The Acceptable Sin

Have you ever seen the show Intervention? My mom and I LOVE it and watch it all the time. It is exactly what it sounds like; a camera crew follows an addict around for a few days, you see them getting black out drunk or shooting up heroin and then they are surprised with an intervention from their family and go to rehab. The addictions on the show are about 60% drugs, 35% alcohol, and 5% bulemia/anorexia. 

Not once have I seen someone on there who is morbidly obese and addicted to food.

Because most don't see that as an addiction. Most don't see this as a sin.

I was that food addict, like I have talked about before. It literally controlled me. It controlled my mood, my emotions, my schedule, everything. I ballooned to 299lbs because of it and my BMI was in in the morbidly obese category. I was killing my self with food. I was dying by my own hand.

While it may not be as grotesque to some as shooting up a vein, it is so very similar. I am putting something in my body that is killing it, I have given myself to it and lost all self-control. I belonged to something other than myself and other than the Lord. 

But we sit in our church pews and our potlucks overeating, slowly killing ourselves, overweight, and point fingers at the drunks. Because food is the "acceptable sin". Its not drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex.... Its just food. 

Proverbs 25:28 says, "A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls." 

2 Timothy 1:7 reads, "For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control."

Self-Control is VITAL to life. It is not only a suggestion of God, but something that He gives us the power to do. I had no self-control. Galatians says it is a fruit of the Spirit, and I didn't have it. 

1 Corinthians 6:12 is the one that really hit me, "You say, 'I am allowed to do anything'—but not everything is good for you. And even though 'I am allowed to do anything,' I must not become a slave to anything."

Food is good, its delicious, its necessary for life, but to be controlled by it, to allow it to kill us slowly and live in obesity accepting the addiction is wrong, and it is sinful. It can no longer be tolerated. 

According to Gallup, " The percentage of U.S. adults who are obese continued to trend upward in 2014, reaching 27.7%. This is up more than two percentage points since 2008 and is the highest obesity rate Gallup and Healthways have measured in seven years of tracking it. More Americans who were previously overweight have now moved into the obese category". 

I can say that I am no longer a food addict. I am learning more and more self-control and it no longer controls me. But I am sad for those who live addicted, those who judge and do not see their own faults. I hope that people stop accepting sin, any sin, even this sin.

My Life Ended at 20

Some say my life actually ended when I was 20.
How you ask, since I turn 25 next week?

I got married.

I have so many people who say to me "How did you do that so young?" or, more commonly "Why? Why not wait?". My personal favorite is, "You had so much life to live... Why did you do that so young?"

Here's the thing, if my life ended when I got married, I am not doing it right.

My life did not end when I got married. In fact, it really kind of began. Why did I get married so young? Because I wanted to continue to live life, just do it with my best friend by my side. How is that bad? When I committed myself to Daimian on November 5, 2010, I committed to go on adventures, to dream big, to not get comfortable and complacent, and to live life excited and ready to go. We have traveled the world together, traveled our state together, had all kinds of fun and different dates, and given ourselves to each other in ways that no other relationship allows.

Not only that, but more importantly, my relationship with God is better. Marriage has made me more holy, more focused on Jesus, less on myself., Not only did my life continue - not die - and even got ramped up, but my relationship with Christ was taken to a brand new level that wouldn't have happened otherwise.

My husband pushes me to be better, he challenges me to dream outside of the norm, he encourages me to go after all my crazy desires, and he goes along with me. I promise you, I am not missing out on anything by getting married young, and I would do it ALL over again if given the chance.

Carving Out the Healthy

I was an athlete once. 
I played varsity basketball at a large high school for good coaches on good teams all four years of high school. I did the same as a thrower on the track & field team. 
I was fit, I could run, I played A LOT of basketball. 
I was an athlete once.

Then I got fat. There is an athlete in there somewhere, but right now, she is all kinds of covered up by bad choices, fat rolls, and too many years of losing I truly was.

A friend sent me this picture:

It hit me. Hard. This is exactly what my weight loss journey has felt like. This describes it 100% in picture form. This fat girl, this addiction to food, these bad decisions, that is not me. The athlete, the healthy person, the person who cares for herself, that is who I am, deep down. 

Have you ever seen Michelangelo's statue of David? Its amazing. He was asked one time how he was able to create such a beautiful piece out of a ugly, plain slab of marble. He answered, "David was inside the stone—I just needed to chip away all the pieces that weren't David." 

