Instant oatmeal is a wonder of modern technology. Just add water, microwave, and breakfast is served. I never really considered this breakfast staple in any other fashion until I recently started opting for more whole food options rather than their processed counterparts. Do you know what I learned?
Oatmeal is good.
I mean, really good. It’s good sweet with brown sugar or savory with veggies and spices. Oatmeal in my home is no longer meally and chemically tasting, but hearty and delicious, equally suitable for breakfast and dinner.
It may be a silly example, but in my quest for better health I have seen multiple correlations regarding oatmeal and other good choices in my life.
Good choices are intentional.
“Fast food” is mindless. Just grab and go. Quality food takes time to prepare and enjoy. The same is true in life. When I take time to outline and write by hand, my content is better. It’s more real and honest. It’s cleaner and more on point. When I write on screen, the temptation to publish too quickly takes over. Quality is traded for the instant gratification of feedback.
The same can be seen in art. Designers tell customers they can have something done fast, cheap, or good, but you can only pick two. Writing, design, business, parenting—whatever your focus, remember that the default choices might be easy and convenient, but the best choices are intentional and require time.
Good choices multiply.
In this small change of choosing whole foods, I have also discovered new foods that I enjoy. I’ve tried kale, fresh mango, star fruit, quinoa, goat cheese, and a number of other things. I’ve tried new recipes and new tips for food preparation. I’ve also changed my cleaning supplies to all natural choices, and some beauty products as well.
Why? Because one area of life flows into the next. Everything is connected.
This also applies to bad choices. One Netflix video can easily become five and so on. Making sure that your choices are intentional will plant seeds in many areas in your life for positive change.
Knowledge really is power…for change.
I used to think that organic options and clean living products were gimmicks to try to get people to spend more at the grocery store. But then I started learning what actually happens to our bodies when we put things on our skin and eat without guidelines. The truth propelled me to change.
This echoes my last post about what happened when I learned about sex trafficking and modern day slavery. That knowledge completely shifted my focus and even changed my life direction. I no longer look for the cheapest products at stores because I am informed on how slave labor is used in developing many of those products. Often, saving a few dollars in America costs those overseas their freedom. It’s worth it to me to spend more money on products that are being sourced ethically than to get a good deal. Knowledge fueled that change. The more I learn, the more I allow that knowledge to shape my choices, the better I am as an individual and leader.
Small changes can make a big impact.
Am I 100% consistent in making wise choices? No. Sometimes the instant oatmeal way of life wins. But I am choosing the good over the easy more and more because I want to be a woman of quality, good health, and good conscience.
As an example, I was encouraged today by a post from Humans of New York. Currently, the photographer behind the internet sensation is in Pakistan recording the lives of the people in that country. He did a series of photos on the fate of the people working in brick kilns against their will. He told his followers about Fatima, a woman fighting against all odds to bring her fellow citizens freedom. In just three days, HONY followers raised nearly $2 million dollars to help Fatima fight bonded labor in her country. One guy with one camera chose to spend one month of his summer in a foreign place. Because of his influence, he has made a huge impact on the future of those trapped in horrific conditions that would otherwise never have a way out. Little things matter.
So tell me, have you had any life impacting realizations over breakfast? If so, I’d love to hear about them in the comments below.
Also, If you are interested in supporting my ministry or taking part in my writing process, please visit my Patreon page to learn more about how you can do so.
Thank you for stopping by today! Your readership and engagement means so much.
I have often joked about being incapable of feeling, and I’ve even been called an ice queen on more than one occasion. But the truth is more complicated than that.
The truth is, I am at the opposite side of the emotional spectrum with those who identify as HSP’s (Highly Sensitive Persons) and empaths. Instead of feeling nothing, our default is to feel everything. We have highly tuned nervous systems which makes us very sensitive to sounds, tastes, lights, colors, and other things that seem normal to the rest of the population. Empaths have a heightened sensitivity to others emotions and physical energies. We not only pick up on others emotional levels, but also subconsciously internalize those emotions. This can be incredibly helpful in counseling situations, but it can also be overwhelming and physically draining, even causing physical ailments at times.
