Day 254: Evil-less Love

"She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life." Proverbs 31:12

"I do not think it means what you think it means."

The original picture I wanted to use for this post I felt might be too disturbing for some readers (not that this is any better), but the message it carried is important nonetheless. It was a simple picture of two skeletons facing each other, locked in a timeless embrace... forever. I think I shall always equate this mental image with that of doing good to my husband for all the days of my life... a thought laden with responsibility and yet guilded with inner joy.

So... why the "demotivational" poster above?

It is hilarious. More so when I realized that over the many years, every time I've read this verse, I've always thought of evil as being the act of doing bad things to your husband. You know, purposefully malevolent acts. Suddenly I discovered; that word does not mean what I thought it meant.

Starting at the beginning, the Hebrew word describing the "good" this woman does to her husband all the days of his life is "towb." This describes good in the broadest, most general sense. All kinds of good; just good in general. Nice stuff.

The word "ra', " or "evil," however, is not the evil I was thinking of. This word - translated as "evil" in the King James Version - has a whole spectrum of meaning. Not only does it have the expected value of bad and natural or moral evil, but "ra' " also refers to a worse or worst, wretchedness, or wrong.

It was the wretchedness of the definition that got me thinking.

I find it so easy to lump my behaviors, especially where my husband is concerned, into this innocuous package which may not have all the expected virtues, but at least I'm not like "that" or I would never consider behaving like "that."

It was upon intropection that I realized the ugly truth. Many of my poor attitudes toward my love monkey, while they do not fall into the moral evil or general badness, do sit smack in the center of wretchedness or wrong. A wretch is a miserable, unhappy, or unfortunate person, thus to be in a state of wretchedness is to be miserable, unhappy, or unfortunate.

I don't believe I have ever really dealt with the true meaning of this verse. I've always kind of skipped over it, patted my brain on the cerebrum and stated for the mental record that I don't have a problem in that area. Yet, how often has a disrespectful response or reluctant behavior, a careless word or a heartless response brought a state of misery to my husband?

This ought not to be. And yet, the woman this man was tasked in finding was one who would do him good - in the complete and generic sense of the word - and not evil - to include inducement of a state of misery or unhappiness - all the days of her life. Not a weekend act, but a lifetime commitment.

I know I will never view this verse the same and I hope the same for each of you. It doesn't matter if you're married or not, these principles still apply. After all, you never know who's looking, now. Do you?

My intention is to shoot higher on the happy meter for my awesome love monkey; he really does deserve a wife who will do him all manner of good and who will refrain from causing grief and misery for as long as she lives.


Definitions and lexicon references taken from scripturetext.com and thefreedictionary.com. Photo courtesy of motifake.com

Day 249: Buttering Up

"How many sticks of butter have you lost?"

This was the question that greeted me this afternoon on my Facebook page (and that picture IS of fifty pounds of butter). The basic starting premise is that 0.2 pounds of body weight lost is equivalent to getting rid of a stick of butter. That idea seemed interesting... a stick of butter didn't seem that much, until I started adding it all up!

In the past six weeks, I've lost 37 pounds. Going on the idea that 0.2 pounds lost equals one stick of butter, this would mean that every 0.8 pounds lost would be a pound - that's one package as seen in a supermarket near you. I usually go to CostCo which would mean every 3.2 pounds I lose would equate to the four-pound bundle I would frequently purchase (I think I was buying one a month).

End result. I have lost 46.25 pounds of butter. That would be 46 normal packages of butter (plus one stick) or, for the CostCo and Sam's enthusiasts, 11.5 of their four-pound bundles! Yuck! I have this vision of a shopping cart FILLED with butter packs. Look at the top of the page... that's 50 pounds... I'm almost there! Don't get me wrong, I do like butter... but that much is just sick!

Visualization is such a powerful tool when dealing with all sorts of life situations... in particular, what you are putting into your body when you eat. The method of using pictures and comparisons to drill the message home is becoming more and more popular in the weight-loss community as dietitians and doctors use more and more hands-on, in-your-face, blunt comparisons.

Sometimes it comes in book form with lots of pictures showing better choices (Eat This; Not That), sometimes it is the placing of a 25-pound weight on your lap (graphically showing how much weight you've lost), sometimes it is by comparison (that Dairy Queen Caramel MooLatte has the sugar equivalent of twelve Dunkin' Donuts Bavarian Creme Doughnuts).

