Life and a Kidney Bean

Avoid dark colors to disguise your body's shape. All people who know that you gave birth understand your extra weight and lack of muscles' tone, but especially because there is nothing to hide. You have your baby in your arms and this fact is enough to celebrate dressing in bright colors that cheers up your spirit, increasing your well-being.

Ha! I laughed at this when I saw it. Haven't been doing too much laughing the last few days. I feel...low, or maybe melancholy would be the right word. Bright colors don't do much to cheer me up because there doesn't seem to be any bright clothing that fit my big post partum body. I know I need to lose weight and I've known it for a while now. My mom never has any problem jumping on the subject of "my health" and I know it's because she cares about my well-being. But sometimes it just makes me feel beaten up by an overwhelming and unconquerable problem. Yesterday I saw myself in a mirror at the store and saw something truly hideous. I can't believe that I have become that girl.

I've never had super confidant self esteem. I remember thinking I was fat in highschool. Most of my girlfriends wore size 4s and shopped in the junior section whereas I was an 8 and my curves warranted shopping in "Misses". Oh to be an 8 again! It will mostly likely never happen.

So on Resurrection Sunday, where are my thoughts? On the cross, where my savior died? On the tomb that he abandoned when he conquered death? No, my mind is fighting every distraction imaginable. Usually it's only Luke's antics keeping me from giving the message my undivided attention. But today I was noticing the girls in front of me...their hair, their clothes, their skinny legs that could pull off all the cute short dresses designed for the perfect Arizona Springtime.

"It is all vanity!" my common sense screams at me. The truth has been ingrained in my heart so that I might not sin against my Father. I don't wish to be ignorant of His truth but I do wish to end this neverending battle between my favorite passage in 1 Peter and my stupid self-pity. I know better! I just know better than to wallow in defeat! Am I not a daughter of the Most High God? Did He not choose me to receive His inheritance? Did He not die for my sinful self so I would never be seperated from Him? YES! YES! and YES!

And yet, my heart still hurts. I feel unlovable and unwanted. Michael certainly is not a source of this pain. He never fails to love me or show me that he does desire me, "the wife of his youth." So it must be me. It must be this idol that beats me down as I lift it up.

It helps to write this out. It helps to use "pen and paper" to sort out my thoughts. This has been a jumble of emotion stirring in my heart, yearning to be let loose. Here it has been released, without any pain to anyone but myself as I realize my own depravity and shallowness. I am relieved that my Savior rose from the grave. He has redeemed even me and I want so desperately to feel Him hold me in His arms and tell me that I'm loved and worth the pain. I know He tells me He loves me in every blessing I see in life. My beautiful son. My husband who tenderly cares for me. My parents who are now my best friends after years of bitterness and anger. The list goes on. I am blessed and I am of value.

Sorry for the ranting for whoever it is that might read this. I needed to get to this conclusion. If you stuck with me through the worst of the above,... thanks.