Yes! Bam! That is whats happening! That is what I am doing! Brittany is inside... Right now, I am just chipping away all the pieces that aren't Brittany. This fat girl, this isn't me. I am confident, I am an athlete, I am a doer, I am active, I am strong. This fat girl is none of those things. And now, I have to chip away all the pieces that aren't me. And that is exactly what I am doing. 

Thirty Pounds

Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices.

Alfred A. Montapert

I have lost 30 pounds.
That's a lot of pounds.
At least, that is what I keep telling myself.
See, my goal is 110 pounds. So 30 compared to 110 is not a lot.
But I can't let myself get there.
One pound at a time.

Thirty pounds is a lot. I have worked hard. My whole lifestyle has changed. The way I eat, my relationship with food, how I think about it, how much I eat it, how often I consume it, EVERYTHING about it has completely changed. My addiction to it as something I could control and something I needed is gone. I see exercise and working out as something not to dread or hate, but rather to enhance myself, to help myself, and I have found things I enjoy doing to work out such as disc golf, boxing, swimming, walking, and lifting weights. And, of course my most favorite, playing basketball, the game I love.

But, its slow going. I have been doing this since the end of October, so almost 5 months, and I have only lost 30lbs. That's embarrassing to type actually, because in my own estimation, with the amount of work this has taken and the amount of time I spend thinking about it, talking about it, working on it, etc., it should be more. The goals I had set for myself haven't happened as quickly as I was hoping for, as I was striving for.

But what is most frustrating to me about this whole journey is that I am still suffering the consequences of the choices I made long ago to become overweight. The decisions I made that led to this with all the laziness and the not caring and the stubbornness and the denial and the pizza and cheese sticks and Mt. Dew.... All of that which is now either gone or changed or enjoyed in moderation, well it doesn't fully matter just yet. There is progress, but I am still overweight. I still am not at a place where I want to try for babies, I am still at a place where a lot of my clothes don't fit, I am still at a place where I look in the mirror and really dislike what I see. My knees hurt, my back hurts, I still get winded doing stupid stuff... But why? I have worked SO. FREAKING. HARD. I am doing SO. FREAKING. MUCH. But the consequences... I still get to pay for those..

I know, I know... Someday I won't have to anymore. Someday, I will look back and this will all be worth it and it will be a distant memory and all these struggles will seem small compared to the triumph, but at this moment, I am tired of the consequences because I am working darn hard. Why did the old me ignore all the people who loved me gently telling me this was a bad path? Why did the old me decide that denial was better than punching it in the face? Why did the old Brittany rely so heavily on stupid food? Cause the me now gets to deal with it, and I will for a long time.

My apologies this isn't a whole lot more encouraging and happy. This is honesty.

Our Story: Part 3

{This post is a continuation of  a series about my husband's and my story. Read part one here and part two here}

Its been a while since part two of mine and Daimian's story, but school started, and that is ALL I do. No joke. 

Anyways, we have been to Mexico, and to college, and now we finally get to the juicy stuff. 

After a short relationship, and my finally letting go of my past relationship, Daimian and began to bond just as friends. For real, there was nothing romantic at all and I loved it... We both did. We were both going through a new chapter in our lives in several ways and previous friendships were changing, I was trying to decide what I wanted out of life, and Daimian stepped in as a confidant, a listening ear, a wise voice, and a funny (not to mention good-looking) guy that helped me along. 

Just Amigos (Nice hair, D)

On Valentines Day in 2010, my group of friends were all single, including myself and Daimian, so we decided to hang out at my place. I bought a picture frame that I thought he would like, printed the picture above, and gave it to him along with a card telling him how much I appreciated his friendship and him. He bought my a flower and a card, but still there was no romance... At least I thought.

A couple weeks later, we sat in the gym at our school for almost two hours helping each other let go of all the baggage and garbage and stupid stuff we couldn't before. It all seemed so darn traumatic then, but looking back now, it just wasn't such a big deal. Nonetheless, I went home that night even more thankful for Daimian and our friendship. But then I got to thinking about Valentines Day and how easy it was to talk to him and tell him things I had never disclosed to anyone else, and I wondered if I had been falling in love with him and didn't even know it. So I wrote to him on Facebook (thank God for social media being a shield for my scared buns. I basically told him that if he ever started to have feelings for me, I wanted him to be honest because I didn't want anything to ruin our friendship. He replied telling me that he did in fact have feelings for me, didn't know how to tell me, but didn't want things to be weird. 

The next day, he came over, we stayed up all night talking about LITERALLY everything, I made him pancakes, he went to work at 7:00am the next day on no sleep, drove back to Keizer from Albany after, and asked me to be his girlfriend. This was our first picture together:

Aren't we adorable?