I know I, for one, never really thought about (or cared) what equivalents I might be eating and I have found visual comparison to be extremely powerful.

Although what I call negative comparison (i.e., this bad food is equivalent to this bad food) is entertaining and has a certain element of shock value, I think I more prefer to go the route of positive comparisons. With these negative comparisons, I find that even if I haven't had the slightest thought of drinking a Starbucks Caramel Frappuccino (not true), seeing a picture of it standing in frosty resplendence next to a glistening stack of its sugar equivalent in freshly-baked Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Doughnuts would not cause me to avoid either of these tasty treats. In fact, my response is quite the opposite: I want to drink the frappuccino (just the tall size...) and THEN go get those tantalizing equivalents (only one or two... I mean, it's not like I'm going to eat the whole box... today...).

What works so much better for me is seeing and understanding what I CAN have. I would rather see the tiny little sugar-free, fat-free, nine-ounce, 720-calorie muffin standing starkly to the left side of an equal sign and see on the right side a 720-calorie spread consisting of a pineapple, half a cantaloupe, half a kiwi fruit, half a papaya, five ounces of grapes, two pears, and two whole wheat rolls! The focus with this description is changing what you choose and getting more for that choice; a swap for the better. So much more powerful than the taunting pictorial comparisons of yummy evil.

Even better is this thought for the day: it is far better to focus on what can be then what cannot be. I have found that to choose to think about - with respect to dieting - what I CAN eat and the creativity which I must bring to bear within those dietary parameters. In day-to-day living, thinking about what I DO have - beautiful family, loving and supportive husband, air condition, running water - instead of things I wish I had makes for such greater contentment and peace within me.

Contentment has been one of my life's greatest challenges and it required God to do some truly out-of-the-box maneuvers to get me to the level of contentment I am today (which is WAAAY more then I ever was). I am no where near perfect, but simple reminders keep me thinking about what I DO have and not on what I WISH I had. Big difference.

Count those blessings! I know I feel better for doing that... positive is in and it's great!

Photos courtesy of cleanliv.in, rawfoodlivingdiet.com, and pictureperfectweightloss.com

Day 246: Spoiler Alert

"The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil."
Proverbs 31:11

This is the second article of a twenty-one article series and, as current events would flow, this topic was heavily overshadowed by the events of the day - of course! After the initial hubbub of the morning settled, I started to think about what this verse meant to me... that is when I realized it doesn't mean what I thought it meant.

My initial take on this verse has always been that the dude is so comfortable and trusting of his wife's handling of household and life issues, that he never has to worry about running out of money or basic necessities. In short, his life would never go to waste, or spoil. Though the grammar of the second half of the sentence always bothered me (shall have no need of spoil), I just chalked it up to ye olde English.

I was quite surprised to discover the meaning of this verse doesn't mean that at all!

In the New American Standard, it reads, "And he will have no lack of gain." All the other versions (English) I consulted spoke to the same translation; because of this man's amazing extent of trust and confidence in his woman, he would always have lots of stuff (material possessions, I'm guessing) coming in. The sentence was old English, but I missed the meaning completely! "No need of" means "unlimited supply." Quite a difference.

Of course, this bit of introspection leads me to speculate... if I become more like the woman portrayed in this Proverb, will Jason become more prosperous? I have to wonder. Actually, I would think that this would, in fact, be the case. If he had a supportive wife with whom he could confide his plans and goals, would that loving support lend itself to an increased level of self-esteem and can-do-idness? I shall have to ponder this for application to my own life. Yes.

In Hebrew, the word "leb" refers to the heart of the husband. It not only can refer to the emotions, but also the will and the intellect. This guy is putting everything on the line with this woman... and how many guys do that unless they feel really secure about the solidness of their relationship with and character of their wife?

This is further pointed out in the "doth safely trust" section by the use of the word "batach," which the lexicon translates as "hie (to rush or move fast) to refuge." Not only does this man rush to trust, but he is also bold and carefree in his confidence and hopes as he shares everything with his wife. Wow. That is some serious responsibility on the part of the woman, yes?

