Weighty Issues

Weighty Issues

I am fat. There…I said it. Finally the secret I have long held inside is out. Whew!

It isn’t as if I didn’t say it out loud and in a public forum that it would make it real, I mean, anyone who looked at me twice, would be able to see I am fat. However, saying it out loud makes it “out there” now.

I can remember the very first time someone called me fat. I was all of about ten years old and the hurtful words were meant to wound me. It was my brother who had been upset over something I cannot remember. I can still feel the way I cringed over the word, a word spoken to hurt and hurt it did. I crept up the stairs to my mother’s room and stood in front of the full length mirror turning this way and that trying to see what fat looked like.

In the reflection was a girl who had a small rounded belly, long bird legs along with a flat chest and in that moment, the belly grew larger in my eyes. I was now fat, it had been confirmed and the struggles began. Forever after that moment I would wrestle not only with the word, but with my weight. I had been labeled and I felt as if my very fatness was growing by the moment.

From that moment on, my life revolved around my weight. As I look back at pictures of myself at that age, I am amazed at the pencil thin girl with long brown hair and cat-like eyes. My face was thin, legs long and slender and my belly, well, it is almost non-existent. My issue with my weight may have begun at age ten, but it wasn’t until much later that the actual real live, honest to God fat developed.

My teen years were fraught with trying to fit in and living a life at home that was anything but normal. An alcoholic mother who often was so insecure she would lash out at me to get me to cry, crying to her meant love. If I would cry she must have felt I loved her. Her sickness, my co-dependency was all instrumental in my weight issues. I wanted to fit in, fit in at home, at school and with all the pretty girls I came in contact with during those years. I wanted my mom to love me and the girls at school to accept me.

I learned early to carry myself tall and straight, sucking in my abdomen to make me appear thinner than I would ever feel. The looks I got as I walked down the hallway made me more self conscious. I felt that the eyes must be examining my fat. I felt so insecure I would hide myself within. I was considered stuck up by school mates, stiff and unapproachable. Little would the kids I went to school with know the home life I led and the reasons behind my shy, quiet nature nor little did I know that the boys liked what they saw and made the girls jealous.

So my journey began. I developed a chest that was quite large. I was a late bloomer in that department, or so I thought, but in fact developed womanly curves far beyond my age. The fact I was curvy and taller than most of the girls in my class, only made me stand out more.

Throughout the years, my weight has gone up and down, up and down, and not unlike a roller coaster and often making me so frustrated. When I read back at old journals or New Year’s resolutions, my weight issue has always been at the top of my entries.

So here I go again, only this time I am in my fifties and the metabolism is almost non-existent. For the next several months, I shall blog about this “Fat Girl” inside or outside of me. As I begin yet again another weight loss journey, I pray I can whittle away the “Fat Girl” and find inside the real me. Thin or fat, there is a self discovery in process. Anyone who has ever had a weight issue may well recognize themselves in my story.

Teresa Gale

Stuff

I have a lot of…stuff. My kids, my husband, my family and a few friends all make jokes about all my…stuff. I view my treasures very differently than they do, however, I am beginning to feel claustrophobic.

As I sit here in my downstairs family room situated in what I always have felt a quite cozy home, I survey the room. What happened? How did I get to this place?

A stack of “want to read” books surround me. I love books, I love the feel of pages, the scent of paper and the words filling the pages with stories that will take me to far off places. I adore books that touch the heartstrings, books that make me laugh, make me cry and leave me in suspense as I turn the pages. As a matter of fact, I will admit…I am a book addict. I cannot pass a book store without picking one up and adding it to my “want to read” stack.

However, my books are taking over. I have them stacked beside me, behind me, in a basket at my feet and on a small ledge by the window. I have bibles that I took to Israel three times, a bible I truly treasure filled with notes on thoughts and feelings. I have another bible that belonged to the kid’s great grandmother and one of the first few I read as a young Christian. I have journals and journals telling my story on shelves in my room. I have baby books revealing the start of little lives stored away for keeps.

I find it interesting the stuff we keep, the stuff we collect throughout the years. In my family room, on almost every table or stand, I could pick up something that “means” something special to me. There are several items the kids made me, bought me or gave to me. Some of the items the grandchildren gave to me that I treasure. When I look at the stuff, I can’t bear the thought of pitching it. My children, most of them are now grown, have no idea that some of these seemingly insignificant gifts mean something to me.

