Mary Did You Know?

Christmas is coming up fast, it seems. I feel like I am so far behind and totally not ready. Maybe it’s because it’s so warm yet. My brain thinks it’s still October. Anyway, I thought I would share a little exercise that I am doing with my friends from church – it is helping me practice gratitude and reminding me of the joy that came with the birth of Christ.

The holidays are busy for everyone and some of us fly south for the winter (not me, in case you were wondering – although with El Nino upon us, I’m not sure you can tell the difference between Florida and Wisconsin right now) so we are participating, via email, in prayerful reflection (lectio divine) over a single scripture.

The scripture we are reflecting on is this:  And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. Luke 2:1

Yeah, what a fun one…government and taxes.

But of course, we all know the “rest of the story..” (read in Paul Harvey’s voice for best results).  Because of this decree, Joseph and Mary have to schlep from Nazareth to Bethlehem of Judea – 80 odd miles via roadways made 2000 years ago (translation:  really crappy roads).  On foot.  For over a week.  During the rainy season.  Wearing layers of woolen cloaks.  Up and down and up and down hills.  Sleeping outside.  In the mud.  And the cold.  Carrying all of their own provisions.  With Mary 9 months pregnant (NINE MONTHS!).

Oh wait – they had a donkey.  That makes it so much better.

I just realized that Mary had the perfect labor and delivery story to use on Jesus.  “I had to walk 80 miles!  Pregnant!  In the rain!  Uphill!  And after we got there, we couldn’t find a hotel and ended up having you in a cave.  And then a bunch of smelly shepherds piled in and then those singing angels!  Oy!  The singing!  The noise!  The smell!  And the next day we had to go pay taxes.  TAXES!  You should be so lucky.  So don’t tell me you’re “too tired” to heal the sick.  I’ll give you “too tired….”

Meanwhile Jesus is rolling his eyes and picking at the food on his plate, wondering why all the OTHER kids get to go to the camel races.

I remember my ninth month with both of my pregnancies. I don’t recall it as being a “good time”. I certainly wouldn’t recommend it as a time for an 80 mile hike – with or without a donkey.  I couldn’t see my feet, which is surprising because they had grown a size and were swollen to the point that the only shoes that fit were Dave’s slippers. I had to pee every 5 minutes which meant I had to somehow negotiate the physics of sitting down and standing up without tipping over into the bathtub.

I couldn’t stand very long without my stomach muscles threatening to flee the country and when I sat down, my pelvis felt like it was burrowing it’s way to China. Laying down was marginally better, except the having to pee every 5 minutes thing and flopping around like a big ole fat fish trying to get out of the waterbed (a sight to see, mind you. And stop raising your eyebrows about the waterbed. This was the eighties. I’m old, remember?).

So the very idea of poor Mary and Joseph spending the last week of her pregnancy hiking thru the hills of Galilee and Judea gives me a new appreciation for my millennial comforts.  I think I shall go out in the garage and hug my car now, thank you very much.  And my accountant.  And my nice hospital where I gave birth to my children in my fancy birthing suite.  And that county road worker over there, laying down the new asphalt so I can drive my car on nice smooth roads.  Oh wait…he’s running away.  Why is he running?  Wow, he is fast!  Fine!  Don’t get your hug then!  Your loss, buddy!

So “it came to pass” that cars were invented and hospitals and accountants and yoga pants and cute maternity tunics and Skechers.  And women sometimes took these things for granted until they read about Mary and then became ever so grateful that God had allowed them to be born in a time that did not require 80 mile hikes and riding on donkeys and giving birth in caves in front of smelly shepherds because it was weird enough having half the nursing and intern staff staring at her nether regions.

May the peace and joy of our living Savior follow you throughout this holiday season, as we celebrate His humble birth.

Joyous-Grateful-Christmas-Tactically yours,

Sue

PS.

And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.  And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.  And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. – Luke 2:7-14

 

The Whiniest Israelite In All The Land

That would be me.  Well, that would be me if I was Jewish.  And if I lived during the Exodus (despite what my brother may say, I’m not that old).

This realization came to me recently while I was working on a work assignment. A really sucky work assignment.   A really sucky work assignment that was really really hard (really) and I only had one week to do it. It required hours of reading, research, analyzing, and goal setting and then writing a report to go with it.

Crack open that bottle of whine.

“I can’t play Candy Crush because I have to do reeeessseeaarchhh!”  *Throws self on floor*

“On my own tiiimmme!  At hoooommme!”  *Flail arms and legs while rolling on the floor*

“I don’t get thiiiisss!”  *dramatic adolescent foot stomping*

“This is toooo haaaarrd!”  *More arm flailing and foot stomping*

“I want to eat peanuts and read comics like all the other adults!”