As a defense mechanism, HSP’s and empaths learn to put up walls and shut things out. We don’t watch the news. We don’t listen to stories about broken bones and surgeries. We use earbuds in crowded areas to ward off sensory overload. We ignore our imaginations, we shut down our emotions, and sometimes we flat out refuse to care.
disease
crime
genocide
puppy mills
food deserts
ISIS
human trafficking
homelessness
child labor
contaminated water
abusive relationships
It’s too much. The hurt is too great, the world is too big, and we often feel that we are too small to stem the tide. What can one person do? And if we care about one thing, we have to care about EVERYTHING, right? So…into the sand we go, head first.
When I first learned about sex trafficking, I was shocked and appalled, which quickly turned into a wildfire of anger. Maybe because I’m a woman, or an aunt, or afraid of rape, or because I’m an empath—it’s difficult to say. But the truth gripped my heart that day and refused to let go.
You can imagine my confusion when I started sharing what I had learned and people didn’t want to know. I heard things like “I just can’t think about that” and “I have too many other things to worry about.” Several people said, “doesn’t that just happen overseas?” as if an act so evil against one human doesn’t impact us all.
I didn’t understand how people could react in these ways until I saw myself in the same light. I too had become deadened to the pain of others in many areas. I’ve chosen, at times, to look away from the hungry man holding the cardboard sign. I’ve clicked away from the photos of innocents being beheaded, and turned off videos discussing embryos being dissected for their organs.
Hiding is easy. Pretending to not see has its benefits.
But what if we did see? What if we did feel?
What if we had a God who was powerful enough to change things?
What would the world look like if we made the decision to feel again? What if we faced the injustices around us and responded with “God can” instead of “I can’t”? What if we looked at the pictures of people trapped in slavery? What if we read the stories about the displaced refugees fleeing ISIS?
What if we fought the ostriches inside of us and took a stand?
There is a war against humanity raging all around us, and Satan is the captain at the helm. We can numb ourselves in our bunkers with our lattes and Gucci bags, or we can strap on our helmets of salvation and our shields of faith and storm the gates of poverty, slavery, disease, and more.
We who are Christians have been given freedom in Christ. It is a precious gift that came at an unimaginable price. To hoard what we have makes me question whether we really received the genuine article or if we just wanted to join Christianity as a social status choice. To truly be carriers of the gospel, we must accept our responsibility to take it to the streets, the homeless shelters, and the refugee camps.
“By this we know love, that He laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers.” 1 John 3:16
Thank you so much for coming by my blog today and reading these words. It’s an honor I do not take lightly. If you are interested in supporting my ministry or taking part in my writing process, please visit my Patreon page to learn more.
You know that girl that is always two (or five) years behind the trend? She excitedly tells you about this amazing group she just heard and you’re not sure if you should let her enjoy her discovery or tell her that the group’s third album just went platinum and ask her for the address of the rock she’s living under. That girl is normally me, but not this time!
Yesterday I stumbled across an America’s Got Talent audition video of the comedian @TheDrewLynch. Drew took the stage last week and brought the crowd to their feet. His performance granted him the coveted #GoldenBuzzer which sends a contestant straight to the live shows at Radio City Music Hall. His routine made me laugh, but his story made me cry…big, fat, messy tears.
Four years ago Drew was a normal, 19 year old kid until a softball accident injured nerves in his vocal chords. That injury gave him a severe stutter and dramatically changed his life. Today, Drew is preparing content for a live comedy show in New York City.
There are a few elements to Drew’s story that especially touched my heart and started the water works.
He Chose Humility Over Bitterness
While waiting for his audition, Drew fights strong emotion and tells the cameraman a bit of his story.