The family room has that “lived in look”. In other less kind words, it’s a mess. As I look straight ahead of me, my coffee table is loaded with stuff, my fireplace houses photo albums waiting to be transformed into scrapbooks and the television holds photos, candles and a clock. It’s a mess filled with my stuff. On the mantle over the fireplace I have a brick from the brick yard my Papaw Bill worked at and a rock from my dear Aunt Pauline’s yard. These small things tie me to my family. Strange, huh? I mean, they are only things right?

I have mementos from travels, distant places around the world. There are two pillows from Panama on a trip my brother, God bless his heart, took me on. I have rocks from the three trips to Israel he and I traveled to, a photo book from New York City where I traveled with my four girls one weekend, I have items from Belgium, Paris and many other travels surrounding my home. They all bring back a flood of memories when I see them.

Upstairs in my dining room, I have my Great-Grandmother Pitts dishes, antiques for sure. I love those dishes stored in a hutch the girls Great-Grandfather on their father’s side built with his own hands. The dishes were once promised to me by my dear Grandmother Goldie and before she passed, I carefully packed them up and took them home. I cried as I dropped two plates while I was washing them to put them away. They tie me to a past, a place where families had sit down dinners together, where loving hands made the meals and decorated their meager living spaces. I was a little girl when my grandmother served me a meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes made with real butter on these very plates. I remember her loving look as she patted me on the head and told me the pretty plates, mix matched for sure, would one day be mine. After her death I brought them home and on our first Thanksgiving in our new home, I served my girls a big meal on them.

These very dishes served a family of five over 75 years before. Although they are not a whole set anymore, one plate I managed to glue back together, they belonged to my past, they link me to two very special ladies in my life and have now served five generations. I can almost picture my petite Great-grandmother setting the plate to her giant sized husband and three little girls. The dishes hold history for me, family and friends breaking bread and sharing lives over a meal.

How could I part with these treasures? Would they ever begin to mean the same things to my children, or my children’s children? The answer is probably not. I know one day I will pass away and the kids will do just as they have joked for years; they will take my stuff out to the backyard and while remembering me I hope fondly, have a huge bonfire. One person’s treasures will become another person’s stuff.

However, I hope, as they are cleaning out my stuff, as they dismantle my life they will pause and remember me. I pray as they hold an item in their hands, most likely shaking their heads, they will see that the tiny picture painted for me years ago by tiny hands was treasured. I keep these things as a silly gesture of those I love. I cannot take these things with me, nor will I need them where I am going. But while I am here, I will look at them fondly, I will remember those I treasured in my life gifting these silly items to me and how much I adored them.

Yes, I have a lot of stuff. I am beginning to part with a few items here and there, things that are not tied to precious memoires. I am downsizing just a little, but not as much as my family would like. I like to think by giving up my stuff now I would be stealing that pleasure of a bonfire filled with memories I smile at the thought of them all gathered together throwing away my stuff and laughing. I can see them now, hugging, maybe crying a bit and laughing together as a family. The bonfire will be bringing them all together thinking of me and the past. The joke is on them.

Teresa Gale

Rescued

Words seldom come to me lately.

Exhaustion has taken over,

Worry creases my brow.

God lights the way, yet

I have been so blind in my darkness.

I am so hurried in my life,

Filling every crack and crevice

That I seldom pause, seldom stop,

Hardly stand still long enough to see.

The fog lifts long enough to see the

Light peek through – yet I struggle

in the mugginess of the haze.

I resign myself.

Stand still, listening in the distance

for Him.

I yearn for rest and love.

My heart tugs – leaping forward in joy!

He reaches beyond the haze and envelopes

me in sunshine.

I bask in His light, in His love.

Dancing with joy I feel lighter.

I am rescued!

Teresa Gale

Sunbeams

Awake to the early dawn hours,
as the sun slips out from under
the blankets of a star filled night.

Rising, the sun chases away,
the ivory moon to bid goodnight.
Yawning, the moon waves
a sleepy farewell.

The golden orange glow,
bathes me in sunbeams,
that warms my soul when
it calls to wake to the
beautiful anchor of light.

A light breeze plays a
soft melody with the
rustling of leaves on trees.
Swish, swish, swish.
The morning's tone is set.

