life

So I decided I’d like to lose some weight. I’ve been exercising consistently for awhile now (more on that in a later post) and although I’m seeing results in the mirror, I wasn’t seeing them on the scale. Normally, I’m not a dieter. The very thought makes me want to do burpees. I hate burpees. But I thought, just as an experiment more than anything, I’d try avoiding sugar for about three weeks in April. Nothing too drastic. I think I might have lost a pound or two, but I learned some interesting things. Here are some of them:

Sugar is in everything

Okay, maybe not everything. But seriously. I was only avoiding sugar and other added sweeteners, but I swear, it’s almost impossible to avoid added sugar unless you are also avoiding carbs, dairy, and processed foods, just to name a few. I actually had considered doing a Whole 30, a program that a friend of mine had recommended. I chickened out on that and just avoided sugar instead, but it turns out that’s harder than I thought it would be. If I ever try this again, I’m going to go with the carb-counting method I learned from my nutrition consultation when I had gestational diabetes, or just suck it up and do the Whole 30.

Sugar makes me sick

Not even kidding. On one Sunday morning, after I’d been avoiding sugar for about a week, I accidentally ate two cookies out of habit. About 30 minutes later, I felt terrible. Heart rate went wacky, stomach felt icky, and I got a headache. Then went I went back to eating sugar on my daughter’s birthday, I overloaded and believe me, I felt it. Clearly my body doesn’t handle it well. Sadly, I know that and I just keep eating the stuff anyway.

Some things actually taste good without sugar

First, I should probably confess that although I significantly reduced my sugar intake, I also increased one of my other guilty pleasures: butter. I love butter. Possibly more than sugar. Yes, I realize that eating more butter probably balanced out eating less sugar, and could be the reason I didn’t lose more than a pound or two, but I just kept telling myself that butter was better for me than sugar anyway. So I ate it on toast. Smeared it on pancakes and covered that with strawberries (yes I know pancakes have sugar. I checked the label. See? Everything has sugar) I cooked stuff in it. And it was delicious. Believe me, if a little butter is good, more butter is better.

Okay, enough about butter. I drink a lot of coffee. With creamer and flavored syrup and yes, sometimes whipped cream. All the good stuff. Well, I wasn’t about to give up coffee – I’ve tried that, with disastrous consequences – but I was good and didn’t put sugar in it. Sometimes I drank it black. I can do that. I like coffee. Sometimes I did put milk in it. And half and half. See what I mean about dairy? It’s a problem. But anyway, I discovered that plain, unsweetened lattes are actually really tasty. So now I’ll have my grande hazelnut latte with just one pump of syrup instead of three or four and guess what? It still tastes like an indulgent treat. A little bit of heaven. Happiness in a cup.

I also learned that plain yogurt isn’t actually that nasty. Especially if you put raspberries or blueberries and a teeny dribble of vanilla in it. Or a teaspoon honey. Strictly speaking, honey is an added sweetener (read: sugar) but it sure does make yogurt palatable. And we get honey from a local guy who has his own bees, not the fake crap from the grocery store. So there. Anyway, just today I had some yogurt with raspberries and honey, and I didn’t gag.

Also, homemade Chex Mix is really, really good.

Talking about what I’m not eating makes people uncomfortable

So much of our social interaction revolves around food. I gave up sugar and suddenly people were apologizing for eating it or making stuff with it, or asking me if I’d like dessert and then looking all guilty when I said no. I just wanted to make a sign that says “Please excuse me if my personal food choices are making you feel bad. Get over it.” Instead, I decided that if I ever go on any kind of diet again (somewhat unlikely) I’m not going to tell people about it. It’s just more trouble than it’s worth. So yeah, maybe I’ll just eat the brownie at the potluck. It’s not gonna kill me. It’s kind of like when the Apostle Paul talks about food in 1 Corinthians 8. Do what you have to do. But don’t throw it in people’s faces. Be kind, and gracious, and let other people eat what they want. It’s a good approach to food, and to life.

So much for my brief excursion into dieting. Even if it was short and rather limited. My biggest conclusion? I actually don’t eat that much sugar. I could eat less. But there’s a reason why I’d rather exercise. I love food. All the food. That is all.

