Weight(y) Matters

This has been spinning around in my head for some time. Over the last 8 years I have lost a total of 43kg. When I started weight watchers for the first time I weighed 104kg and was a size 18-20. This morning I weighed 61kg and I'm a size 10.

People keep asking me how I did it. Well, as the above states, it took a fair amount of time. But not as long as it looks, because it's not like I was trying to lose weight for all those years! I started weight watchers in (I think) 2004. I have no idea what prompted it - maybe watching Dad struggle with his weight I realised I didn't want that for myself. Mainly I suspect it's because I was sick of struggling to find clothes that fit - I must admit that I am quite vain. It is really hard being 22 and unable to wear any of the clothes that you would like to because they don't exist in your size. But that's a whole 'nother story (rant). That first time on WW I lost 20kg over about 9 months, got down to 84kg and a size 14, and was very happy with that.

When I was pregnant with Abby I went a little overboard on the eating (comfort eating mainly, I do bad pregnant lady) and put on 15kg. When she was 10 weeks old I went back to good old WW and got down to 74kg. Still a size 14 though, which drove me bonkers. But hey, I was fit and healthy and could buy clothes from 'standard' stores, so I was happy.

With William, I was soooo sick and tired all the time I just couldn't face the thought of eating. So I only put on 8 kg the entire pregnancy, 6 of which I lost within weeks of him being born. But now I was determined to get down to my 'healthy' weight, which for me is (apparently) between 51-64kg. I know, I KNOW that the whole BMI thing is a load of crap, that it is meant to be used as a measure of population change not as a perscriptive guide to an individual's weight, but I'm a goal orientated person and I needed a number. So I chose one.

How did I do it? Good question. I think what it comes down to is that I wanted to lose weight more than I wanted to eat more than I needed to. Seriously, that's all it was in the end. I could exercise, meditate and affirm myself to my hearts content but as long as I was eating more than I needed to my weight was not going to change. I wanted to lose weight for me - not because society told me I 'should', not because my best friend or work colleague or random celebrity was, but because I felt that it was time. Time for me to make some positive changes to my life. And I had to want it badly enough to override all the other parts of me that would say 'oh come on, just one slice won't hurt' or 'I'll go for a walk tomorrow and that will make up for it' or 'but I really really want it and denying youself never works anyway'.

William is now 10.5 months old and I am a size 10 for the first time in my life. I've maintained this weight for 2 months so far and it looks like I'll stay this way, The wierd thing though is that despite my size and weight, I'm still the same person I was when I was 22, just 8 years older.

You see, to me, a size 10 was like the holy grail of weight loss. Somehow, when I reached it I would become taller, blonder, smoother, more tanned... because size 10 is model material. People who were small didn't have any body problems - I'm not talking about those sad souls who struggle with eating disorders but those who are naturally (or unnaturally) built small enough to fit into this magic size. I would look at all the beautiful clothes in the magazines, and the even more beautiful people wearing them, and imagine that I would be just like them if I could only shift that last 20/10/5kg.

Of course, I didn't realise all this was going through my head until I reached my current size and was a little bemused to discover that I'm still me. I have horrible skin. I have brown hair and I'm so pale I practically grow in the dark. And you know what? I still have a wobbly, saggy tum. I still have flaps of flesh under my arms. And my butt still looks like an undercooked cake covered in lumpy frosting.

And I still love my body.

I can do high kicks and break boards. I can lift my children and squash them till they're breathless. I can run quite a distance (in an appropriate bra) and I can kick the arse of any foolish teenager who thinks I'm an easy target because I'm short and (now) slight. (You see this black belt? You SEE this black belt? You wanna take me on? HUH?).

Am I healthier, fitter, stronger now than I was as a size 14? I don't know. I will always get sick a lot, that's just the way my body works. But I sure eat a hell of a lot better than I used to, and if I have eaten half a roll of uncooked peanut paste/choc chip biccies today I'll work it off tomorrow. I no longer beat myself up about the occasional slice of pizza or piece of cake, because it really is occasional. And if I know I want to comfort eat I'll reach for the apricots or the nuts instead of the chips or chocolate.

I'm more flexible now. I can kick almost over my shoulder, which is a new and somewhat frightening experience. I can run further, although I'm not sure how much of that is general fitness and how much is because my poor breasts are finally starting to get a little smaller.

I guess the most important thing is though, am I happier?

Am I?

You know what, I think I am. Because I am finally treating my body the way it deserves to be treated. Because I know my kids will grow up seeing a mother who is comfortable an secure in her body and who eats well, not to lose weight but as a natural response to hunger.

And I can fit in to size 10 skinny jeans. So you'll have to excuse me while my size ten butt walks over to the oven. There's some biccies a-bakin'.

