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 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.

Week One: Dedication

It was one of the more beautiful days of October and could not have been more perfect. The sun shone brightly down on the little white chapel and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves resting by the just-opened door.

A mischievous gust caught the veil of the radiant woman and caused it to caress the face of the beaming gentleman beside her. Oblivious to these plays by nature, the two stepped from the church and into the world as husband and wife.

Thus began a whirlwind adventure...

Nine months after that joyous day, an adorable bundle of baby boy was added, amid much celebration, to the couple-now-turned-family. A mere sixteen months later, these three looked down into the tiny face of yet another addition.

One could say they lived happily ever after. Or, perhaps, assume a blissful existence surrounded the growing family. In truth, though much happiness and laughter floated through the house, there was a heaviness which made itself evermore present as time passed...

Okay... That was a nice story... but the heaviness which became present was, in fact, weight gained.

I am that once-slim bride of 798 days ago. For the two months in which the wedding was planned, I worked feverishly to get my weight down to a poundage I would feel comfortable displaying in a sleeveless wedding gown!!! It would do well to interject here that I had never worn anything sleeveless in public, much less with such a low back! The pressure was on to make sure I didn't look as if I had been stuffed into the dress.

My method of losing weight wasn't healthy, but it worked and twenty pounds lighter on the day of my wedding, I weighed less than I had weighed in ten years! Not only that, but I was wearing a size twelve dress... a size I had only ever dreamed of for the past eight to ten years! The elation I felt each time I looked in a mirror or felt the looseness of my old clothing was something I had dreamed of for so long and I looked forward to wearing all the smaller-size clothing I had bought for the honeymoon and future life with my husband.

My anticipation was short-lived as I packed on fifteen pounds the month after our wedding, only to discover at the end of that month that I was expecting our first child! My only explanation for the weight gain that accompanied this pregnancy was the semi-depression/shock state I sank into. I ate everything, loved drinking juices and sodas, and preferred to eat out rather than cook... Add to this scenario the complete lack of any exercise or physical activity - I sat at my desk most of the day, only getting up for necessities or to move to another location where I would resume sitting.

In nine months, I gained 115 pounds!!

After our son was born, I swore that I would lose all this hideous weight; I was so disgusted with how I looked. After two or three weeks, I had lost forty-two pounds, but soon lost my resolve and discovered fountain Pepsi again! I talked much about losing the weight and often vocalized my dread of becoming pregnant again at this enormous weight.

To help accomplish this goal, my wonderful husband gave me the gift of a YMCA membership and we began working out seriously and watching our weight. For three months, I worked out diligently at the gym and attended weight meetings... all without losing a SINGLE pound!!!

Suddenly, I lost twenty pounds within two weeks!!

That was the month our son turned eight months old and the month I discovered that I was once again pregnant. I was very disappointed in myself and in the fact that I had only managed to lose twenty pounds in eight months. It wasn't long before I stopped going to the gym and went back to eating whatever whenever.

Overall, my second pregnancy was better and healthier and my total weight gain was five to fifteen pounds until the last week, when the total weight gain hit twenty pounds above where I had been at the beginning of the pregnancy. Not bad!

It has now been six weeks since the birth of my second son and I have decided that enough is enough. Though I have lost all the birth weight from this second pregnancy, I still have 110 pounds to drop just to reach my wedding weight, which (slim as I had gotten) was still 30 pounds away from my goal weight!

This morning, I completely scared and disgusted myself with the realization that the 60" tape measure with which I was measuring my waist almost didn't make it all the way around!! I have NEVER been this heavy before and truly hate it!

I have a closet full of beautiful clothing I cannot wear and instead have been wearing the same maternity clothes for the past two years. That is depressing! In my mind's eye, I don't realize just how big I am and how much weight I've put on - I always picture myself as being MUCH smaller. A trip past a mirror dispels that illusion quickly each time.

Because I have difficulty in sticking with a project until its finish, I have started this blog in the hope that by sharing my struggles and successes, my failures and victories, my tears and laughter, that I may achieve the weight goal I have sought to accomplish for so many long years of self-loathing and in so doing, encourage my readers to achieve whatever goals have been eluding them.

To give my self-challenge finite boundaries, I have elected to reach my goal weight by 25 July... in time for one of my best friend's wedding where I will be a bridesmaid for the very first time! Nothing like being a bridesmaid to a tiny, petite woman and her tiny, petite friends to inspire my grossly obese 5'8" frame to dwindle away. This is a wonderful motivation!

I have 32 whole weeks (or 224 days) in which to lose 140 pounds... this is an average of 4.375 pounds lost per week or 0.625 pounds per day. If a pound of flesh is accumulated by the consumption of 3,500 calories, then a pound of flesh is evaporated by the expenditure of 3,500 calories... which means a total of 2187.5 calories must be burned every day above and beyond what calories are consumed.

Is it possible?

I honestly don't know, but I have to try.

Weekly posts I will promise and most likely will include mid-week updates on my journey; my project. I will post weekly pictures and weight and inches lost. With camera and pen, I have documented my starting weight as well as the circumferences of no fewer than twelve points upon my body.

At some point, I shall reveal my actual numbers, but I would actually like to have a bit of progress before exposing myself to that painful level of embarrassment.

I hope you will read and that you will find some encouragement along your own path, be it weight related or no. Feel free to point out mistakes or errors I may make along the way... this is, after all, the Ruth Cooper Project.