And what is it that this man need never experience? The Hebrew word is "chacer," meaning "to lack" and the implication of this word deals with failure, want, a lessening of the current standard. It can also mean bereavement or decrease, even abatement and want.

The most straight-forward word is the one dealing with spoils; "shalal" literally means "booty - prey or spoil." So the spoil I was thinking of - the one dealing with ruin - is not at all the one in the original language... far from it. This kind of spoil is the type one would associate with plundering and pirates; riches and wealth as a reward of some valiant effort by the man.

So put the together the two words - "chacer" and "shalal" - and what we have is a man who will not decrease or abate in the amount of booty coming in. No lessening or failing in the flow of items to enhance life. No want and no taking away of that spoil. This is a picture of a prosperous man.

Granted, times were a bit different then and taking the wealth and riches of those you conquered was a normal and valiant thing to do; it was a status symbol and spoke volumes of your battle prowess - very manly. Even though this would most likely be frowned upon today, think of some potential parallels. A guy who collects his nerve to request his boss to give him the raise for which he is overdue (and he gets it). The men who work hard every day to collect their "spoil" (we know it as paychecks and bonuses). Even very small things, such as a man insisting the matre'd remove the cost of an unsatisfactory meal from the ticket, are a form of battle.

Where there is a battle, there is a victor. How much more can we give to our husbands (those still waiting, to your dads and brothers) in the form of support and confidence. Every man needs a fair maiden to fight for and every man has a deep-rooted desire to be someone's champion and the object of respect.

I know I, for one, have been very inspired by what I learned in this verse today and, ashamedly, I can see just how very far I have fallen... and wouldn't you know, today would be the day when I wasn't the woman in whom my husband's heart could safely rest. Oh, to be perfect... but then, I wouldn't be sharing any of this with you, would I?

Photo courtesy of www.sodahead.com.

Day 242: Wind Breakers

"Compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses... let us run with patience the race that is set before us."
Hebrews 12:1

I finally did something I've never been able to do before; nor did I think I would ever be able to do it.

I ran for five solid minutes!

Now for those of you amazing athletes out there, I realize this is such a piddly accomplishment. Even for those of you who are of a medium fitness level, this really doesn't seem that amazing. Some may even chuckle in their minds and think I'm shooting low... but put the whole picture into perspective and that five minutes will become an outstanding achievement.

One-and-a-half months ago, running was so far out of my mind and physical capability, I wouldn't have been able to run for fifteen seconds, let alone five minutes! I was morbidly obese with a BMI of 45.8 and had so much "flappage" that running was physically painful and not something I would ever consider.

I think once I had to run with the stroller, having been caught in a torrential and very sudden downpour. I could only run for less than half a minute and less than a tenth of a mile. I didn't have what I needed to run my children the fifth of a mile to our house and to dryness and safety. I had to walk; the incredibly brief run had left me completely winded and embarrassed at how much "flappage" I had.

The past month (and one-half), I have been training seriously to compete in the Sandman Triathlon in Virginia Beach (19 September). Part of this training and the triathlon require that I complete a 5k in a maximum time of one hour. I knew I would need to run at least part of the 5k in order to avoid a "Did Not Complete" tag on my performance... this meant I would need to train.

I've been slowly building up each week and was horrified to find this week dictated I run for nine minutes out of thirty. I had barely completed six out of thirty last week, how was I going to do this this week?!

Jason decided to accompany me on my hour-long, postprandial walk with the boys and, somewhere along the way, further decided he was going to push me to a new level. I felt nothing but dread when I heard him declare we would run for at least two four-minute blocks. I told him I couldn't do it. I'd never run for more than two consecutive minutes.

But Jason thought I could and first coached me through a three-minute run - pushing the little boys in the stroller and counting aloud as he ran beside me. After a recovery walk, I knew it was now or never. I began running. As I reached a minute, I could feel my breath coming a little heavier. At a minute and a half, my legs were begging me to stop; my breath, though measured, was heavy. I wanted to quit... but I kept moving forward, trying to think about anything other than running.

At about two minutes, something amazing happened.

My breathing, still deep, became rhythmic and all my muscles relaxed as I fell into a regular pace. I felt as if I could keep running for hours. No more feelings of fatigue, no more desire to quit, no more beleaguered breathing. Could it be I was experiencing that "second wind" I'd heard and read about people attaining? It certainly seemed like it.