I view the horizon,
Joy jumps in my heart,
As the sun whisks me to
The here and now.

Teresa Gale

Brand New Year

It’s a brand New Year, full of all sorts of wonder and possibilities. I always look forward to a new year and start planning goals right away. For me, a New Year is like a slate wiped clean and ready for new beginnings, new plans and all sorts of fun. I make a list of things I want to see accomplished and then reflect on a plan to go about doing each one. More often than not, I do not finish all my goals. I would guess it is because of the fact my list is so long.

This year is no different. I made my list, organized it into sections of things I wanted to see happen in our home, personal goals and even spiritual goals. I reviewed it again yesterday as we are now mid-way through the month of January. Except for my daily bible reading, a ritual I began years ago, I found I hadn’t given too much thought into some of my goals yet.

I could blame it on my busy life, but if truth be known, I had just been too lazy and not committed enough to do anything about them. Ouch! Truth hurts, especially coming from within my own self. However, if I am to be honest, if I am to succeed, the finger of blame should be pointed right back at me. I have no one else to blame, trust me, I have tried.

You may be asking yourself as you read this post; “Why bother?”
I have asked myself that very question and for a few years I didn’t make any goal setting or resolutions as some may call them. I gave up, waved the white flag of surrender and then sat and waited for life to happen to me. What I found was if I didn’t take control, if I didn’t set goals, then my life seemed stale. I can’t stand stale; I can’t stand just sitting around waiting.

The first half of my life I had been guilty of allowing too many to dictate my life and I was not a happy person. Then for a few years, I tried doing it on my own, that didn’t work either. What I have found is truthfully, I am not in complete control of my own life, only God can be in control. I wrestle with this quite a bit, let me tell you. It is not because I do not have faith in God, it is because I don’t think I should bother Him with little ole me. After all, isn’t He busy with World Peace and bigger issues in the world?

Then as I grew a little older, a little wiser (I am still growing mind you) I realized something. God is my Father, my parent and doesn’t He want the same good things in my life that I want for my children? Wouldn’t I move heaven and earth to help my children with a problem? The answer is a resounding YES!

So this year, as I contemplate my goals, as a matter of fact today even, I will ask God’s will in what I want and then stop wrestling and allow Him to take the reins in my life. I know this is not an instant thing, for I am not an easy child, but it is a start. So today I will begin with prayers over my list, I will cross off the things that don’t really matter and concentrate on the ones that do. Today I will begin anew, refreshed, relaxed and knowing I am in good hands.

Okay God, I am ready, what do you have in mind for me today? Take my hand and led me, I am all yours.

Teresa Gale

Cherish This Day

The days of the month are speeding by like a calendar blowing in the wind. I can’t get over that it is almost the end of the year. I am truly thankful though as this year has been full of challenges and I will be happy to start a new year with a clean slate.

Meantime, the Christmas holidays are up on us. Our Christmases are changing quite a bit now that most of the kids are gone. It is a time of transition in a parent’s life, a time to rethink and adjust. This mother finds it sometimes difficult and lonely. Yet, I can also remember when I was young, newly married and with small children. There were times I wished to make new traditions and after a few years we did just that. Pulling away from a parent’s traditions and beginning one’s own is not a bad thing, it is part of growing up.

I am so blessed to have such wonderful children, six in all. Our oldest is married with two beautiful grandchildren. I can remember the days when she was tiny and in awe of Christmas. Now here she is a mother and wife doing her own thing and I am so proud. Our second oldest daughter is married with a handsome little boy. She and her sister are just one year apart.

When I think of the two of them, the beginning of my young life, my married life, my family life, I get all misty-eyed. They are the children of my youth. I am amazed at how beautiful they have turned out despite my many mistakes and mishaps in parenting. They are each in their own right strong women, intelligent women who have formed into compassionate people.

In counting my blessings this week, I count my children high on the list. They are my lifeblood, my reason for being. God saw fit to bring me six children to love and care for in life. I didn’t not always do well; I stumbled and fell along the way trying to find a step to our dance in life. I did love them the best I could, with every fiber of my being.

They challenged me at times and I challenged them along the way. I would not trade one single moment of my life with any of them. There are moments in which I dream of turning back the hands of time for a chance to be still with them. I hurried too much through life and often feel as if I blinked and they went from newborn in my arms to grown women and men.