“I’m just gonna quit my stupid job so I don’t have to do this.  But I need a paaaay cheeeeeeck!”  *sobs uncontrollably*

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

After I finished the report, I texted a friend saying “It’s done! It’s finally done!” to which she replied, “Are you also done with your pity party?”.  Rat bastard friends.

Every morning, I try to read a chapter from the bible. You will notice I just called my friends “rat bastards” in the previous sentence, so I feel compelled to explain the bible reading for some reason. I obviously don’t fit the traditional “holy” definition, but thankfully, God has infinite patience (along with His wisdom, mercy, love and forgiveness) and hasn’t kicked me off the island yet. We talk a lot. I get a lot of eye rolls from Him, too.

So now I’m reading Exodus. The first part of Exodus is cool. It starts with the story of Moses – rescued as an infant from the waters of the Nile, growing up in the big house, being really stupid and killing an Egyptian, running away to the desert, getting married, finding a new life and then getting called back by God to rescue his people.

But once they get into the wilderness, and God starts handing down the law, things start to get dicey from a “making sense to Sue” standpoint.  Following the law is sort of like trying to read all of the “begats” (genealogies)- I’m reading the words but they don’t mean a whole lot.

Currently, I’m reading the instructions for building the mobile temple and I feel like I need a degree in rocket science to understand it.

Example:

7 “You shall also make curtains of goats’ hair, to be a tent over the tabernacle. You shall make eleven curtains. 8 The length of each curtain shall be thirty cubits, and the width of each curtain four cubits; and the eleven curtains shall all have the same measurements. 9 And you shall couple five curtains by themselves and six curtains by themselves, and you shall double over the sixth curtain at the forefront of the tent. 10 You shall make fifty loops on the edge of the curtain that is outermost in one set, and fifty loops on the edge of the curtain of the second set. 11 And you shall make fifty bronze clasps, put the clasps into the loops, and couple the tent together, that it may be one. 12 The remnant that remains of the curtains of the tent, the half curtain that remains, shall hang over the back of the tabernacle. 13 And a cubit on one side and a cubit on the other side, of what remains of the length of the curtains of the tent, shall hang over the sides of the tabernacle, on this side and on that side, to cover it. 14 “You shall also make a covering of ram skins dyed red for the tent, and a covering of badger skins above that. – Exodus 26:7-14

Greek, right? Or Hebrew? And can we just address the elephant in the room: Badger skins??  And this is just for the curtains!  Or something!  I’m not really sure!

“Figures The erection of the Tabernacle and the Sacred vessels” by illustrators of the 1728 Figures de la Bible, Gerard Hoet (1648–1733) and others, published by P. de Hondt in The Hague in 1728 – http://www.wcg.org/images/b2/_0303160501_038.jpg. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

The entire time I’m reading it, I realized if I was an Israelite trying to decipher this, I was going to be wandering in the desert for a really, really, really, long time, because I would so be on the “Let’s build a golden calf – it sounds so much easier” band wagon.

What I wouldn’t have realized though, is that even though the rules were hard, they had a purpose.  God was trying to build a nation and to establish a way of life for a group of people who had just been slaves for hundreds of years.  They had little knowledge of government structure or how to keep a million people from starving or killing each other or how to even order their day.  Following his instruction stretched their minds, changing how they thought.  As it was, he had to provide manna and quail, water from rocks, and constant hand holding to get them to the foot of Mount Sinai (insert golden calf here).

So I felt a little better about the whole report thing. I mean, it was just a report. I didn’t have to build a temple or a whole freaking nation. Yay me!  Yay everyone else too, because the very idea of a “Sue Nation” is really rather frightening (except for the part where everyone gets to eat cake).  And just like the Israelites, researching and writing the report changed how I thought, brought in new ideas, and made me see my job from another perspective.

I also realized what a whiner I was over such trivial things like work reports when our world is faced with terrorism, war, racism, poverty, and illness.  Seriously – I should have been jumping up and down with joy over having to write that report. My rat bastard friend was right – I was having a raging pity party. And that made me wonder – how often do I complain about piddly crap like that? How ungrateful am I? How often am I whining about the glass half empty, when I could be rejoicing over the glass half full?  Or more importantly, the “cup runnething over” (Psalm 23)?

I plan to make that a daily reminder for myself: Pop a curly straw in that baby and rejoice in the glass half full. The very same RB friend who called me out on my pity party also had this remark for me – the “I get an idea and say “Okay, let’s do it”” and then she remarked “Now I didn’t say it was always a GOOD idea…” and we laughed over it because she knows me so very well. But this time I am on the money. This is a GREAT idea. For me anyway.

