There are 1,257 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader approximately 4.5 minutes to read. You might be able to consider this something of a part 2 to “Unwanted” (and other lies I believe).
I have had a serious case of writers’ block for about two months now. Generally, when this happens, it’s because there is something I need to write that I’m not writing. It is called writers’ block for a reason—there is literally an obstacle, a blockage, in the outward flow of words. A few nights ago, I was confronted with my obstacle.
I do not want to write this. But I also know I will not be able to continue if I don’t. This blog feels scattered to me—I am not sorry. I am still scattered.
It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but before I begin, I want to invite you to shut up. Read. Sit with me in this. I don’t want your platitudes or condolences or comforts, no matter now well-meaning they may be. Sit with me—in silence—observe how your own soul identifies with mine—receive this. Trust that the Holy Spirit is a sufficient comforter for me—and for you. Continue reading
There are about 1,660 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader about five and a half minutes to read.
Fat is not the worst thing you can be.
It really, really is not.
And if you really stop to evaluate your deepest darkest fear, I think you’ll agree with me. When you delve deep into the fears you harbor that have never escaped your lips—I doubt if “fat” will be on that list.
No, fat is just the thing you openly fear—and therefore mock. Fat is just the thing you make out to be the worst thing to the people around you. Maybe it’s something you think you are. Or maybe it’s something you’re trying fervently to avoid—or perhaps you try to look like you’re trying to avoid it.
“Oh my gosh I’m so fat.” she says, as she eats something unhealthy.
“I need to lose fifteen pounds.” she says, as she denies a treat.
“Gotta lose the beer belly.” he laughs at a party.
“OMG have you seen so-and-so? She’s put on so much weight. It’s unhealthy.” she gossips.
It’s never overtly stated as a fear, but when so many people express their need to avoid it, it seems to amount to that. Those are a few of the many ways I’ve heard this fear of fatness expressed—in my presence. In the presence of your actually obese loved one. Or maybe in the presence of an overweight stranger—who is also loved. Continue reading
There are 1,585 words beyond this. It will take the average adult reader approximately six minutes to read.
I do not believe being overweight is sinful. As an overweight female Christian, however, I can tell you three specific things about my own personal obesity:
- It was and is, in part, caused by medical issues.
- It was and is, in part, caused by others’ sin.
- It was and is, in part, caused by my own sin.
I do not believe that the excess weight on my body is actually sinful. However, I do acknowledge the role sin—and this fallen fucking world—has had on my body.
This blog will take the average adult reader approximately four minutes to read.
A friend recently pointed out to me that, in all aspects of life, I am a data collector. I know I do this consciously as part of my job—and I know I do it as a bit of a hobby. I never realized until very recently that I do it non-stop in my head in my personal life. It is an adequate way to describe how I process much of the world around me, though.
I collect data by observing behaviors (intentional and otherwise), language, and my environment—I sort it into data sets—and then I draw conclusions. I can trace this behavior back to when I was about five years old—I’m sure people that knew me as a wee tot can trace it back even farther. It is how I process information. All of life, for me, is data collection and analysis.