Yesterday, I turned 40.  I am by turns shocked, neutral, slightly dismayed, and a little bemused.  Mentally, I think I’ve been somewhere around 27 since I was… 27.  I think maybe it’s the forceful sound of the word.  “Thirty-nine” has soft edges and can be whispered.  “Forty” seems like more of a bark.  Still, it’s better than the alternative.

The day itself was lovely.  I had to work, but I flipped on the light on my office in the morning to discover it had been “birthday bombed” by my lovely co-workers.   I really didn’t mind the black balloons, but I’m grateful there were colorful ones as well, along with streamers, banners, and confetti.  My parents made the drive up to my work town to take me out to lunch and the gray drizzly day turned out to be spectacularly cool and sunny.  J sent me a spectacular tropical flower arrangement, I Zumba-ed my 40-year-old heart out with friends, and I came home to a healthy delicious dinner cooked by J.  How could I be sad about my age on a day like that?

I’ve already been making so many changes in the last month that I can’t say I did extensive self-assessment yesterday, but I did confirm something I’ve discovered over the last couple of weeks.  Part of my desk decoration included a piece of cake.  It was such a thoughtful touch, and in birthdays past it would have become breakfast.  And this year…. I didn’t want it.  I don’t mean I was ungrateful at all, I mean I didn’t crave it.  I didn’t fixate on it, I didn’t figure out how to balance my day around it.  My friends and co-workers know about my new eating lifestyle (I try not to overshare, but at the same time, it helps explain some changes in my eating behavior when we get together).  They are considerate, to the point of apologizing if they set out doughnuts in the kitchen or eat something in front of me.  I tell them it is fine, as is polite, but it’s also the absolute honest truth.

I’ve mentioned before that this lifestyle is as much spiritual as it is healthful, and with the cake, I have realized something profound.  I am free.  It is a genuine deliverance; former favorite indulgences have no hold on me.  I’m not passing up the rolls at dinner because of rigid stick-to-the-plan determination, I’m passing them up because although I’m fully aware of how good they taste, I’m aware they don’t benefit me, and for the first time in my life, that awareness is enough to simply disregard them.  Friends… this is entirely new territory!  It’s not willpower, because I don’t have enough.  I believe it’s the grace of God and the result of re-tuning my body’s desires by eating foods that satisfy and provide energy in the right way.

The night before last, I told J I wasn’t sure I wanted to turn 40.  He told me that was silly.  He has insisted since we met that I look younger than my age, and I believe he means it.  He also told me that 40 was wonderful, because I have all the wisdom of having lived through those 40 years along with the opportunity ahead of at least 40 more years to live it out.  You can see why I feel like my marriage with him is a gift of God’s grace as well.  So despite my knee that grinds unpleasantly when I go down stairs, the remaining weight I’d like to lose (although 20 pounds down is an encouraging start), the signs of crow’s feet around my eyes, and what I suspect is a grayer-than-blonde eyebrow hair, I will focus on my blessings.  A husband I adore, a family I cherish, a job that fulfills and challenges me, a body beginning to rediscover its original design, a sense of purpose and knowledge of self I didn’t possess even at 30… I’m beginning to think 40 can be delicious.

By the way, so was the cake.  I took it home and split the piece with J, and it was the perfect amount of birthday treat.  And when it was gone, it was out of my mind.  And that is the most delicious thing of all.

Today was one of those perfect May days Kentucky often produces.  Sunny and warm but not hot or muggy, slight breeze, fluffy clouds (and a supermoon tonight!).  J and I had a rare Saturday off together, so we slept in a little and then set off on our errand-running adventures.

First stop was a furniture store auction.  I’ve been intending to redo my home office for quite awhile, but I’m stalled at finding the right desk.  Seeking a bargain, we walked around the store, and not one desk to be found.  Foiled, we headed over to a shopping center instead, me in search of Spring clothes and J being a good sport and entertaining himself in the Dollar store.  I struck out on clothing, but did manage to score a really fabulous pair of shoes.  I thought I could wear them on my birthday next week, perhaps to take a little of the sting out of the number I will now have to write in the “Age” box.  Before meeting J, since my mind was on feeling pretty, I made a last minute detour into the beauty supply store.

Here, a confession: after some experimenting a few months ago, I now wear false eyelashes.  Every. Single. Day.  Once I found the right size and shape for my eye and learned some application skills, I was hooked.  No more searching for the ever elusive perfect mascara. Instead, I stick ’em on every morning and move on through my day with perfect, lovely lashes.  I normally wouldn’t broadcast that, but it’s the key to what happened next. I can find the type I wear at Walmart, where we were heading later, but I can also find them at the beauty supply store.  It was on the way to the car, and they’re right by the door, so I knew it would be a quick grab and no hassle.