Sermon for Pentacost

We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23 and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. 26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. 27 And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

Today we are given three different pictures of the Holy Spirit. It blows through the house like a violent wind and dances on heads like tongues of fire, empowering people to speak in other languages so that all might hear what God has done in Jesus Christ (Acts).  It stands beside us as the Advocate who speaks from God in order to guide us into the truth (John). 

And when all those words are inadequate, when all that speaking cannot express what is deepest within us, the Spirit intercedes on our behalf with wordless, inexpressible groans (Romans).  It was true in the time of Paul and the Gospel writers, and it remains true today: the Spirit is as close as wind and words and no words.  The Spirit in this passage hovers over two equally true realities.  On the one hand, our adoption papers have already been served; we have a place in the family of God.  Together with the whole of creation, already we are caught up in God as heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.  Already we have tasted the fruits of the Spirit, the life-giving, life-altering reality of living within God's embrace. 

What does this look like to you? Where in your life have you seen the changes that living in the sure knowledge of the eternal love and of Christ brings? This is not a rhetorical question. It is one that I would really like you to think about, and maybe to share if you feel comfortable. I'll go first.

In 2010 I was diagnosed with bowel cancer. It was a scary time – I was only 28, I had a 3 year old daughter and obviously I was terrified! It made me confront my own mortality in the most real way for the first time. I had always said, both to myself and to others, that in my personal prayer life I did not pray for God to influence external events but internal realities. So, to use a rather trivial example, I would not ask God to help me pass my exams but to give me the mindset to study and the focus to retain. Suddenly, I was confronted with a situation that was not at all trivial. There were two weeks between finding out I had a tumour and the surgery that would both remove it and tell us how serious this was going to be. Those were the scariest two weeks of our lives.

And I prayed. I prayed a lot. But to my surprise, when confronted with the possible end of my life, with leaving my daughter and husband and family, I didn't pray for God to take the tumour away, or to minimise it's effects on me. In my world, God doesn't work like that. I prayer for strength, for courage, for serenity, for wisdom... for myself, my family and the wonderful team of doctors who were responsible for my wellbeing.

And God answered my prayers.

We made it through that terrible time, we were incredibly lucky that the skilled surgeon was able to remove the tumour before it spread, and I am now living cancer free, hopefully for the rest of my life! But it was with the God's grace shown in and through me in the Holy Spirit that made our cancer journey, and I say our because as I'm sure you know it is never just one person affected by such an illness, what it was. Through all the pain and fear it became a life giving, life affirming experience, not just for me but for the people around me. If I hadn't had God to carry me through, if I hadn't felt the Spirit at work in and around me, this would have been a much harder time that it turned out to be. I thank God daily still, not just for my healing but for the way the Spirit filled me and the people around me to ensure I was surrounded by divine love shown through human hands.

Would I do it again? Well, yes... and no. I can put a positive spin on it as much as I like, but although the surgery itself went well, the recovery was long and sometimes brutal. It took well over a year before I really felt back to normal. There were times when I did feel deserted. There were times when I couldn't find the words to talk to God – me, for whom words are such an integral part of my being! And there still are. Times when something so unbelievably hard happens, when we can't find the words to call on God. Times when creation itself must be groaning in immeasurable pain at what is happening to her, when the words to call God just aren't there.

And it is then, in those very times when we feel most alone, that the Spirit is at hand. When we are mired in the darkest of despair, when humanity seems to be failing ourselves and the world around us – that is when the Spirit intercedes on our behalf.

Because standing in the middle of this passage is hope. Hope that this dark time will end, that no matter how wrong it seems there is some right that will come of it, hope that we are all God's children, in our despair as well as in our joy. And when we can't find this hope, when all really is lost, when we are forced to contemplate a life or even a death that is so different from what we had planned, the Spirit hopes on our behalf, the church endures with us, the whole creation groans in solidarity.  We are not alone.

Knowing that God is present in the midst of our greatest need is good news that enables us to endure.  What does that look like where you are?  For me it came in the reassurance that should something happen to me, my children are surrounded by people who will love them and support them. That the God I love will never separate me from them for as long as they need me – if not in body then in spirit. Thinking of the floods, I can see so many ways the Spirit has flowed through others in order to help others endure. Sometimes it is with food, money, shelter, hope... sometimes with a presence who will just listen and be. Sometimes the Spirit is at work through me in a way that I don't even recognise at the time, in a way that I may never know – we touch people's lives every day through actions or words that are small and meaningless to us but Christ like to others.

When we have our morning tea together today, when we bond through fellowship and Spirit, why don't we try and share a way the Spirit has helped us through our labours. Let's own it. Let's share it. And in the words of Paul, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit”.

Amen.