Twenty Years

     Last night, I commented on the photo below with the following comment, "this was a proud moment!"  And yes indeed, it was a proud moment!  Hannah was showing a Karate master her "yoi stance," and he was impressed.

     Yet, I have to admit that I had another brooding feeling that made me less than proud.  I was not comfortable with the way that Hannah's mother looked as she gazed upon her daughter with pride.  I had to look at the picture a few times to realize that indeed, that large woman, barely fitting in her karate gi was, in fact, me.
      As I went to sleep last night, I recalled the year between March 2008 and March 2009 when I successfully lost 60 pounds.  By the time I received my 25 pound prize from Weight Watchers, and certainly when I received the prize for 50 pounds, I had a reached a healthy place where weight loss wasn't difficult, it was just something I had learned to do.  When I learned I was pregnant in March of 2009, my midwife warned me that "fat cells have memories."  She suggested that I not gain much weight with my pregnancy, and she also warned that it would be difficult not to gain because fat cells want to return (the body craves stasis, even if that stasis is unhealthy).  2 1/2 years later, I have proven that her theory is correct; while I am still 22 pounds less than I was in March 2008, I have gained back 40 of the original 60 pounds.  I now long for those days in 08/09 when losing weight didn't seem like a chore at all.
     I have been a member of Weight Watchers since we arrived in Michigan City.  And while I am pleased that I have not gained a pound (and actually lost a few along the way), I am greatly bothered by the fact that I have not learned to embrace health again.  It is part of my psyche and concern often times during the day, but the passion and the drive from 2008/09 has not returned.
     As I reflect upon this last year of ministry, I am aware that I am focusing upon my ministry "as if my life depended upon it."  Why, last night, I lost sleep because I wasn't sure how I was going to keep the positive and welcoming energy alive with our church softball team, while remaining true to the church softball rules (which require that every member of the team be an official member of the church).  Because I spent 8 anxious months on severance pay prior to receiving my current call, ministry seems like a life or death situation; when I wasn't in ministry, I worried about how I would support my family's lives in the future.
     But ministry is not supposed to be anxious.  My congregation has not called me to serve from a place of fear, but from a place of wholeness. We are called to serve a God "who has not given us a spirit of fear," whose gift of love casts out all fear and is filled with grace and compassion.
     In the midst of participating in ministry from a place of fear and anxiety, I have forgotten to care for my body "as if my life depended upon it."

    Today marks 20 years since our family lost my father.  I was brought to tears this morning when I did the math in my head and realized that I have been grieving for him for that many years.  When I think about my high school graduation, my brother's college graduation, my sister's wedding, and the birth of each of his five beautiful grandchildren, I grieve for the experiences that he has missed.  He struggled with, and lost a battle with, the disease of obesity then, as I struggle with the disease today.
     20 years from now, Hannah will be nearly 23 and becoming an adult.  I will be there with her to companion her on her journey if I begin to care for my body "as if my life depended upon it." And then I can continue to care for my family and my congregation from a place of freedom and grace.