Love to you all.

May you have a blessed and grateful holiday season.

Sue

PS. Happy Thanksgiving!

PPS. Pie

PPSS. Mmmmmmm….pie.

Just for today…tomorrow it’s back to cake!!

Learning To Move The Bean Bowl

I bought green and wax beans the other day at the farmers market.  They call them wax beans because they are yellow and look waxy I guess.  The term ‘wax’ in reference to food grosses me out, so I prefer green and yellow.  Or better yet, green and gold (Go Pack Go! Yes, I just went there, and yes, I used my entire first paragraph to set up the Packers reference.  This is what happens when you live in the land of cheese).

I love getting fresh produce from the farmers market but it does require extra work to clean it and make it ready for consumption.  It’s not like buying a bag of Steamers and popping it in the microwave (although I do love Steamers – what an awesome invention).   Fresh food needs to be cleaned and cut and trimmed and peeled.  Kind of a pain, all this eating healthy business.  Some veggies are more of a pain than others but beans are fairly easy in the veggie cleaning line up – just wash and snap off the tops.

My process is to wash them in a colander, spread them on a clean towel, grab a few, snap off the tops and then toss the cleaned bean in a bowl and the top in a pile to the side for the garbage.  Easy peezy, lemon squeezy, right?  Well, I was cleaning my beans after I got home, and I kept accidentally throwing the beans in the garbage pile and the tops in the bean bowl.  What the heck?  After about the 10th time, I realized I had my work area set up wrong.

Green and Gold beans!

My natural tendency was to grab the beans with my left hand and snap off the tops with my right, so the bean bowl should have been to my left and the garbage pile to the right, and I had it reversed.  This would have taken about 5 seconds to rectify and ended the awkward cross reaching, plus the time-consuming need to stop what I was doing and fish the tops out of the bean bowl.  Not to mention that I was using extra energy just concentrating on my process that could have been used to create a plan for world peace and a new energy resource (HAHA.  Okay, I would have created my grocery list and a plan to clean the bathrooms but still, a better use of my time).  Instead, I stubbornly continued to clean my beans counter intuitively, swearing under my breath every time the tops ended up in the bean bowl.

After going thru 3/4 of my beans, I finally set my ego aside and fixed my workstation.  I finished the rest of my beans lickety split (I like to say that word.  Lickety split.  Or is it lickety spit? Hmmmm….).  I wasted a lot of time and effort fighting my body, but was too prideful to admit my set up was wrong and I was too lazy to expend the energy to change it, even though I used way more energy trying to fight it.  Apparently this thing on my neck really is just a helmet holder.

Helmet holder, but at least I get strawberry shortcake!

Life is like that, isn’t it?  The thought of making a change, even one that will make my life easier, seems like too much trouble and effort, so I keep on trying to control the wrong things.  I read once that a person won’t make a change until the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change.  Pain yes, but pride too.  My ego tells me my process is right and if I could just control myself, all would be well.  This is especially true in my eating habits and in my relationship with God.

I will never be able to eat normal portions if I don’t have a handle on why I am eating in the first place, and I will never be able to grow in my relationship with God if I continue to try to commune with Him according to rules and obligation.  It’s hard to change what I have always done, and the process of making that change seems overwhelming.  But like moving my bean bowl, the initial energy needed to make a change is greater, but is less overall because of the energy saved on the other side of the change.  The sooner the change, the more energy saved.  With all those energy savings, I could qualify for an Energy Star.

Thus starts my quest to move the bean bowls in my life that are causing me to stumble and seeking God for change and direction.  I don’t think it will be easy, but I believe with His help, all things are possible.  One of the biggest changes I see coming is my commitment to writing.  In fact, the very idea is giving me anxiety at this very moment.  But, you know how sometimes you crave something, like maybe a bowl of ice cream or a donut, and you decide not to have it because it’s fattening or whatever, so you eat everything else in your cupboard instead, and then end up eating the ice cream or donut anyway?  That’s what this is like.  I feel like I have spent years eating around my desire to write, thinking I would never be able to make a living at it or be good enough.  Instead I have tried to find satisfaction or direction in other areas, and while I have been successful, I am still wandering around my house opening up cupboards.

I’m scared.  I’m scared of failing, of not being good enough, of dying poor and penniless living out of a cardboard box with nothing but my thermos à la Steve Martin in The Jerk.  But I think I am more scared of not trying it.  Of never knowing.