I was elated.

You see, a second wind is something I've wanted badly to experience, but never wanted to push myself far enough to experience it. Normally, I would quit before my body had a chance to fall into a rhythm, thus allowing me to perform at a higher level.

The medical world is still not sure exactly what happens during what has been termed a "second wind." It is not something that can be easily reproduced in a laboratory setting; thereby proving it hard to test the mechanisms at work during this event.

Some think it is what happens when your body begins to take in enough oxygen to combat the effects of lactic acid buildup in your muscles. Others hypothesize a second wind occurs when there is an premature "runner's high" with the early release of endorphins; the happy hormones which create that feeling of euphoria and well-being. A third belief is that it's completely psychological... just encouraging someone in their exercise can bring on a second wind.

Regardless of the actual reason for this phenomenon, it happens... and it happens in areas outside the world of physical exertion.

How many times in my life have I given up when things started getting harder? How many times have I focused on the pain and the discomfort, only to miss out on the good times and blessings ahead? Obviously, I can never know the answer to these questions. What I do know is this: the times I have persevered and pushed through and overcome, no matter what the difficulty, regardless of the pain, and ignoring intense discomfort, I have seen God move in such mighty and un-hitherto-foreseen ways and I have seen amazing things happen in my life.

I know this lesson of the second wind applies to each and every human in this world; for if there were no challenges, how would anyone grow? I believe depth of character comes from pushing beyond that point which you believe you cannot pass, just as physical performance and growth increase from stretching your physical limits. Mountains have a peak, but to get to the peak, there is a lot of uphill battling... some are small, some are seemingly insurmountable; they all have a peak.

I hope this encourages you to find your second wind, no matter what challenge you are facing. With God, all things ARE possible. If your mountain seems unusually steep and impossibly long, keep in mind that it, too, has a peak - you will get there if you do not quit or faint along the way.

Just remember that and remember that if I can help encourage you in any way, please get in touch with me; I love to encourage and I love success stories. I want you to be the next success story. I want to be the next success story myself.

Photo courtesy of: www.motivatedphotos.com/?id=46109

Day 239: Xena-esque Pearls

After reviewing the statistics for this blog (visitors, when visited, etc.), I realized I could post twice a week instead of only once. I think, also, instead of my usual fare, I'm going to post a series of a projected twenty-one articles over the next twenty-one Tuesdays. Fridays will still contain my weekly Project post; I'm running this as an experiment to see how it does.



"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies." -Proverbs 31:10


It seems nearly every woman who has a blog or writing outreach at some point writes about the proverbial virtuous woman. Some posts are rote and predictable, others are a-flutter with Victorian lacy-ness and tea cups. I want to do something different.

I will confess. I have never been a fluffy girl and, while opulent luxury impresses and entices me, lace and quirked pinkies never have. Having grown up as the leader of a pack of six boys (and one girl), my interests and pursuits tended toward the intriguingly mysterious and the masculine... on occasion, too much so.

For years I scoffed at "girly" things and carried a thinly-veiled sneer in my heart toward most things feminine, including (flutter, flutter) virtuous womanhood. I never fit in with most girls, tended to avoid large groups of females, and couldn't stand (and yet was attracted to) the giddy gossip and fascination with everything from hair and makeup to listing ideal characteristics of the hypothetical Mr. Right.

Having a fairly conservative and respectable upbringing, it should be no surprise that from my youngest days, I was taught to be a godly young lady (not a bad thing at all). Sadly for me, I chose to subtly buck the system and harbor rebellion toward godly femininity; and it showed. So it should be no surprise to learn the one thing I really hated to hear about was the Proverbs 31 woman.

"Sissy" was the word which scornfully lingered in my mind whenever the topic arose. It wasn't until I was in my mid-twenties that I began to learn some hard and occasionally hurtful lessons all pointing to the fact that guys don't marry "one of the guys" and many men will rise above accepted minimums and treat a woman as a woman if she will let them. Not only that, but men LIKE women to act like women. ::shock::

Around this time, I re-examined Proverbs 31. In verse ten, the whole description starts off with that pressing question: Who can find a virtuous woman? But what exactly does that mean? Is that some princess in a tower, helplessly waiting to be rescued? Is that a forgotten woman stitching hundreds of napkins and tablecloths for her hope chest? Perhaps it is a powerful executive type who earns six figures each year?