I picked up two sets (Rule of Eyelashes:  Always keep a spare set), and made my way to the counter.  There were two ladies ahead of me, shopping together.  They apparently knew the clerk, and were chatting while the one who was paying scrambled through her purse for her discount card.  The scramble wasn’t going that well, and when they apologized to the clerk she breezily told them it was no problem, she wasn’t in any kind of hurry.  Well that’s a plus for customer service and all, but she didn’t bother to ask if *I* was in a hurry, and I was getting nowhere fast.  Here, another confession: I’m impatient.  VERY.  I’ve made some good strides at not showing it on my face, and believe me, I’ve prayed about it, but I am.  So on the inside, I was moving from neutral to aggravated.  Finally, they decided to pause their transaction (still scrambling) and the clerk began to ring me up, when she stopped.  She announced that there was a current deal where I could get a bottle of nail polish free for buying two sets of lashes.  Somewhat mollified, I asked her which colors I could choose from.  As she walked me over to the rack, another customer who had overheard eagerly asked me what I was buying so she could get the same deal.

Still half-listening to the clerk, I quickly said “eyelashes”, and turned to look at the colors.  The customer next to me wasn’t deterred and asked me where the eyelashes were in the store.  Buoyed by the promise of free merchandise, I remembered my manners, and showed her where they were.  She had more questions;  What kind did I like?  How did I choose? What kind of glue did she need?  Before I could even begin answering, she said, “You see, I had cancer, and my eyebrows and eyelashes really haven’t come back much.”  I had glanced at her on the way to the eyelash rack, but now I really looked at her.  She was right, they were sparse.  But her eyes were smiling – she was as excited about a bargain as I was, and as interested in dressing up her eyes as I was, too.  Chastened by my previous hurry, I explained the different ones I had tried and why the style I wore now was my favorite.  I helped her find the best kind of glue and then went back to the nail polishes with her while we talked about our favorite colors.

I chose my shade, and so did she, and she followed me back to the counter.  I paid and gathered my bag and purse to leave.  I wished her luck with the eyelashes and she thanked me for helping her, we shared a genuine smile, and I left.  She was kind, but I should have been thanking her instead.  She had reminded me of how much we all want to feel pretty, no matter what it is we have to work with.  More importantly, my brief encounter with her reminded me to stuff it the next time I start to get impatient.  While vanity is an overdose of devotion to one’s appearance, I think there is a vanity of our time and its importance as well.  Each moment brings chances to smile, to share a moment, to boost someone up.  I doubt circumstances today led me to the beauty supply store instead of Walmart so I could be a small blessing to a stranger.  I think it was so I could be humbled.  I’m thankful for the lesson.

One of the challenges I have taken on this year in addition to revolutionizing our eating and embracing fitness has been to read the Bible in a year.  I’ve read a lot of parts of the Bible over a lot of years of my life, but this is the first time I’ve arrowed straight through.  The challenge is literal – one of the best parts of my company is our charitable giving foundation.  They support some really amazing Christ-centered ministries around the world, and they do a great job of supporting us employees as well.  At the end of last year, an announcement was posted:  if any employee wanted to take on the challenge to read the Bible in the year, we would be provided with a Bible just for that purpose, at no cost.  On top of that, each person who completes the challenge will select a favorite Christian charitable organization to receive a $100 donation.  Amazing, right?

Unlike some popular “chronological” plans, the bible we received is a straight-through, New Living Translation, which I am really enjoying.  I’ve just come to the end of 2 Chronicles, and I have found it fascinating.  It can sometimes be overwhelming to read through so many genealogies, but between them the stories of the kings of Israel and Judah are riveting in their repetition.  That seems like a paradox.  Or is it an oxymoron?  Anyway, from Saul to David to all the many generations beyond, hundreds of years can be categorized in one of two ways.  When the king trusted God and led his country to worship Him alone, king and nation thrived in times of peace, victory, and success.  When the king turned from God to worship pagan deities and relied on military strength, divination, or bribes (often paid with objects belonging to the Temple) instead of His assurances, they failed miserably, were overrun, and often died horribly as a result of their life’s choices.  Over, and over, and over again.

Even Solomon, who built the Temple and fell down in wonder when God’s presence visibly filled it at the dedication ceremony, who was visited directly by God and offered anything he could choose and, choosing wisdom, was also blessed with riches beyond measure… even he failed at the end, allowing and encouraging worship of false gods at the “high places” that God had repeatedly told Israel to get rid of.  I’ve wondered before why there are so many historical records of kings, wars, and successions, but I finally got the “30,000 foot view”.  God keeps his promises!  “If you worship me and keep my laws, I will bless you.”  “Because you put your faith in power when I asked you to put it in Me, the result of your actions will be your own destruction.”  There’s mercy in there too – even kings who turned away from the Lord, when they truly repented, were given grace, often with a physical rescue from their enemy.

All of this is both humbling and reassuring.  If even Solomon, who witnessed God’s power in the most real powerful way we could imagine, could grow complacent enough in his blessings to turn from his passion for God, so can we.  Perhaps it was a literal seduction; he did have an awful lot of women in his life, and much has been lost in history because of relationship blindness.  We aren’t told, but I don’t think we need to be – the reminder is that it would easily be any of us when self  and might is indulged to excess.  The reassuring part is that each time a king decided to break from the pattern of his predecessor and return to God, especially when he restored the Temple, got rid of the foreign altars, and most especially when he got out the Book of Law and actually read it, he and his people enjoyed a time of rich blessings and peace.

