Maybe my most important post ever.

I have learned a harsh lesson over the past few years. A number of them, if I am being perfectly honest. And here is one that is weighted on my heart today to tell you. And it’s the power of prayer. I know it sounds crazy, right? I mean, I am sure you all are shocked to know that I am a Christian and I believe in prayer. And here is the other thing I have noticed – it is moments of intense need that we pray with passion and ferver. I know that at times, we have all felt like we are in quicksand. Just sinking and sinking, and no matter what we grab, we might hold on – but we are just avoiding the inevitable – and we are still sinking. And I remember being on my knees and begging and pleading – “PLEASE ADD MORE MONEY TO MY CHECKBOOK!” or “PLEASE STOP THIS SICKNESS! HEAL ME!” – I could go on and on, and I am sure you could too.

I have had many challenges in my personal relationships. I have had problems with my finances. Facing the loss of a spouse. Someway, it seemed like my life had started four-wheeling/off-roading, and it wasn’t the fun kind. This was not the way I had planned my life. I didn’t plan on having financial insecurity in my early thirties. I planned to be financially set by then, with the correct amount of money in a 401K/ 6 months of living expenses saved up, etc. I didn’t plan on having personal issues in my mid to late twenties. I planned, that by then, all the drama would cease – myself and all around me would be mature, intelligent, and like-minded adults all living in a utopia.

I definitely didn’t plan on becoming a widow at 33. That was not in plan. That was not the way my life was supposed to happen. I mean, I felt like, I am a Christian. I am doing what God wants me to, mostly anyways. At least I am trying. So stuff like that shouldn’t happen to me right? It wasn’t in my plan. I believed that things like that happen to other people. And I dare say, that many people who are reading this still feel that way. That “those type of things” happen “to other people”. And believe me when I say this, I am not judging. Maybe in some aspects, I still feel that way. Sometimes, I feel like – I have been through so much, surely nothing else horrible can happen. Then that thought flips to a moment of fear. Panicky fear. When I have the realization that anything can happen at anytime. It isn’t a game of odds. It isn’t a checklist. God isn’t sitting up in heaven with a checklist weighing the bad things with the good – making sure we Christians have an equal amount of suffering. So that theology of mine is a moot point.

But then I think about everything. And I am going to break it down bit by bit –
1.) Finances + Kristie = no bueno. I realized I couldn’t do it myself. I prayed. And I prayed. I prayed for a job for more money. I prayed for bonus checks. I prayed for side jobs. But guess what I didn’t do? I didn’t tithe. So, I listened to a sermon about tithing – and I started being obedient. And did I become rich overnight? Of course not – but did my financial situation become manageable? It did. I had done some serious damage to myself financially, but it was amazing when I did God’s will – and not mine – how quickly my situation became manageable.

2.)People – I tried and tried to help. I was co-dependant. I wanted people to love me. I wanted approval from everyone. I would sacrifice things that I believed in to gain the approval of others. And when I became obedient - and lived the way God wanted me too, all those internal problems left. Were some relationships lost? Yes, of course. But that’s okay. I can still love and care for people without being involved. And in this, I do not mean romantic relationships, I mean – I am sure it would be applicable here – but for me personally, it was friendships.

3.)Loss of Shaun -Now this one is not near as cut and dry as the previous, hence I saved it for last. This still shocks me in a way. It was not in my plan. We were happy. Living a good life. It had been difficult to get to that point, but I felt like we had crested the hill and it was all smooth-sailing from that point. When he died, my faith was tested like never before. And I believe at points it almost broke. But it was during this time, I learned to pray. I did pray that God would bring him back. I would tell God that he could rewind time, and that it all could be erased, and no one would know. He could even wipe my memory. I prayed while holding Krissie and Jacqueline’s hands. I screamed while I prayed. I went and saw my pastor and begged him to tell my why this happened. But it wasn’t until I prayed for strength to get through – and I gave it all to God – that my heart changed. I realized, that it was not my will – it was God’s. That God had allowed this to happen for a reason. I have seen the amount and the magnitude of things that have changed since Shaun’s death. And I see the magnitude of change in myself.