I’ve been thinking a lot about past events lately. For lots of reasons, not all of them good, but not all of them bad, either. I’ve also considered writing a memoir – crazy, I know, but all kinds of people are writing memoirs lately and it sounds fun. The past is a tricky thing. People say don’t live in it, don’t waste your time regretting it, what’s done is done…the fact is, what’s done is done, and there’s not a lot we can do about it now. So if we can’t change the past, which is true, and we shouldn’t dwell in it, which is also true, why can’t we just forget about it and move on? Is it possible that we’re not meant to?

Memories are fascinating. They are not always accurate. They are colored by our impressions of the circumstances, the people involved, our moods, either when the memory was created or recalled. And so the past becomes this vast subjective thing, where conversations and events are altered through our interpretations and impressions, either true or false. Very often, memories of the past are tainted with regret. I should have made a better choice. I wish I’d known then what I know now. What if I had done something or said something differently? Could I have done more? Should I have done less?

Then there are the parts of the past that we’d just rather not think about. Dark old secrets, the kind that lay buried most of the time, but sometimes bits and pieces show up, not always at the most convenient times. What do we do with them? Try to forget them? Wish they had never happened? For what it’s worth, here’s the perspective I’ve gained this week:

The failures of the past are more than just errors in judgment that we wish we could forget. As a believer in Christ, cleansed by his blood, I am forgiven of all those mistakes, and even the intentional sins I’ve committed. But I still remember them, even though sometimes I wish I could forget. Why? Because those things have shaped who I am today. There is no point in wishing they had never happened. I am forgiven, I’ve moved on, but in that process, my life and my character were changed. There was most likely an impact in others’ lives that they’ll never forget, either. We do this life thing together, and in some way, every choice we make changes our lives and the lives of people around us, in good ways and bad ways, for all eternity. That knowledge makes me want to live better in the future, make better choices now, so that the impact I leave on the lives of others is positive, not detrimental.

We can’t change the past. We can let it change us. Make us better, wiser, more forgiving of others’ mistakes. And when those things do pop up and we remember them, we can also remember where we came from, where we are now, and find reasons to be thankful for the blessings in our lives, both now and in the past. Most of all, I am thankful for the grace of God that covers my past, redeems it, and makes me new.

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:19, ESV)

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.  (2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV)

Through an interesting set of circumstances, I’ve recently had an opportunity to evaluate some of my closest friendships, and I’ve learned some things. About life, about friends, and about my friends, in particular.  I think some of it is worth sharing.

I’m not a particularly outgoing person. I used to consider myself an introvert and I suppose that’s still true to some extent, although I like people much better now than I once did. I was very shy growing up, and being homeschooled didn’t give me much of an opportunity to break out of my shell. It wasn’t until after college, when I started my Mary Kay business, that I finally realized that I actually like people. Still, I’ve never had a huge group of friends. I tend to have a small handful of people that I know and trust, a larger circle of friends I genuinely enjoy spending time with, and then plenty of acquaintances who I’ll smile and chitchat with, but who really don’t know me at all. Most of those people tend to think I’m sweet. My friends know better. My close friends really know me, and love me anyway. At least, that’s how I see it.

I find that in life it’s helpful to think the best of people, but not trust them too much. Still, most of the time I’d rather err on the side of trust. There are times I regret that. But I’d rather love people and have real relationships where I might get hurt than put up walls and be fake. To me, that doesn’t sound like any kind of life. Anyway, here’s what I’ve learned about true friends:

A true friend is a friend all the time. Good times, bad times, fun times, hard times. A true friend knows my faults, maybe not all of them but most of them, but doesn’t fault me for them. A true friend will listen to me go on and on for hours or maybe even days, or sometimes even longer, about what is going on in my life. Even after I say, “Ok, now I’m done. Oh wait, one more thing…” A true friend will listen to my secrets and my fears and keep them quiet. A true friend will have my back when times get tough. A true friend is honest. A true friend won’t tell me “oh, you’re fine, everything will be okay” when it’s obvious that I’m not, and it won’t. A true friend won’t tell me what to do unless I actually ask for advice. A true friend is willing to let me make my own mistakes, pray me through them, and be there for me afterward without the obvious but belittling “I told you so.” True friends can have fun doing little stupid stuff, and big fun stuff, laugh at a gazillion inside jokes, and talk about nothing or important things anytime, for hours if necessary. A true friend has the courage to correct me in person, rather than going behind my back.

I have discovered that I may have fewer true friends than I thought, but I am so thankful for the ones I have. I hope that I am always the kind of friend I hope to have in my life. Because when the hard times do come, and they always will, it’s good to have a few good friends.