together!

Piece by piece...

This is My Fight Song...

Fight or Flight: This is a physiological reaction that occurs in response to a perceived harmful event, attack, or threat to survival. It is a response to protect us from perceived danger. Something happens and our brain signals us to either run or get ready to fight. This response is brought on by fear or pain or stress. It is a basic survival instinct.

Unless you're stuck in fight or flight mode for an extended period of time. Like I was. I have been stuck in fight or flight mode for years. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder does that to you. A whole bunch of yuck right in a row does that to you. You get stuck in fight or flight. I spent so much time just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The first few events that happened, my daddy would hold me tight and kiss my forehead and say "Well, honey...it can't get any worse..." After the third pretty big event I begged him to never say it again because apparently, it could get worse. 

Did you know there's research that shows that trauma and PTSD and getting stuck in fight or flight mode can actually rewire the neurons in your brain? I didn't know that either until I was diagnosed with seizures. I didn't think I had a history of seizures. They told me they were stress induced. The stress of the last how many ever years had taken its toll on me and my brain was rewired and misfiring, causing seizures. I lost so many days...months...years of my life! Moments I won't get back again. Moments my children won't get back again. Moments my family and friends won't get back again. 

So many people fought for me when I wasn't able to fight. I was on so many medications, so many drugs to stop the seizures. To keep my brain and body safe and asleep from the trauma that was tearing it to pieces and leaving me a shell of who I used to be. Everyone always complements me and tells me how strong I was in that time. In all honesty, they have no idea. And really I have no idea. They have no idea that I am missing chunks of time. No idea that many times my babies would find me in a room or in a hallway and would have to call for help. No idea that I just wanted to die and be done with the pain and confusion and not remembering. No idea that I was the furthest from strong that I could be. Not strong...just well-loved by a villiage of people who made me look ok. 

We finally were led to doctors and neurologists who were smart and knew things. They balanced my medications and forced me to go to the therapy I had been avoiding and things were ok. My seizures slowed and life went on, with an only occasional blip on my radar that anything was wrong. 

My whole perspective and my whole life has changed in the last few years. I'm no longer stuck in fight or flight, no longer using every ounce of strength I have to survive the day and to slay demons. Don't get me wrong, I still have PSTD moments that make me freeze and panic and stiffen every muscle in my body, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I'm not living in that space constantly. I have found happiness and love and joy again. I am living when for so many years I was barely surviving. I was only walking through my day hoping I remembered to keep breathing and offer up fake smiles to people so everyone would think I was just fine. 

But now I am living! I am living every moment of every day as much as I can. Therapy has done wonders to free me from a lot that I was carrying. My smart neuros and other doctors have figured out a lot for me. Weight Watchers and my Facebook weight loss support group has help me lose 55 pounds. My Couch to 5K app has helped me begin running and actually not hate running. And the coordinator of all of this? My Heavenly Father who has orchestrated all of this plan, all of my fight or flight moments, into a life of peace and joy and love. How much lost time I have to make up for!

Back in March, I heard a voice and felt a tug at my heart that I needed to wean myself off of my Lyrica. I was on this drug for nerve pain and also a supplemental seizure med. My heart sank and I was terrified but in faith, I slowly dropped my dose of Lyrica until I wasn't on anymore. In June I had an appointment with my neurologist at Swedish. He was amazed at how well I was doing and we talked about my stress levels and that perhaps with my stress levels kept low, I could wean off of my Lamictal. The last layer of seizure drugs I was on. My heart flip-flopped as he wrote out my plan to be done, free of all seizure meds. I was filled with fear and apprehension. What if I had a seizure? What if it didn't work? What if I ended up right back where I was when we started?

But a voice in my head whispered: "But what if you don't? What if you put your faith and trust in Me and continue on this path to healing and all will be just fine?"

So with prayer and a little dose of panic I followed the plan. I took my last Lamictal this morning. Tears of joy! Tears of happiness! Tears of thankfulness! Tears of praise to my Heavenly Father for walking beside me on this journey, and carrying me through all the trauma and pain and sadness over the years. 

My fight song...the song in my heart through the years has been my fight song. So many times I wanted to run away. I wanted to be done. I wanted to tap out and just finally be at peace. Something inside of me kept making me fight. Kept telling me to not give up. That the end would be worth it if I could just keep going. I've got a lot of fight left in me, but I don't need to fight. I don't need to fight! I need to let go and let God step in for me. He has this wonderful, amazing plan for me. Knowing that my story doesn't end the way Satan wanted it to end fills my heart with purpose and joy. I know that God has a plan for me! He walked with me through hell and back, carrying me in those moments that I don't remember. Carrying my daughters in the moments they were so scared and afraid. Carrying us through those moments we thought we were alone.

Praises to Father God are my fight song. Knowing that I don't have to fight is my fight song. Understanding the peace which surpasses all understanding is my fight song. The faces of my children are my fight song. Looking in the mirror and loving who I see is my fight song.

No more fight or flight. No more rewired neurons. No more seizure drugs. No more being a victim. Finding the message in my mess has brought me more peace and healing than any earthly drug could ever bring. 

My fight song...I've still got a lot of fight left in me, but I don't need that fight! I just need His peace...His peace. 

Take a Number...

