Potpourri – Page 5 – The Welcome Home

THM or A Plan On The Shelf

THMbookshelf October 17, 2013 I received my book… and I wrote about the THM journey here with additional entries following. I wasn’t so much seeking to be a trim healthy mama as much as I was determined to be a healthy mama who happened to figure out how to be and remain disciplined and trim.

I had such determination and such confidence. And success, too.
Life happened. And failure.

This morning I’m cleaning up from a few different events in the last several days and all I see around me are large bowls, serving platters, large carafes, stacks of other dishes, paper products… all the aftermath of food. Lots of food. My scale showed me that, too.

In the early days, I was trying to figure out how THM was going to fit in with my life. This bookshelf in my kitchen sort of represents my life. But, I’m telling you, it took no time to figure out that that was the wrong question – the wrong premise on which to embark on the THM journey. I couldn’t even reword that premise to be: how can my lifestyle fit into THM? Though, I did learn to adjust right away, feeble as it was, it wasn’t at all bcz the THM plan fit into anything and not even bcz I fit into the THM plan. It was simple determination to deny self and walk on in faith that I could be free from the grip of undisciplined consumption and THM plan was the path to that freedom.

Somewhere along the way, small compromises deterred me from wholeheartedly walking on that freedom path. Small and then absent minded great compromises dull the sharp resolve of discipline. Somewhere along the way I lost sight of the plan, of my resolve to be self-controlled and resolute regarding food (read: sugar). And nothing cements repeated failure more than repeated lack of determination. I typed and then removed a sentence here — it went something like “…lack of a plan.” But I had a plan. I had a very good plan. And when I stuck to the plan, it worked very, very well. It’s a good plan. But a plan on the shelf is not the same as a plan in the mind, a plan in the hand, and a plan in the will and a plan in action. A plan is worthless when not accompanied by resolute determination to carry it out.

Excuses? Loads. Loads of ’em. Reasons? Many. Many valid reasons if reason excuses failure. And then there’s the worst of all: Compromise. I look at where I am today compared with where I was seven months ago and I reason that where I am is surely not where I was seventeen months ago. I reason, I’ve only gained 5 or 6 pounds in the last seven months… that’s not too bad, really. I mean, considering, I already lost 35 pounds, so only gaining 5 or 6 pounds is not that bad. Not that bad is one the greatest enemies I have. Compromise is an enemy when it’s not used very carefully and in the right situations. Rarely is that the case.

Is the 5 or 6 pound gain the problem or the failure? No. Taking my eyes off the plan (could be any plan by the way — not stuck to the THM-only-no-other-will-do notion) is what’s disconcerting to me. Failing to be, and remain, determined is what I mean.

I want to be, to become, and to remain: Determined. I don’t want my plans to be on the shelf…

The irony of this thought was not lost on me this morning as I was reading my Bible — reflecting on the content and cross references. I thought, why do I ever get away from doing this? Why is this hunger for the Word so diminished sometimes? So prone to wander… Why are these precious insights so dimmed on one day and not another. Determination.

So many areas of our lives are so inextricably linked. Isn’t the Lord so merciful to let us see these connections, fall and get up, by His grace, taking His hand? Isn’t it gracious of Him to bring to remembrance different parables to keep our eyes on Truth?

What if You knew You were Dying?

AChristianHomeLogo10 Have you ever asked yourself what you’d do if you knew you were dying? Or, how would you live differently if you knew this year was your last year to live?
I was talking with my friend on the phone this morning and as I was recounting different ongoing family situations, I related that even though we had a real “wake-up call” last summer, we haven’t changed things we do or don’t do all that much. As I hung up the phone, it occurred to me that I must not take, or respond to, wake up calls all that seriously. I was disappointed with the reality of my inaction.

A few times a week I receive blog entries written by or about a woman who is graciously dying. I know, right?!? Graciously dying. She knows she’s dying — known it for quite awhile — wrote and published a book that she thought perhaps she’d never see in print, and yet, it has been circulating for a year or more, now. She’s battled cancer and, by her own admission, has sought to live well to the end. This is a relatively new way of describing living: living well. loving well. dying well. caring well for others. being loved well. You get the picture: well. Doing things well. I’m often put off by new lingo–but it reaches me eventually and sometimes even worms its way into my speech. Kinda like the, I know, right?!?! I frequently exclaim. Or, the use of the word, totally. I totally use that word.