It’s easy to see this as punitive – God waiting to punish anyone who doesn’t follow a ritual to the letter, but I don’t believe that’s true at all.  There are certainly plenty of cases where it’s made clear that life is God’s to give or take, I think those histories are instead a case, with plentiful evidence, for cause and effect.  When I am well-versed in His “Book of Law” (the Law now being Love) and spending time with Him, I am nurturing my love for Him.  I am not straining to hear from Him because I am in constant conversation with Him.  Filled with His Spirit, I am free to love my neighbor as myself, free from dependence on outside crutches, free from panic and perpetual distress.  When I start to believe the lie that He is not enough, I am unsure, desperate to surround myself with whatever armor or weapons keeps me alive, constantly at the whim of my human emotions, cheap joys, and temporary calm.  And there’s the other lesson too – while I am not a king, I am mindful that none of us lives in a vacuum.  As lived the king, so lived the people.  Whatever the size of your sphere of influence, what are your constituents witnessing in you?

I shared this quote on Facebook earlier this week, because it really hit me where I lived:

One of the great snares of the Christian worker is to make a fetish of his rare moments. When the Spirit of God gives you a time of inspiration and insight, you say – “Now I will always be like this for God.” No, you will not, God will take care you are not. Those times are the gift of God entirely. You cannot give them to yourself when you choose. If you say you will only be at your best, you become an intolerable drag on God; you will never do anything unless God keeps you consciously inspired. If you make a god of your best moments, you will find that God will fade out of your life and never come back until you do the duty that lies nearest, and have learned not to make a fetish of your rare moments.  — Oswald Chambers

I’ve made so many changes in such a short time, it’s easy to get carried away feeling pretty good about the way things are going. I’m very grateful for where God has taken me in the last couple of months, and even the last couple of years, with everything from a drastic but wonderful career change to turning my pantry upside-down.   It’s been a time of great blessing, but the quote resonated with me because I already know it’s true.  In my home church, we talked about these times as “mountain-top” experiences.  And they are wonderful, but you can’t just hang out up there for the rest of your life.  To grow in faith, you need descents and climbs to strengthen your spiritual muscles.  Fortunately, I’ve never lacked for slopes in my life, some steep and some just slippery enough to remind you of your humanity.

Take today.  I believe everyone has had that kind of morning, when you wake up more rested than usual, you’re feeling pretty positive about getting some good work done today, and you manage to put together an outfit that achieves professionalism, comfort, and Friday style.  You’re wearing a favorite necklace and pretty silver shoes, and to top it off, your pants are getting baggy.  Add your long-cherished charm bracelet for a last splash of style, and it’s out the door and on with the day. It’s Friday!  It’s Payday!  You start knocking out your to-do list, catch a potential problem before it has time to cause trouble, and chug down the water you now drink exclusively.  Which, naturally, leads to an eventual trip to the ladies’ room.

After you wash your hands, mind still humming along thinking about that project you’ll finally be able to tackle today, you check your hair and quickly reach back to make sure the tag of your pants is tucked in, when it happens.  Now it’s very possible that this is the point where the story for “you” rolls right on back to your office and on with the day, but  the story for me was that the one slightly crooked link on my bracelet managed to firmly hook itself into the back waistband of my undergarment, and I stood in front of the mirror, one hand trapped behind my back, panic on my face and the persistent jingling of my bracelet as I frantically tried to free myself.  Too far behind me to see what was going on, too awkward an angle to find the latch with my other hand and at least release the bracelet, and unthinkable to walk back out the door and into any public area of our workplace to find assistance.  After what felt like at least an hour, jingling all the way, I finally managed a last desperate yank and gained my freedom.  And because I’m me, panic dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of the giggles.  Thanks to the mirror, I had literally faced my own human frailty, a swift and powerful reminder that no matter how pulled together I think I am, I am profoundly imperfect.

Also because I’m me, I couldn’t keep the funny to myself and went to tell a friend (or two).  We all had a good laugh, especially because, as I was demonstrating my earlier panic, I managed to get the bracelet caught AGAIN.  This time on my sweater, and my friend managed to stop laughing long enough to free me.  I went back upstairs to my office, took off the bracelet, and got on with my day.  I really love that bracelet.  I’ve been collecting the charms for more than 30 years, and it’s a lovely memento of many special points of my life.  Today it gained a new, invisible charm, because every time I see it, I’ll be reminded not to be prideful in my confidence!  So if you have mountainside moments, silly or severe, take heart.  There’s another mountaintop down the range.  And another, and another.  You’ll get there.  But in the meantime, in the words of Roseanne Roseannadanna, “It’s always something!”