I now have incredible confidence and strength in my faith. Although I would love to be a published author that’s changing the world, a person who affects people in amazing ways – I will rejoice in sitting at my desk job, and praising God the whole way – because it isn’t my will – it’s his. He loves me. He invites me to call him “Father”. I am significant to him as our children are to us. He has provided me with more than I could ever hope. More than I ever deserve. He has given me three gorgeous kids, who complete me. A man who loves me, and respects the fact that I am a widow. (Being with a widow is hard – just think about it). My little family builds me up every single day, kids and husband alike. So I am content but not complacent. I will keep praying – not my will but his. And I am sure that it is going to take me leaps and bounds above my wildest dreams.

And the Thunder Rolls.....

I believe it must be a true fact that I have anxiety.  I mean, I am not 100 percent sure - but I believe it has to be so.  And here is why I say this - well, here is my reason today - tomorrow it could be completely different.  But when I hear the word "tornado", "earthquake", "severe thunderstorm warming", or "hurricane" - I feel like I could puke.  Storms give me a crazy amount of fear - but let me tell ya something else?  I am obsessed with them.  I google them.  I research them.  Maybe it's because I feel like the more I know the safer I will be?  Definitely not true.

So today, not only did I feel sick, I was a nervous wreck over these "wicked" storms that were coming. I worry about the kids being scared - I worry about wrecks - trees fallen -  you name it.  And I am married to a man whom none of this phases.  I don't get it.  And I am sure, as a side note, that I drive him bonkers - because I call him about 4 times an hour to make sure he is okay.

He used to live in Florida - and has been through hurricanes - and get this - he is one of the crazies that stayed during a hurricane!!!!  I forget which, but that just doesn't make sense to me.  I feel like evacuating when there is one in Virginia Beach - and I am 3 hours away from there.  Not long ago, we went to an Orioles game - and that night - on the way home - there was freak microburst.  I was freaking out- and he was cool as a cucumber while big trees flew in front of us and the interstate was bright green from all the leaves and debris.  All he kept saying was, "I have driven through worse, Kristie.  Calm down. You don't want to wake the kids up - then they will be scared."  And he was absolutely right.

Now, I know this all seems completely random - and in a way it is - but here is a question that I pose to you.  What makes some of us panicky over somethings, and others as calm as can be? I know it's not a lack of faith -- because I have that.  I just really don't want to be impaled by a tree trunk.  And, do we work on these fears, or just let them be part of us?  I mean, is that something that just is part of who we are?  Just wondering.

And here is a bonus, I am talking to him on the phone right now - and asked him a name - and he said, "Have you ever been through one?  They are fun!" - and I say again, he's not right. But I love him. :-)

Fat Thoughts... and I don't mean PHAT....

P.H.A.T.  - one of my favorite  phrases - Pretty Hot and Tempting.  That's one of my all time favorite phrases.  I used to call myself that all the time - being silly, of course.  But as life would have it - at that time, I wasn't PHAT - I was FAT.  Straight up.  This was about 10 years ago.  And I lost it - down to 150 pounds. And guess what happened!?!?  Yup.  Gained it back.

Now, I didn't gain it all back.  And I had two more kids after I lost it all.  But it's been a yo- yo, fluctuating game since then.  I have went up and down between 150 and 210 for the past ten years.  (Just so ya know, I am 5'9").   Well, I had an epifany.  A rude awakening, if you will.  And here is what was.  I was killing myself slowly and miserably.  With a fork.  And a spoon.  And wow.  That's eye opening.

I started having issues.  My stress level was out the roof.  I was always tired.  No matter how much I slept, I felt like I couldn't get enough sleep.  And granted - a lot had been going on in my life.   But still.       I began dating my husband during this time - and he shed an amazing amount of weight while we were dating.  And what was I doing?  Nothing.

See, this man loved me more than himself.  He loved me so much that he sacrificed his own comfort.  His own vice.  His lifestyle that he was used to - so that he could be a strong, healthy man and stay around for a long, long time.  And I hadn't done that.   I had praised him for it.  Told him how proud I was of him.  But did I jump on that bandwagon?  Absolutely not.  Because, as long as I wasn't as "fat" as I was before, it couldn't be that bad.  But guess what?  It was.  And here is how.
1.  I have more shoes and jewelry than anyone should ever have.  Those things can change any outfit - which kept me from purchasing a lot of clothes, cause I hated trying on clothes.
2.  I wore a dress/bathing suit to my brother in law's Memorial Day Pool Party.  I am 35.  I wore a dress bathing suit.  A DRESS!!!!!  And let me tell ya what, If your legs are chubby, and you got wet fabric rubbing your whole leg - well in about 4 hours you will be screaming.  Just saying.
3.  My work pants hurt.  I was one of those  people who came home and had to put on sweats ASAP.