Different translations shed a bit of light. Other versions refer to the virtuous woman as excellent, worthy, and valiant. I particularly like valiant; it has such a warrior-esque and triumphant ring to it. To be valiant, one must have valor; a quality of a hero (or heroine), courage or boldness as in battle, bravery, strength.

Then I realized. This namby-pamby, virtuous Proverbs 31 woman I had envisioned for so many years wasn't even close to what was being described here. Dude! The man to whom this letter was written was being advised to actively seek out a really strong woman. Whoa.

In the Hebrew, the word which means "who can find" (maw-tsaw') is not just talking about halfheartedly looking around, it means "to come forth" and "to attain." This is a very purposeful directive to find and acquire this strong woman.

The Hebrew word "chayil" (khah'-yil) is translated in the King James Version as "virtuous," yet the meaning of the original word is so much more powerful - though if you delve into the meaning of the word "virtuous," you will find the same gist. "Chayil" refers to a force. (ooOOoo) What kind of force? This word could be describing a force of "men, means, or resources; an army, wealth, virtue, valor, strength."

Yikes! We're not exactly seeing the description of a sissy. What's even more interesting, the dude was told to go out and find someone who exemplified those strong, powerful characteristics.

Now before you jump up from your desk and run out the door with a tribal Amazonian yell to extol the virtues of Xena: Warrior Princess or Sheena: Queen of the Nile, realize that the last word in the description is "woman."

How do we take such strong, forceful, powerful characteristics and package them as a female that is not "one of the guys"? Good question. I'm still asking that myself and will hopefully delve deep enough in this series of articles to answer those questions for you, but really, I'm hoping for answers for myself.

This blog is about the Ruth Cooper Project, and I do emphasize "project." I am on some sort of journey to find who I am (epic music begins to soar in the background); who did God make me to be? I am so blessed to have each of you as part of my life and as readers and participants in this Project. You are vital; make no mistake about that!

One other thing really struck me from this verse. This valorous woman is valued far above rubies, or so the King James says. Did you know the actual word in the Hebrew is "paniyn" (paw-neen')? This word translates as "pearl" but it also means "redness," thus, I would imagine, the translation into "ruby." That bothered me, because I've always thought of pearls as cream or pastel; so what's with the redness denoted in the translation?

Well. I researched and discovered that ancient pearl fisheries were mainly in what we know today as the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. Living in these areas is a large, fairly delicate oyster known as "pinna" or "wing-shell" in Hebrew. Occasionally, this particular type of oyster produces a translucent pink pearl; something that was so rare its rarity caused it to be highly prized and therefore, extremely valuable.

Pearls, throughout history, have been regarded as symbols of purity, innocence, honesty, harmony, and wealth... even a symbol of Jesus Christ himself. There are no pearls in the precious stones forming the foundation of the heavenly Jerusalem, there are no pearls in the breastplate of the high priest... pearls are used when referring to sharing the salvation message (pearls) with those not ready to receive it (swine) and when describing the very gates of heavenly Jerusalem itself.

All this rich symbolism and I think my favorite comes from the very construction of the pearl itself. No pearl is made without great irritation and pain to the oyster in which it resides. The pearl is the result of the oyster dealing with an irritating bit of sand or grit; and the transformation from irritant to lustrous beauty is breathtaking.

This is how I want to be. I want to be that strong, brave, and powerful woman that shines with the luminous glow of feminine beauty. I want the world to see the transformation God has worked within me; taking my hard edges and pain and irritations and transforming that into soft, glowing visage... something priceless and something my husband will treasure.

Jason worked very hard to have me be his wife... he went out and saw someone he wanted to spend his life with (me... ::giggle::). That wasn't the end of the story; it was just the beginning. He persevered, he fought, he persisted and after the longest two-and-one-half years, he acquired that which he desired. He saw something of value and I want to be sure I am (and continue to develop into) that strong little pearl he believes me to be.

Being a virtuous woman is not easy and is certainly NOT for sissies or the faint-of-heart.