My lovely, but unusual, vacation has come to its inevitable end.   I say unusual, because I don’t remember the last time we had an entire week off and didn’t go anywhere.  Our budget doesn’t run to the jet-set life, but I am a Priceline devotee and we generally run away somewhere on the cheap, even for just a night or two.  This time, we stayed firmly in residence, giving our house some overdue TLC and sneaking in naps, sports (J) and reading (H) at will.  The bedroom was slightly rearranged, which was the finishing touch on a long-term effort to convert it from a bunker to a serene sanctuary.  The kitchen sparkles, the carpets are freshly shampooed (with only minor trauma to the cats’ sense of entitled serenity), the errands are run, and the sun finally set on the last day of carefree, alarm-free unscheduled mellowness.

And then Monday comes.  I often wonder that if I, say, won the lottery (unlikely, less due to the odds than the fact I don’t buy tickets)… could I successfully live a life where neither of us worked?  I can pull off a very good impression of a cat motionless for hours in a sunny spot, I adore posh hotels (paid for with Priceline-cheap dollars), and the attributes of my dream home far outstrip my prospects (two-story library, anyone?).  But at points of my life, mostly further back than the last few years, I’ve had large amounts of time to do as I pleased, and I have to confess, it’s not very good for me.  A week or two is about right.  Months on end, I fear, would dull me.  Too much indulgence of my own whims tends to make me restless, rather than rested.  I read once, in a “budgeting God’s way” sort of book, that we’ve been wrong as a society to think of a decades long, self-directed retirement as our divine right.  The author counseled that we should work as long as we can possibly work, to be useful to God and society.  I’m not honestly sure I like the idea, although I think he’s mostly right.  Some people do accomplish a lot of unpaid productivity in their retirement, which I admire.  Others manage to make a life of luxury look ohhh so appealing.

At church yesterday, we were spellbound by a visiting pastor from Poland.  Through his translator, and much high-energy gesturing, he shared the most amazing story of freedom gained out of a life bound by addictions at an age too early to fathom.  Of God using him in circumstance after circumstance where he had no answer other than Jesus.  His energy was contagious, his vision was motivational.  He reminded us that there is so much to be done, so many people who need to meet Jesus.  It was a good reminder.  Work for a paycheck is unreliable.  We have a good day, and we feel great about the world.  We have a bad day, and all we see stretched out before us is a repetitious grind.  I think the secret is to see our work, however lofty or lowly, as a mission field.  The question is not how fast can we make money so we can stop dealing with it all and live for self.  It’s how can we glorify God today?  Can you quietly trust Him when another is raised up ahead of you?  Can you model integrity instead of gossiping about its lack in your co-workers?  Can you see each customer (or co-worker) as an opportunity for servanthood? Do you use your high position to lift others up as well?  Are you faithful with the talents He’s given you, or are you marking time, waiting for the “real” thing to come along?  Do you really trust Him to provide the rest you need, when you need it (not necessarily when you want it)?

I confess, I didn’t leap for joy when the alarm went off this morning.  It’s not easy to jump back into the groove, even if you feel rested and rejuvenated.  I can’t guarantee I’ll sing Hallelujah when it goes off tomorrow, either.  But I can commit to continuing this revolution, which is spreading past my kitchen to other rooms of my life.  I will be more consistent to have my clothes selected and prepared the night before, to have lunch made and ready to pack, to eliminate the obstacles that sometimes overwhelm my morning.  I will participate in the opportunities of the day with a grateful heart.  And possibly a square of dark chocolate.  It can’t all be drudgery, you know!

I have had reason this week to reflect on marriage from several angles.  A few days ago, J and I celebrated our seventh anniversary.  The actual day was a dud in terms of festivities, since we both worked late and I had a massive head cold, but we’d had the opportunity to be in Nashville together a couple of days before and had a wonderful romantic dinner (if extremely late at night after a ballgame and a nap, and featuring a constant supply of tissues for the cold) at the Opryland Hotel.  I can’t tell you what the traditional “gift” is for seven years, but I did ponder briefly on the phenomenon of the seven-year itch.  If this is the point where we are supposed to get bored with one another, restless, ready for a change, it’s news to us.

Relationships, even rock-steady ones, require an elasticity because in my experience, they are constantly in a state of change, at least under the surface.  Permanent love is choice-based love.  I think my husband is very handsome, I get the butterflies when I look at him, and I admire many of his qualities.  But if I don’t also choose to actively love him every day, to show him love and grace even when I’m aggravated, to make a conscious effort to lift him up, to make my decisions in light of his best interests as well as my own, I will be nothing but a clanging cymbal (1 Corinthians 13).  I will have all the sound and trappings of love, but chinks will open to let in petty resentments, selfishness, or self-righteousness.  He does the same for me, and the timing of who needs love the most in a moment, and how great or simple the effort to give the love is the recipe for a living breathing marriage.  It’s a lot like watching the reflection of water on a ceiling.  The source is the same, but the sunlight and winds influence a constantly moving reflection.