I’m picking out a thermos, for you!

How about you?  What are the “bean bowls” in your life that need moving?  I love hearing from you!

Sue

Forgiveness for a Foodie

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. – Matthew 4:4

I want to talk about some of my favorite scriptures – you know the types I mean – the ones you cling to when the you-know-what hits the fan and your life feels like it’s spiraling out of control.  But I’m not going to today, actually.  Today, I am going to talk to you about scriptures that make your stomach clench when you read them.  The ones where you think “Is He talking to me?” with a feeling of dread because you know you have been doing your own thing and the hammer is about to fall.

And of course, God could pound me to a pulp, but He doesn’t.  Thankfully.  Or perhaps un-thankfully?  Because sometimes I feel like maybe I would rather be pounded than have to be a grown up and make my own decisions.  He allows us free will after all – freedom to turn to Him or freedom to keep wallowing in the muck of our own poor decisions.

Today’s scripture is one I read last night in the book of Matthew.  It was part of my 3×5 reading, a program I am participating in thru our church in order to read the entire bible in a year.  It’s Jesus’ response to the devil who was tempting Him to conjure up some food during his fast in the wilderness.  I can’t even make it thru a Dairy Queen commercial on a full stomach so I can’t imagine being in Jesus’ sandals.  Jesus responds with “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God”.   Ugh!  Gut jab!  I quickly kept reading, but that nagging niggle of scripture kept me from being able to concentrate on the rest.

Now you see it….

I love food, you see.  Ice cream, cake, chips, fries, hamburgers, steak, tacos, peanuts, popcorn, grapes, chocolate, hot fudge, mashed potatoes and gravy, breakfast food, dinner food, snack food, wedding food.  I. Love. Food.  And sometimes, Lord knows (truly), I love food more than spending time with God.  More than spending time with my family.  I would rather curl up with my jar of peanuts and a good book and turn off the rest of the world.  I would choose this hands down over ANYTHING else, almost all of the time, if I thought I could get away with it.  God knows.  Oh, He knows.

It’s a form of idolatry, and it’s a type of addiction, and this I know.  And yet, I find myself slipping into it time and time again.  Remember Paul, talking about the thorn in his side?  The one thing he had to fight all the time?  This is my thorn.  I have fought it my entire life.  Okay, possible exaggeration, but a good part of my life.  At least from the time I was pre-teen.

Now you don’t.

So every now and then, God gives me a “gut” check…pun intended.  When food begins to infiltrate my lifestyle and undermine my goals (not to mention HIS goals), it’s time to take a look and make some tough decisions…again.  He reminds me that if I spent as much time and energy focusing on Him that I spend focusing on food, our relationship would be bordering on the fantastic.  Which is, of course, a mutual goal between God and I – to have a closer relationship.  Kinda hard to do with an ice cream sundae the size of the Empire State Building between us.

Not by the pure force of my own will can this thorn be removed either.  I can’t do it alone, nor on my own, nor under my own strength.  I need God.  As Paul says, “…for when I am weak, then I am strong.”, in reference to God being glorified thru Paul’s weakness.  I only hope I can glorify God in mine as well.  I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

Do you have a ‘thorn’ in your life, that pulls your focus off of God or your goals?  How do you handle it?

Best,

Sue

 

Helloooooo!

Welcome to Brick House, my new blog about physical, spiritual and emotional fitness.  My name is Sue, and I started Brick House as a way to share my passion for God, help women find fun ways to get fit and motivate myself to keep fighting the battle of getting and staying fit.

I suppose you are wondering about the name “Brick House”, and that a certain song is now playing in your head (come on, sing it with me!).  I have that song on my Ipod, and every time it comes on, I think of myself and my friend Dawn – both of us bigger gals in the gym – but kicking butt and taking names all the same.  It’s become kind of my theme song – reminding me that a little “junk in my trunk” isn’t such a bad thing.

I chose the name for a couple of other reasons as well.  Remember the story of the Three Little Pigs?  If I don’t take care of myself, I will be susceptible to the huffing and puffing of the Big Bad Wolf.  He couldn’t take down the Brick House though.  Oh yeah – Bring it, Wolfie.

And finally, a bible scripture – “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” – Matthew 7:24-25  

I believe overall health hinges on our physical, spiritual and emotional well being, and I think I have spent the better part of my adult life learning that.  I want to provide a place where not only I can share what I have learned, but where you can share your insights and experiences as well.  Together, we can support one another on our fitness journeys, enabling us to move forward in spiritual, emotional and physical growth.

Here’s to a long and happy relationship!

Warm regards,

Sue