Well, I decided I had to do something.  No choice.  No looking back.  Because I realized, I had everything in this world to be healthy for.  And I am stronger than a cheeseburger.  A sundae.  I have three beautiful kids, and a man who loves me.  So I joined a program at the Gym called "Transformers" - I am sure you can guess where that goes.  And here's the thing.  I joined it to transform the outside - but a lot more has transformed than that.  It's my insides.  I have realized that I was an emotional eater.   And I would have never thought that.

I was mad, I'd get a snack.  Sad, I'd get a snack.  Lose control, snack.  And I never realized I did it - until I had to journal my food.  And not go above a certain number in calories.  When I would find myself in front of the pantry - searching - reading to see what was in my caloric limits - and realizing I wasn't hungry at all.  I still can't believe it in a way.

So here is what I am learning.  God gave me the most amazing machine to walk this world in.  And I change the oil in my car, put gas in it to make it go, get new brakes - I will not treat my car better than my body.  And frankly, that's what I had been doing.   Am I going to be a supermodel?  Maybe.  Probably Not.  But I will be healthy.  I will workout, be mindful of how my food choices affect my family.   My lack of exercise affects my family.  And  not being here would affect my family.  God has bigger things to do with me.

Have a great day - and get healthy!!!!

I'm back!

So, I have blogged for a long time. And I decided to start a blog of my thoughts and observations. So that’s where this one came from. Not only do I want, but I need, a place to verbalize my thoughts and feelings of the day. So here we are. Welcome my friends.

Now, let me give a disclaimer. What I write is just my thoughts and experiences. No one else’s. Don’t judge anyone for what I might say – it’s me and me alone. But the first thing that I want to write about, is a statement that someone made to me the other day at work. There was a newspaper article about me, and my picture was in the paper. In the article, it was mentioned that I was a member of Lifepoint Church. So here is how the dialogue went…..

“I saw your article in the newspaper…. I am so happy for you… you all looked so nice…And I never knew you were a Christian – you don’t look like one!” – said random work lady that I don’t know.
“Wow. Thanks so much! I do appreciate it – and yes, I am a Christian. But, I am curious – what do you think a Christian looks like?” – said me.

Now, that stunned her – and that wasn’t my intent. It really wasn’t - I was absolutely curious. And I am not gonna lie – it kinda made me mad. What was she saying about the way I look? But as she spoke, I had an awakening. And it saddened me. And as I thought about it the past few weeks, I have had a few revelations. First of all, I will give you a little background. I was born and raised a Southern Baptist. Growing up, when you went to church, ladies wore dresses, pantyhose, purses, etc. You got really dressed up to go. And do I think there is anything wrong with that? Absolutely not. Do I choose to do that? Absolutely not. My Sunday attire consists normally of a pair of jeans, great shoes, a Lifepoint t-shirt of some type, and a bunch of costume jewelry. And here is what I am saying first and foremost. In my heart of hearts, I do not believe that Jesus cares one iota what we wear to church – besides what our hearts are wearing. Simple as that. There is no amount of make-up, hairspray, clothing, that can cover-up what’s in our hearts.

Second, I have tattoos. Quite a few. And I love them. They all mean something to me. And I will probably get more. Who knows. But, apparently – this person didn’t think a Christian would have tattoos. Three of my tattoos are Christian based – giving glory to God. Do I wish they all were? Yes. But they aren’t. I chose to tattoo the outside of my body to where people can see what is on the inside too. Just by a glance – they know what I stand for. Now, am I saying that all Christians should get a tattoo? Absolutely not. It isn’t for everyone. All I am saying is that it’s something that I like for myself. That’s all.

So this is what I have learned – I never want anyone to be surprised by the fact that I am a Christian. I need to smile more, share more, speak more. Get the word out. Let the world know that I serve an amazing God that has brought me through more in my 35 years than I ever thought I would experience in my whole life. Be Loud and Be Proud. I am not ashamed – and I am thankful. And yes, I might look more like one of Pink’s friends… but I have the goal of being more like Jesus everyday. I know I will never succeed completely – but I will die trying. So here I am – a Rebel Saint. Outloud.