I’ve heard and read over and over again that “Marriage should be a 50-50 partnership.”  That made a lot of sense, until I got married.  I find there are times when it’s 100-100, because you’ve met up with something that requires total cooperation, effort, and giving from both sides.  Sometimes it’s 50-50 because you divide and conquer a list of tasks, physical or mental.  And sometimes it’s 150-25 because someone’s unwilling or unable for the moment to hold up their end, and the other stands in the gap until things even out a bit.  Those moments come in every marriage, and sometimes they lengthen into many, many moments, and I don’t know how they are survived without the marriage being grounded in God.

The lifestyle changes I’ve been writing about have made some interesting ripples in our marriage.  I had to confess I was not strong enough to do it alone, while avoiding “guilting” my husband into his participation.  He shared that he was willing to do it, but didn’t feel it as a conviction like I did.  I countered that I feel like this is a case where as the wife and the one primarily in charge of food, I believe I’ve been convicted for both of us.  That opens up a whole other area that needs extra exploration, but I do believe I’m right.  So he has been an excellent sport, but I continued to be unsure that if I, say, went on a business trip, he would continue on the path while I was gone.  And then at dinner the other night at my lovely in-laws, we were discussing health.  This was less about our own lifestyle change and more about my father-in-law’s recent open heart surgery.  I suddenly heard my husband explaining the benefits of our eating changes in detail to his parents.  He’s been listening!  And then my jaw dropped open when my former meat and potatoes (or more accurately, McDonalds-on-the-go) husband went on to share several ideas he’d like to cook, including phrases like “served on a bed of spinach.”  The balance is shifting; I’m not carrying a heavier portion of the load any more.

We’re on vacation this week, but instead of traveling, we’re staying at home, tackling some DIY projects around the house.  Our last vacation, while delightful, was with my parents, so it’s been a year since we had this much time together to ourselves.  One of the side effects of taking on so many changes in my life at the same time has been an unfortunate loss of quality time with the man who’s been my best friend for the last ten years, so I must be careful to choose not to bury myself in books every spare minute, as is my tendency left over from a decade as a single adult before we met.  I will give my 100 percent to nurturing this partnership we have going.  Sounds pretty refreshing to me.

The Beth Moore Patriarchs study I’ve been working through with friends came to its conclusion tonight.  In a sense, anyway, because the theme of the video lesson was how God does not “tie it all up” for now, but rather “ties it all in.”  I say Amen to that, sister.  There’s not a one of us that went through the study together that hasn’t been changed by it, and each in quite a different way but all left tonight with a sense of expectancy.  God doesn’t take you down deep to the roots of yourself to come back up and climb into a hammock for a while.  Like Jacob, the more we find ourself wrestling, the more certain we can be that there is a blessing at the end of it.  And I have found that a blessing always brings a requirement that it be used in some way, not hoarded and savored in private.

On the surface of things, I have my Tuesday nights free again.  So I am keeping them free and am trading in Mondays and the occasional Wednesday on Zumba classes instead.  On the surface of things, it looks like a rather flip decision.  “OK, I’ve drunk my fill of the spiritual stuff for now, let’s tone up and have some fun instead.”  That would be tying it all up.  But instead, He’s tying it all in.  I’ve written here before that I believe God has brought people and research into my life over the last year to lead up to a major overhaul in my approach to food in the past weeks.  I also believe my participation in the study, and the deep and sometimes painful struggles I’ve wrestled with were part of God’s design for me to acknowledge my weakness and therefore revel in His strength. My dinner plate has been laid on the same altar as my self-image, my skills, and my hopes and dreams – a release of self and a faith He will fulfill His powerful purpose in me.

So tomorrow, I will lay down my laziness as well.  I don’t expect to suffer too dreadfully; I will be with friends and I anticipate a good amount of giggling.  And I love to dance, although I lack any measurable skill.  But I am a girl of coziness and comfort, and I have only ever seen exercise as something to endure. Because it’s Good For Me.  Which it is, but in ways I am only beginning to understand.  Already after a few weeks of sugar-free, gluten-free, preservative-free diet, I have started to feel that lift in energy.  It’s physical yes, but also spiritual.  I am excited to see where I may end up.  And I am tasting the sweetness of obedience, the freedom of submission.  So while I won’t have my Bible in hand while I step it and shake it, I believe it will be an act of worship.

I look forward to being my ideal weight one day.  I’m excited about feeling stronger, fitter, less self-conscious.  But above all, I believe that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it (Philippians 1:6).  And that good work, for every single one of us, includes being His instrument to share His light and hope and love with others.  That’s an enormous job, a race of true endurance.  I need to be ready.  And I’m on the road, one merengue at a time!

Although this isn’t a foodie blog, I’ve had a couple of requests (Hi Mom1 and Mom2!) to post a few of the meals I’ve been putting together to stay within my Pure Food criteria.  While I’m not sure these are terribly creative, they are tasty, some of them are pretty fast, and they are satisfying, which helps.  No sense in eating right and still being hungry all the time!  It’s really been a change for me to cook only this way, instead of occasionally this way, but so far, so good.  And because I am not publishing a cookbook, I apologize for not having measurements of things, but I rarely ever cook that way, and these are fairly simple ideas.  You can add whatever spice you want if you decide to make any of them. You’ll also notice heavy use of “sauté”.  Yeah, well, that’s how I roll most of the time.