The person I was before would probably never hang out with who I am today. I thought people were lucky if they got to talk to me. That was…[I was] a jerk.
By his own admission, Drew thought a lot of himself before the accident and acted in ways that he is ashamed of today. This incident could have further pointed Drew down a bad road, turning him into an angry, bitter, backward-focused individual. Instead he chose humility. He channeled the bad into good, allowing the difficulty to refine him into a better person.
He Has a Loving Support System
Drew attributes much of his success to his girlfriend. In the midst of his anger, she encouraged him to work through his frustrations by talking about them on stage. She also works three jobs so that he can focus on becoming a comedian.
Her quiet faithfulness behind the scenes moves me because of the correlation I see to ministry and the church. Our goal for Infusion is to create a full-service network of women helping women so those who have no support system can have the resources and encouragement they need to become the people God intended for them to be. No one reaches their full potential alone.
He Turned Tragedy Into Triumph
Everyone loves a good comeback story.They give us hope and courage. Drew shares both on and off stage that his goal is to show others that “you can turn anything to a positive.” Howie Mandel, the judge who granted Drew his golden confetti moment, said it well in his summary of Drew’s performance.
What you did is you looked for the light at the end of the darkness. And that light is your comedy. I’m telling you I haven’t been moved by an act like this up until this moment.
Howie’s comments and subsequent award of the #GoldenBuzzer brought Drew to his knees. He covered his face and released tears of what I imagine were a mixture of joy, relief, hope, and gratitude. It was thrilling to watch, but that victorious moment was only possible because he chose to keep moving toward the light.
I encourage you to take a few minutes to watch Drew’s audition via the link below. When you’re through wiping your eyes and blowing your nose, come on back and share your comments below. And don’t forget…”you can turn anything into a positive!”
Yesterday I watched a video of a commercial in which the two entrance doors of a building were labeled “beautiful” and “average.” It records how the women felt after choosing one label over another. As soon as I saw the purpose of the doors I thought, “there should be a third door labeled fat for me.” I realized in that moment that this labeling had been increasing in my thoughts and language.
I thought of three times I jokingly referred to #FatGirlProblems in the past week. I wondered if I was the only one? No, Twitter reveals #FatGirlProblems to be a popular hashtag used by many beautiful women, thin and heavy alike. Common among them was not their dress size, but the way they talked to themselves and about themselves.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been the fat girl. In fourth grade, a classmate asked me if I was big boned or just fat. In sixth grade I weighed 160 pounds. I remember thinking many adults weighed close to that. If I could maintain that weight until adulthood I would be normal.
High school brought Spirit Week which meant costume contests. One year I dressed up as Miss America. I still remember the laughter of the popular girls. “Like she could ever be in a beauty pageant.”
College came and I found myself orchestrating a banquet. One of the guys carrying in a wicker bench stated it was on loan with a weight restriction of 200 pounds. After relaying the news, he looked a bit startled, turned to me, and said, “no offence.” I was too stunned to reply that I weighed 170 at the time.
After a tumultuous senior year and a move into my first full-time job my weight rose to 230 pounds. I joined a popular weight loss program, bought their pre-packaged food items, and went to the meetings. Ten weeks and four pounds later, I quit the program.
A few years later, my job became increasingly stressful and I found myself eating half of what I was accustomed to taking in. I fairly quickly dropped ten pounds. But as quickly as I lost the weight, I stopped losing the weight. I decided once again to try professional help.
I joined a gym and met with a personal trainer. I encouraged several other friends to come to the gym with me. I was having fun, getting stronger, and fitting into smaller clothes. I felt great, and for the first time in my life, I felt that I looked great too. After a year of hard work I had finally managed to dip beneath the 200 mark.
I was proud of my accomplishment, but a friend let me know that I was pretty and smart, but if I ever wanted to get married, I would have to lose more weight. Men are visual creatures after all. I argued on the outside, but inside I accepted that he was right.