It goes all too quickly, this life we have. My prayers to each one of them is to slow down and savor every second of their lives. Dear Children, life will pass you by if you don’t take time to stop the hands and be still. God has given you this beautiful present of a life, use it wisely, slow down and cherish these days, for tomorrow is a day away or not at all. Live this moment and love those you are belong to. I pray for each one of my children and that they may find the true meaning in life. God be with you all.

I love you.
Teresa Gale

Brand New Day

Each day I awake to a brand new day full of so many possibilities, it is what I do with this day that makes it effective. The last few days off from work has been a whirlwind of activity; tis the season of Christmas. I have cleaned, scrubbed, washed, shopped, wrapped, cooked and visited with family. Still I am not as yet done. However, I am not as stressed this year as in the years past.

Every Christmas, I feel it is my duty as a mother to buy, buy, buy more and more gifts that I don’t think anyone needs. My blessing this year is that we put a stop to it. It did take a few years of discussing it. I still have that old nagging guilt, that feeling of I wish I had the money to shop for everyone, but truth is…I think…I might have been set free at last.

Christmas is not about the gifts of material things that matter, I know this in my heart. I still have several beautiful grandchildren to shop for and that makes me happy. Each day off this past week, I have planned, but not to the point of stressing as Christmases past.

December 10th : A day at work, finishing up the last details before I was off and running for a vacation day. The night before was my Wednesday Group from church. I enjoyed a lovely evening with new friends studying God’s word. It was delightful to see them all after a couple weeks break.

December 11th was spent cleaning and decorating. I enjoyed my day off alone to make our home more pleasant. I counted it as a blessing that I was free that whole day just to enjoy the fruits of my labor. God is good, vacation days are blessings. I treasure those times when I can be alone, but know that shortly family will follow. It is great time to do things I never have the chance to do.

December 12 Saturdays are bliss! I love being able to sleep in a little later, although later for me might be 6 or 7 A.M. It is nice to lie in bed with eyes close and listen to the hums and sounds of the house. I can hear the cat at the foot of the bed, trying his hardest to wake me for his can of food. I listen to the wind howl outside and feel thankful I have a warm bed and home surrounding me. The stirrings of the mind begin and up and out of bed I go. Coffee awaits upstairs and the tantalizing smell calls to me.

I then greet husband and settle in the leather sofa for my time with God. I read the bible each morning trying to devour His word. Many times I have to stop my wandering mind and turn it back to Him, but I love reading His word. After an hour in the bible, I switch to devotionals and bible studies. I pray for loved ones along with needs of my prayer group and friends. As I think of each person I lift up to God, I thank Him for them in my life. I am so blessed with my family.

The rest of the day was spent with one of daughters, Suzanne and grandson Cooper shopping for Christmas. What joy in the lights and decorations, what joy in tiny hands reaching for all the bright colors! Spending time with my children is one of the richest blessings in my life. We had a wonderful shopping spree and talked quite a bit. Returning home, Mark had fixed us a most delicious meal. Cooper finally noticed the tree and spent lots of time laughing and reaching for the ornaments. Thank you Lord for the children and grandchildren in my life.

Sunday, December 13: I spent the day at home with the Lord. I opted out of the Church service to spend quality time with God. I poured over the bible, prayed and did my studies. I felt rested and good relaxing and worshiping in my pajamas.
The day went too swiftly, but I managed to wrap several gifts, enjoy time watching two movies with my husband and eating another scrumptious meal. The house was warm, the food was good and the movies were enjoyable.

Now we are on to Monday. I must say one of the blessings I have found this week has been in the emails from my friends at church. Three women who are journeying with me on a new health plan to eat better and mindfully. I have been encouraged, inspired and brought to tears in laughter and stories. Our feelings are sometimes raw, we admit our faults and lift one another up each day. I open my mailbox excitedly to see what is happening in their life that day. I love these ladies and feel truly blessed God has brought them into my life.

As I let the dogs out at 4 A.M. this morning, I was amazed and thankful that on December 14, I didn’t really need more than my sweater. We have no snow on the ground and the air was actually refreshing. I can’t believe our weather.
I counted so many blessings the last few days, everything from weather, friends, family and a roof over our heads. May each day be blessed by all you who read, may you also find the rich blessings in your life. Count them one by one and give thanks.

Teresa Gale