Breakfast

• Protein shake – for me, that’s Almased, soy milk, a spoonful of natural peanut butter, and perhaps half a banana.  The brand really isn’t important, as long as it’s got lots of protein and the carbs are very low-glycemic.  (I’m not paid by Almased to promote them, but if they’d like to toss an extra can my way, I sure wouldn’t say no!)
• Eggs – scrambled, hard-boiled, whatever floats your boat, but NOT loaded with cheese, sorry.
• Spoonful of natural peanut butter – this is in a time-crunch emergency, and I don’t recommend it, but I am here to be truthful, and this has occasionally been my out-the-door breakfast.

Lunch

Half the time, it’s leftovers from the night before.  The rest of the time, I make a salad with spinach and whatever chopped up veggies I’ve managed to prepare ahead of time, along with some kind of protein like chicken or canned tuna or salmon.  My absolute favorite so far is:

spinach
grape tomatoes
tiny pre-cooked salad shrimp (I pack them in a separate bag, frozen, and they thaw through the morning, so at lunchtime I just pat them on a paper towel and toss them on the salad)
half an avocado scooped out in chunks
home-made vinaigrette – I take a tiny lidded container in the morning and pour in a glug of extra-virgin olive oil (splurge on the good stuff, it matters) along with a splash of whatever vinegar sounds good – rice vinegar works with the shrimp.  Shake in a little sea salt and some pepper and seal.  At lunch time, shake it a few seconds and drizzle over the salad.

Dinner

Here’s where the theme really takes over: protein, veggies, some sort of “starch”.  It helps tremendously to make a big pot of brown rice early in the week and put it in the fridge for use all week long. Also, when those steamer-bags of frozen veggies go on sale for $1 each, STOCK UP.  Of course, cheap frozen vegetables in their non-steamer bags can simply be dumped into a microwave-safe pot, pour in water while you count to 3, cover, and microwave for about 5 minutes.

• Turkey meatballs:  Mix up 1 pound (there – a measurement!  It’ll be the last one!) lean ground turkey with an egg, a big handful of chopped fresh flat-leaf (italian) parsley, a goodly amount of pre-cooked rice, a shake of onion flakes, a little garlic (minced or powdered, whatever), some pepper and some sea salt.  Form into medium (golf-ball) sized balls and bake on a cookie sheet at 350 for somewhere around 15 minutes, or until they look golden brown on the outside.  I always sacrifice one to cut in half to be sure they’re done.  I recommend putting a baking rack on the cookie sheet and putting the meatballs on that so what little fat they do have drains nicely.  Serve with sautéed greens or whatever steamed colorful veggies are handy and a salad.

• Fried rice:  Scramble an egg or two very dry.  Move the eggs to a bowl, wipe out the pan, add a little olive oil, and sauté chopped onion along with whatever else you like (for me, it’s small-chopped carrot, mushrooms, and peas, although I usually just steam the peas in the microwave and add them last minute to the finished dish).  When they’re good and cooked, add them to the eggs in the bowl.  Now dump cooked rice into the skillet, add a dash of olive oil if it looks like it needs it, and toss it around until it’s warmed through.  Add the veggies and eggs back in, and use the spatula to chop up the eggs well.  Drizzle with low-sodium soy sauce and stir for a minute or so, and it’s done!  Serve this alongside turkey patties or chicken breasts, or for a meal in a bowl, add diced cooked chicken or freshly sautéed shrimp straight in to the rice.  This makes a great second-day lunch too!

• Chicken with quinoa (keen-wah) pilaf:  Gently pan-cook boneless skinless chicken breasts (seasoned however you like) in a small drizzle of olive oil in a skillet.  Butterfly them if they’re too big to cook through nicely.  Meanwhile, cook the quinoa according to package directions.  If it’s new to you, quinoa is a grain, or more accurately, a seed.  It cooks just like rice and has the benefit of lots of goodness and no gluten.  In a separate skillet, sauté some diced onion and whatever else sounds good (I had set aside chopped carrot and mushrooms from making fried rice the night before).  When the veggies are cooked and the quinoa is done, add the quinoa to the skillet with a small sprinkle of seasoned salt. Serve with the chicken and some steamed broccoli splashed with a little lemon juice.

• Turkey Un-burger:  Buy or form lean ground turkey patties.  Cook them in a skillet like hamburgers.  Slice cooked, chilled polenta and, in another skillet or when the turkey’s done, warm up a drizzle of olive oil and put in the slices of polenta.  Cook until lightly golden brown, flipping halfway through.  Keep the heat to medium and be patient, because they will definitely burn if it’s too hot.  To pre-prepare the polenta yourself, cook it the night before, take any leftovers while they’re warm, and smooth them into a cookie sheet.  Chill overnight in the fridge and cut into cubes or blocks the next day.  Or, buy pre-cooked polenta in a tube like cookie dough, and slice out of the package like I do.  Serve the turkey patty over a couple of slices of the now crispy polenta, with a side of whatever veggies you’re in the mood for.  Sprinkle with a small amount of seasoned salt or other spices.