Shortly after that I took a new job in a new state and decided to go back to school as well. Gone was my disposable income and time. I quickly gained back the 30 pounds I had struggled so hard to lose. I was discouraged and tired of trying. If all the weight returned the second I quit spending hours in the gym every week, how could I possibly live like that?
Since then I have tried new diets, and purchased my share of exercise DVD’s while begging God for answers and watching the numbers on the scale go up. In my research, I have discovered that there is a condition that explains my symptoms, but with very little hope for a positive resolution.
In some ways, having a label has helped. At least I know what I’m up against. But in the knowing I have realized that I have an even greater battle to face than the weight.
It’s a battle of the mind.
The hardest hurdle I face is my own opinion of myself. It colors everything I do. I question how someone like me can lead a ministry when I imagine others criticizing my obvious lack of self-control, laziness, and gluttony. I think of others passing by Forgetting the Fairy Tale as being irrelevant…the author obviously isn’t married because of weight issues so why should I listen to what she has to say?
I think often of the apostle Paul and his thorn in the flesh. He begged God for a reprieve to no avail. But in his weakness, God’s strength was put on display. Maybe my thorn in the flesh is just that…my ample flesh. I might never be the thin girl I hope to become. But maybe, just maybe, God wants to use me anyway. Maybe my willingness to teach and lead others regardless of how they receive me is a way to glorify God in my weakness. Maybe God can use my honest struggle to help someone else that feels they have no hope? Maybe God can take the five loaves and two fishes that is my body and and my desire to serve Him and use them to do the impossible?
And maybe He can use that thing that you hate about yourself to do the same.
My alarm is blaring and I begin the day annoyed. The noise is offensive and so is the command to get out of bed. The rebel inside me rises and the knowledge of what is right fights with that primal defiance that absolutely does not care and does not want to oblige. I’m not a morning person, but it’s not just that. It’s work. It’s responsibility. It’s what Scripture refers to as “dying to self.” (Ephesians 4:22-24)
In basic terms, I’m selfish and I don’t want to spend eight hours of my day answering phone call after mind numbing phone call. I don’t want to be trapped at a desk in a noisy, clamoring room with a shortage of windows. I want to do life on my own terms. I want to give my time to things that inspire me, things I am passionate about. I want to fight injustice, change lives, and inspire others.
Changing the world is a matter of choice.
It’s so easy to look at my daily frustrations and blame others for my attitude and my lack of personal progress. But in reality, my attitudes and actions are CHOICES that I am making. I could CHOOSE to get up to work on personal projects before work, but I CHOOSE to surf Facebook instead of going to bed early. I could CHOOSE to be thankful for the job that allows me to do other things between assisting customers, but so often I CHOOSE to complain instead.
The thing about changing the world is that it doesn’t happen in one creative stroke of genius. It happens slowly, over years of faithful trying—some successes, some failures, but always trying, always pushing, always improving.
Wishing isn’t working.
Wishing I was more prompt, more thin, more productive, more influential doesn’t change me and certainly doesn’t change the world. Doing the hard work day after day, that changes things.
Music teachers know that students improve through muscle memory. “Practice makes perfect” they say, or more accurately, “practice makes permanent.” There are no shortcuts to get better at playing Mozart. You have to work at it everyday-and correctly. Playing the same measure incorrectly over and over becomes memorized in time as well.
The same is true in life.
If I practice complaining, I reap a negative outlook. If I practice tv surfing every night, then soon it seems impossible to do anything else. If I practice hitting the snooze every morning, in time it becomes habit.
Mindlessly living via muscle memory is easy. “It’s just the way I am.” It takes zero responsibility. But it doesn’t change the world.
Changing the world takes intentionality.
Changing the world requires “practicing” good habits and positive outlooks. Changing the world means changing myself first and then applying that work ethic and determination to projects and passions that influence others.