Day 235: The Axiom of Choice

Through the still quiet of the pre-dawn darkness came the ultimate sound of irritation: the incessant beeping of the alarm clock. What a nasty way to be awoken from the deepest of sleep and what dark ruminations exist toward the inventor of such a fiendish creation. Emerging from a sleepy fog, the call of the gym and the workout becomes more clear and with it a dilemma... or is it a choice?

I'm sure all of us at one time or another have experienced the [insert emotion here] of being awoken by an alarm clock, and I have to wonder how many people (except for those few perfect ones) have a love-hate relationship with that bit of electronics. I've been grateful for the alarm. I've been angry. I've been disappointed. I've been discouraged. I've even been delighted to hear that garish beep.

So let's face it. Could it be that the issue lies not with the alarm itself, but with each of us as individuals? Could it be that our response to that call to awaken arises, not from that lowly item, but from a plethora of emotions and thoughts which occur, sometimes, even before we go to sleep.

I find it ironic that I had planned most of the week to write on this particular topic.

Ironic because I had set my alarm for five this morning, giving me enough time to awaken, dress, and get to the gym by half past. This was important because Jason needed to leave the house at eight after seven, giving me 1.5 hours at the gym. This meant I would be able to just barely do my cycling and swimming for the day, but not the weights. I would have to be very punctual and have minimum transition times to accomplish this.

Well... the alarm went off at five. I snoozed it for ten, knowing I still had plenty of time. Saw the clock read twenty past and then I did it; I rolled over and re-enveloped myself in the warm and inviting down comforter and soft, fuzzy pillow. Yes, I got some more sleep (which I did actually need), but there were consequences.

I am now behind a full day of my training schedule and will have to make it up. Usually this means my Saturday - which I have allocated as my Rest Day - becomes a normal workout day because I took Friday off. ::sigh:: Not only that, but I miss out on the benefits of working out in the morning (perhaps I shall speak on those in a later post).

What happened? I lost focus of WHY the alarm was set in the first place. I needed to get up with the alarm because I'm working on losing weight. To lose weight, I'm following a training schedule which will culminate in a triathlon. To follow that training schedule for today, I needed to be up by five. Kinda sounds like the kingdom being lost for want of a nail, yes? Today, I was only thinking of the self-centered, emotion-of-the-moment reason for turning the alarm clock off and staying in bed.

How often does this happen in our lives? Where have we switched our focus from the longer-vision WHY we are doing to the more instant gratification and emotions of the moment? This perspective on life and our actions in that life applies to so many areas. WHY can't you have that slice of cake? WHY can't you buy that cute pair of shoes? WHY are you forbidding your child to whine?

These questions, when taken alone, seem depriving and depressing. It is only when the big picture is added back in and the WHY is answered that things make sense and lose that seemingly depriving state. I can't have that slice of cake because I am choosing to regain my pre-wedding weight. I can't buy that cute pair of shoes because I want to be debt-free. I am forbidding my child to whine because in life, whining is not the correct way to deal with disappointment or frustration.

As I thought last night about what I would share with you today, I had determined I would share with you my own personal success in this area: the area of focusing and acting on your WHY. ::tiny trumpet sounds in the background:: Instead, after this morning, I realized I only had a failure to share...

The old me would have drowned this failure in a blueberry biscuit or two from Hardee's, would have reveled in depression and posted a dismal Facebook status update, and most likely would have "boosted" my crushed spirits and faltering morale with a "comforting" full-spread Outback steak dinner.

That, however and thank God, is not me any more.

True, I did not meet the goal I set for myself this morning. Is that a reason for abject depression and abandonment of my exercise and weight-loss goals? Absolutely not. Instead, I admit I made a mistake and now I will move forward to have a productive, positive day with resolve to improve on tomorrow's performance.

All of life is a choice. Every single event you face, you have a choice. You are never the victim. I find it more and more like my mom used to tell me, "It doesn't matter what anyone else does, it only matters what you do." I have taken that little saying and have applied it to my own standard of living: I cannot control what others do to or around me, but I certainly can control how I respond in ANY given situation.

This week, I challenge you. I want you to choose and control your responses to the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune... [the] sea of troubles... the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to." Remember (or, in some cases, discover) your WHYs and reform your thoughts and responses to the minutia of life. It's your life; chose to live it well.