And the list goes on.  I bought several types of frozen fish fillets this week, so we’ll go more seafood.  I’m thinking salmon with a balsamic glaze!

Tomorrow is Easter Dinner at Mom1 and Dad1’s, and I can’t wait.  M1 was a little nervous about cooking for us now that we’re in the heart of the revolution, but I think I’ve managed to convince her that it is really easy.  We LOVE roasted leg of lamb, especially at Easter, and that will be the main dish.  Instead of the crispy roasted potatoes soaking up the drippings, we’ll have a roasted mix of sweet potatoes, zucchini, mushrooms, onions, and carrots, which we all love.  Peas for the green veggie, crisp pan-seared polenta cubes for the starch, and a tossed salad on the side.  The only item left to question is the mint jelly.  I don’t know who ever thought to spoon minted apple jelly over roasted lamb, but it is essential to the experience.  I realize jelly is made with lots of sugar, but I will still have a small spoonful because crushed mint leaves just will not do.  That sounds like a celebration dinner to me!

And it is a celebration.  Tomorrow is Easter, a day my family holds very sacred and holy.  And JOYFUL.  Christ died so you and I don’t have to offer sacrifices any more.  So we can stand pure and blameless in front of God, without the pollution of our sin fogging the view.  So we can live in a relationship with Him.  So we can live peacefully, free from the guilt and shame of bad choices, free from debilitating anger, free from addictions and fear and bondage. Because the more we exercise our choice to follow Him, the less enjoyment we find in living for self.  The more we seek Him out, the more delight He takes in our relationship and the more fun it is to serve someone who finds joy in us.  The more we follow His directions, the more satisfying and productive our outcomes.  The more we are filled with His spirit, the more we learn how to truly love our neighbor as ourself. And the more time we spend getting to know Him, the more exciting we find the prospect of eternity with not a distant rule-based God but a loving, holy Father who cherishes us enough to have paid for our sin.  May each of you have that peace and freedom in the love of Christ this Easter. He is Risen!

So our household (being in total: 2 adults and 2 cats plus, I am sorry to say, a current herd of dust bunnies) is now a week and a half into this Pure Food Healthy Living plan.  On the whole, it is successful thus far.  I’m getting into a groove of multi-tasking my cooking time, so not only am I preparing the meal I’m about to eat, but I’m also cooking, chopping, or assembling something that will make the next day’s meals faster.  Most nights, I also make enough of what we’re going to eat to make lunches for both of us for the next day.

J is more reassured that I’ve not taken a wild turn towards serving anything disturbing like jellied octopus tentacles flambé (no offense to anyone who thinks that sounds delish) or overly fiber-intensive like twig and bark salad with a side of hay.  To keep from getting too overwhelmed, I’ve settled into a preliminary pattern of protein (usually chicken or fish or shrimp), plentiful veggies nicely seasoned and either steamed or sautéed, and some sort of grain, like brown rice, polenta, or quinoa.  It may take a while for me to figure out how to elevate the interest factor a little.  Chicken piccata would be great, but no dredging in white flour, and I decline at the moment to pay $12 for a small bag of almond flour instead.  Scrambled eggs are allowed and delicious, but I will admit that on a couple (3) rushed mornings, I’ve swallowed down a spoonful of (natural) peanut butter on the run and called it breakfast.

I’m quite pleased to be feeling healthier already (and, by the way, to have dropped 9 pounds in 8 days), and to spend less money on food since we’re not eating out or grabbing convenience food multiple many times a week.  I am not quite so pleased to face up to the difficulty I’m having in matching this success in other areas of my life.  For my focus to stay at full throttle at work, my family to be attended to, and my eating to be healthy and hearty, my house is not quite so shiny, my Read the Bible In A Year plan is a couple of weeks lagging, my Bible study homework is becoming more scribbles and less thought-out each week, and my days have evolved (devolved?) into a ridiculously predictable routine, down to knowing what time I’ll be brushing my teeth each morning and what time I’ll crash on the bed with my laptop at night. Oh yes, and did you hear I started a blog?

Part of the purpose of the blog is to work out some of the many, MANY questions in my head, and this one is one of the biggest… how do we balance it all, when all of it is good stuff?  I am not too thrilled at this point by what I think may be the answers:  less down time, more work on the weekends.  When it’s crunch time, I can go go go like the Energizer Bunny until I’m at the absolute breaking point, but that is not at all my natural state of being.  I’m a curl-up-with-a-book kinda girl who loves nap times and fuzzy blankets. But each day there is much to be done and miles to go before I sleep.