Every single day since March 5, 2010, we have seen each other. I remember one time he even drove 45 minutes down I-5 after work for 30 minutes of hanging out before I had to go to my job at Shari's. THIRTY MINUTES, people. There hasn't been a day go by that I haven't seen him.

D's 20th birthday a few weeks after we started dating

The last part, part four comes next. Hopefully sooner than I got around to writing part three. :)

Our Story: Part 2

{This post is a continuation of  a series about my husband's and my story. Read part one here}

Where were we.... Oh, yes, Tijuana, Mexico.

Back to the States we came. At that time, we were both going into our junior year of high school and my biggest concerns were basketball, track & field, my girlfriends, and a boy who wasn't named Daimian.

While in Mexico, I racked up a $500 phone bill calling that boy every single day. When I got back from Mexico, he bought me a promise ring and I just knew that I would be his wife one day. I was sixteen and had fallen in love for the first time. We went to proms together, had dates at Red Robin, drove around in his Mustang, and got our first tattoos together (luckily, not of each other, just at the same time).

But, as I know and you know now, it wasn't meant to be. It was a rough ending... Between the cheating, the breaking up and getting back together a few times, having to lose each other's families, and experiencing my first true heartbreak, I was devastated. I look back now and I understand just how much I am grateful for both of us that the Lord brought us out of a relationship that wasn't centered on Him, wasn't healthy, and we both have found spouses that we were supposed to be with. But it taught me a lot. And I am grateful.

I graduated high school and went through an incredibly rebellious stage of life. I knew that I was supposed to be at a Bible College nearby, but I didn't want to. I chose drinking and community college instead. I tried to drown out my heartbreak and avoid what God wanted from me. I finally hit rock bottom and decided to stop running, so in 2009, I decided to enroll at Salem Bible College.

I remember walking in the door the first day of classes. I walked into chapel and there were a whole lot of faces I didn't recognize. I was annoyed that I had "given in" and ended up at this tiny school pursuing a degree in Christian Leadership. I looked around for something to help me stop freaking out, and there was Daimian. I remembered him from our trip to Mexico three years before. I had seen him around at our state wide youth convention and at other youth events. He was well-known around the district of churches because while I was worried about skipping class, this guy was leading a Bible study at his school, handing out Bibles, etc.

Little Daimian in 2009

We became friends quickly. I was amazed at how awesome the people were at this school. We all had crazy stories - some crazier than others - but we all bonded over a tests, fast food, and a passion for Jesus. Our group was close, and Daimian - who I had first met three years ago in a completely different situation of life - was a part of that group and I am so grateful he was. 

Study Group - 2009

Before we had any idea we would end up as husband and wife

Our Story: Part One

With my anniversary a couple weeks behind us, I started thinking, I am not sure if people have heard out story in full before. Granted, it is not something out of Hollywood or anything, but I thought it would be fun for Daimian and I, if nothing else, to document our little love story and remember how we got to this time.

Our story starts a long time ago in 2006. It was the summer in between my sophomore and junior year of high school. I had been out of the country one time to Cambodia on a missions trip and had caught the travel bug there. So when the opportunity came for me to travel once again and do service work in a different country, I took it. This time we would be driving to Tijuana, Mexico. I spoke a tiny bit of Spanish and LOVED Mexican food, so I was ready.

A much skinnier version of me with Mo and Berry

My two best friends, Alex (Berry) and Justine (Mo), were joining me on the trip along with my sister, my parents, and a couple other friends in our youth group. We spent time fundraising, praying, and preparing for what we hoped to be life-changing. The day finally arrived, we loaded in the church van and drove to Madras where we would meet up with the rest of the students from our state who we would be traveling with. The trip isn't something I remember a lot other than sitting in the very back, not a lot of air conditioning, and gazing out the window as the scenery made an extreme change from southern California, the border crossing, to the slums of Mexico.

As we drove in Rancho De Sus Ninos, the orphanage we would be staying and doing most of our work with, another group was already there, also from Oregon. They had driven in from Pendleton, I place I had heard of but never been in the eastern part of my home state. I don't remember a lot about the first parts of the trip other than we mixed A LOT of concrete for building projects and loved on a lot of orphans, all while enjoying the best, most authentic Mexican food I had ever had.

It wasn't the biggest group in the world, big enough to get things done, but small enough to really be close. I started to get to know the guys from Pendleton, and Mo even found a summer fling with a boy from their church. That was when I first met Daimian. He looks a lot like he does now, but with a lot less facial hair. I remember him, I remember his name and what he looked like, though he would remember only my dad, Berry, and Mo, but that story is for a different time.

Baby Daimian

So little facial hair....