From the day we are conceived, our existence is reduced to a number. Eager moms and dads take guesses on how much the baby will weigh or how long they will be or what their birthdate will be. Then we are born and the proud parents announce: 9 pounds, 7 ounces and 20.5 inches long! Oftentimes before we even share what the name is, we are giving the baby's stats. 

Shortly after birth, parents complete paperwork and the baby is assigned his or her social security number that will follow them throughout their entire life. 

When we enroll at school, we are given a student number. In our district, and probably most districts, our children are assigned three numbers: a district ID, a state ID, and a federal ID. These student numbers roll into middle and high school also. We are then given a student number when we enroll in college. Mine was also part of my library system and my bus pass. 

Other numbers we are assigned: grade point averages, class rankings, test scores, bank account numbers, drivers license numbers, credit card numbers, license plate numbers, computer passwords, addresses and phone numbers...how we keep all these things straight I'll never know. I had a mini panic attack when I heard that our credit union changes our debit card number when they issue our new cards! I have just a few more months before I'll have to memorize all that information again. 

There's one number that takes the forefront of my mind always, and I suspect it's in the minds of a lot of other people. It's the very first number I talked about: our weight. When you are on a weight loss journey, your entire identity is wrapped up in that number sometimes. I used to own a scale. It got to the point in my journey that I was weighing several times a day. The day I caught myself weighing before a meal and determining if I was going to eat or not based on the number is the day I threw my scale in the garbage can. I no longer own a scale. I weigh in one day a week at my Weight Watchers meeting and that is all. 

It's taken my losing and gaining and re-losing weight my whole life to finally start to realize that I am more than a number on a scale. That's a hard lesson because that number does try hard to define us, doesn't it?  When I started with the school district my number was 361. That was a tough number to swallow but it was my number. The day I married Brian I was 219. The lowest of my adult life, or quite possibly ever. I'm told I was only 7 pounds, 14 ounces at birth but I don't remember that...I remember vividly though as I stood on the scale as a sophomore in high school and the scale read 241. I hate that weight is so critical to me that I remember these. 

Weight Watchers has been using a new program called Beyond the Scale. The idea behind it is to not give the number so much power. We talk a lot of feelings and emotions and exercise and things other than the scale. Getting away from the mindset that whatever that number says on that scale is going to determine how you feel about yourself or how you feel about your week. I have learned for myself that there are so many other more important pieces to this journey than just watching the scale go down. So many other numbers, in fact. 

54: I have lost 54 pounds since September. I am proud of that number and I try hard to remember that number when the scale doesn't reflect the work that I've put in in any given week. 

128: That's how much lighter I am today from my highest weight ever and I've maintained a big chunk of that loss over the years, fighting to not get above 300 ever again. 

87: The number of runs I have logged on my Couch to 5K/10K apps. 

5: MPH - I've increased my sprint runs to this since September, up from 2.5. 

27.5 - That is my total inches lost from my body in the last 24 weeks. If you are on a weight loss journey you have to start doing measurements because even if the weight stops falling off for a while, I've still kept losing inches. 6 3/4 inches alone have been dropped from my waist. 

These numbers are numbers that I am so very proud of. They are numbers that keep me going when it gets rough. They make me think twice about my food and exercise choices. They are the things that keep driving me forward in my goals and in my plan to be better. 

But, these numbers aren't even the important numbers. They are just numbers and while they may tell part of my story and they may be a little bit about who I am, they still don't define me as a person. They are all just measurements of accomplishments. They are all just stepping stones to a final goal in a journey. 

Want to know some numbers that mean something to me? Numbers that define me? Numbers that make me who I am?

John 3:16 - defines me as a child of God. That I have someone who loves me so deeply He sacrificed His one and only Son for my sins. 

Jeremiah 29:11 - defines me as someone who is important to God. That He has plans for me. Good plans! And wants what is best for me. 

Matthew 28:20 - defines me as never alone. God will be with me to very end of time. 

Psalm 23 - defines me as being a part of God's family, someone He takes care of and walks through life with. 

Matthew 6:26 - defines me as important again. God takes care of each little bird and they do not want for food or shelter and how much more important we are to God!

Isaiah 41:10 - defines me as strong in the Lord. I should not be afraid for God gives me strength and help. 

Philippians 4:13 - defines me as powerful with the help of God for there is nothing I can't do without Him by side. 

These numbers are what are important! These numbers carry the many messages from God of my worth and my value. My weight? Not important! How fast I run a mile? Not important! The measurement of my waist? Not important!

God says I am important. God says I am worthy. God says I am loved and treasured. And that doesn't hinge on what the scale says. Loved no matter what! Saved no matter what! Treasured no matter what! You just have to give your heart and faith and trust to Him! He loves you. So very much! And it is so good and so beautiful in His love! Finding my place as a daughter of the King was the first step I needed to take in my life. Pressing into Him and reading His word and praying and talking to Him was the first piece that fell into place. The rest of it all - the running and scale going down and feeling healthier than I have felt in forever? Those all came in quick succession to leaning into my Heavenly Father!

Join me on my journey! Experience this intense love and joy and happiness and health that I have found for myself! He wants it for all of His children! I want you to experience this too! Let me help you on your journey! Let me help you find Him and all of the blessings that flow freely from Him!

No need to take a number...His kingdom is open for all whenever you are ready!