A lot of women have spent a lot of years stepping out from stereotypes to say, “I can have it all!”  Well, I can’t.  Not without a personal staff, and then I don’t have it all, because I’m paying them to have some of it.  So I suppose that admission is somewhat freeing.  The bare honest truth is that I’ve spent most of my life comparing myself to another woman.  She is thinner, with better style, she is successful, she breezes through situations with the right word, the right amount of laughter, and the right touch of empathy.  She’s not klutzy, she is sweet tempered, and she only ever thinks the best of anyone. She doesn’t know I look at her this way, because she doesn’t exist.  She’s the Me that I, in weaker moments, castigate myself for not being.  If I’d been Her from the beginning, I wouldn’t have to make such radical changes in my life.  If I was Her from the beginning, I would have already read the Bible through so many times I’d have it memorized. If I was Her… I maybe wouldn’t understand grace as well, because I wouldn’t need it so often. So I am not Her.  I am Me.  And while Me is being re(de)fined at present, I see that I must trust God that Matthew 11:28 is true.

If you’re tired too, I’ll trust it for you as well.  Meanwhile, I need to go give my husband the anniversary cards I bought yesterday, and have only written in today, when our anniversary was Monday.

I haven’t gone into too much detail here about exactly how I’ve changed my eating, other than that it’s essentially “pure food” – no packaging, and no preservatives.  That’s true, but it actually goes a little beyond that to no sugar, and no gluten, either.  For years diets have told us to check the “glycemic index” of food, to see if it contains the same kinds of carbs our bodies convert straight to sugar, but lately it seems to be catching on in a deeper way.

This isn’t a diet for me, though, it’s a revolution of my eating as well as my thinking.  I finally started listening, and in light of the strong tendency to diabetes in both my family and my husband’s, I’ve started doing some research.  Two very recent articles have really grabbed my attention.  One is Is sugar toxic? – CBS News.  I didn’t get to watch this last night but I read the transcript today and it’s really kind of horrifying.  In a (good for you!) nutshell, sugar doesn’t just convert to fat.  It affects our cholesterol and, by directly spiking our own insulin, can make some tumors grow faster!  So, we cut out the candy, right?  It’s far more reaching than that… overwhelmingly so.  Grab any package on the shelf (even some in the “natural” section), and you will find sugar high on the ingredient list.  If not sugar, high-fructose corn syrup, which is just as bad.  It’s in EVERYTHING.  The “healthy” whole-grain bread, peanut butter, salad dressings… it’s endless.  And since it acts on our brain instantly to release feel-good dopamine, it’s very addictive.  And that’s just the processed sugar.  There’s also the food our body converts into sugar, like white potatoes.

So as a former addict, was it hard to stop the sugar?  Yes and no.  It was overwhelming at the beginning of last week when I had a stark, bare, pantry and had to rebuy a food supply that didn’t include sugar.  And this is a girl whose ultimate treat is a Cinnabon with extra frosting.  Was.  I was at a lovely party this weekend, and the star of the food table was a beautiful chocolate-frosted chocolate cake.  I’d already survived passing up parts of the other eats that were off my list (like the cute flower-shaped sandwiches since bread is out, and the crackers and cheese because crackers = bread and oh yeah, I’m also off dairy for at least 6 weeks.  More on that later.), and normally I’d feel like I deserved a tiny piece of cake as a treat, but this time I passed.  Someone who knows I’m on this journey asked me if it was hard to give up the cake, and to my surprise I answered, “No”.

It’s not hard right now, because this isn’t just science, or medical logic, but a spiritual issue.  I believe God is asking me to submit my most basic wants to Him, and I am certain that some of the information that’s crossed my path recently is by His direction.  Saying no to cake simply because it will keep me from losing weight is a frail premise – many times before I’ve alternately given in and eaten the cake, or stood firm for that moment but obsessed over it.  This weekend, though, I was free.  I know exactly how delicious chocolate cake tastes, but armed with all the knowledge of what it will do inside my system and how clearly God has called me to walk away from that, I have no desire any more to eat it.  I did learn a good lesson though… if you want to eat healthy, plan ahead!  I certainly don’t expect any hostess or anyone around me to cater to the choices I’ve made, but I do realize I’m going to get pretty hungry eating nothing but fruit and raw veggies at a lunchtime party, so a bag of nuts in the purse is highly advised!

One more article on the diabetic line of things… I read this last week: Why the New Surgical Cure for Diabetes Will Fail!  I think the title should maybe say “May Fail”, but obviously it doesn’t have the same impact.  The article refers to the new study in the news regarding the reversal of diabetes in gastric bypass patients, shortly after surgery and long before major weight loss is achieved.  It discounts that study somewhat, because while the research is true, the same results are achievable with diet changes, in as little as ONE WEEK.  That’s amazing!  Please understand, I have friends who have achieved tremendous success with bariatric surgery and I wish them all the continued health and happiness life can possibly contain.  But it is eye-opening to learn how much POWER we have over ourselves.  Hook into God, and the power is unlimited!  I’m not diabetic, but I could easily be soon if I hadn’t started this change.  And I don’t believe my food revolution will prevent every and all disease from knocking at my door.  I do believe, though, that “I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength” – Philippians 4:13.

What’s He giving you the strength to walk away from?