Well, back to the wake up call. You know, when my husband had a heart attack this past summer – or three attacks, to be more realistic — it was hard to fathom the grave nature of what had happened. And I’m not sure if it’s his personality, his activity level or my own ignorance, but it’s like, Okay, so that happened, and we’ve moved on. Kinda like we moved on in 2007 when he had his first heart attack. But when I read about another woman dealing with a similar scenario, I’m moved with compassion and want to offer her comfort and encouragement; I pray for her and all that’s happening to her and what she’ll face in the midst of the trial: her wake up call. But mine? I don’t know why it doesn’t yet strike me the same way.

Well, as I talked with my friend, I realized I haven’t dared to just look at things for what they are and realize I need to take them more seriously. I’m not meaning I need to fall apart, cry it out or whatever, I mean that I need to recognize that real life’s happening and it is going to end. We are all, in fact, dying. At one rate or another, we’re all facing death. I wonder how quickly I’d make changes were I to be in Kara’s place – Kara of The Hardest Peace, Kara of Mundane Faithfulness – that Kara.

I keep reading Kara… and every day I learn something new about life, the Lord, peace and love. And as I work through my prayer/priority/goal-setting/evaluation Journal, This Beautiful Life, I learn more about what He has for me and what I ought to/might do about it all. I’ve decided to add to my thoughts as I’m writing in each section, the thought: would I value this more (or less) if I knew I was dying?

Because, I really am. I just have no idea when… and I want to live today in light of that fact.

songs for seasons

teacuppamela Just recently I was sharing with my church family the many times the Lord has given me a song for a season — songs playing in the theater of my mind in different seasons. Through the years, here in this blog, I’ve shared clips of songs or meaningful words that have carried me through difficult days or trials. Interestingly (and thankfully!), the Lord has often used music to direct or focus my thoughts. When my mind would tend to wander in caves of worry or despair, songs have been my pillar of fire in darkness; songs have been my anchor in tumultuous seas; songs have borne the truth when the enemy has rushed in with floods of lies; songs have pointed to certain reality when shadows of doubt have been cast over my path.

The gift of music! What blessing the Lord has worked in music – many songs – psalms, hymns and spiritual songs! Five years ago, in the midst of the greatest sorrow I’ve ever known, the Lord used a few songs to carry me through each day and night during that season. In time to come I would experience and see very clearly the truth I’d been singing for months: “Anything that’s shattered, when laid before the Lord, will not be unredeemed… ” (Unredeemed – Selah). I will be eternally grateful to What God did for me in that season and the things He’s continuing to work in me from the lessons those days brought me. I needed to be broken—I needed all the lessons the Lord worked in me through that time.

On the heels of that season came another pressing trial when our son Timothy was so very sick. God again used song to carry us: Great is Thy Faithfulness would ring in our ears over and over. The miracle God provided proved this true: How great! O, how great is the faithfulness of God! Morning by morning new mercies we did see! Later in that same year and into the next, I would face another trial… blindsided, really, and yet God had a great purpose in all that, too. On so many levels I needed what that trial taught me—teaches me still! Having sunk to another lowest of lows, another song would carry me through: (Springtime’s Coming – Hopper). For a few months, my husband set this song to play to wake me every morning. Occasionally, at random points in those days, he would remind me with a smile: Springtime’s coming, and the words and melody would again ring in my ears. On an early April morning, I would receive and open a package containing the biggest surprise we’ve ever received. Truly, right before my eyes, “God had the biggest surprise” just as the song I’d been singing proclaimed. It was more than a dream.

Fast-forward a few years: I shouldn’t have been surprised at how another song would become dear and instructive to me — actually a very unlikely song has been invaluable to me. Sort of like the Happy! song the Lord used to encourage me during my husband’s open heart surgery and recovery… that one occasionally had me dancing and clapping along like a room without a roof! Well, this time, the song that is encouraging me was playing at Christmastime (Count your Blessings – Ray Conniff singers) and I’ve needed the little nuggets of gold contained in the song. I’ve needed to be reminded to fall asleep counting blessings instead of sheep.

In a season of change, I’ve been drawn into worry and fretting and, occasionally at the end of the day, into counting sheep instead of blessings when sleep’s been elusive — I smile when the thoughts prompted by that song ring through: “…we’ll kneel and pray to be shown the way; and when we’re worried and we can’t sleep, count our blessings instead of sheep and we’ll fall asleep counting our blessings!”

Maybe the Lord uses song or music in your life to carry you, to instruct or encourage you as He has in mine. I sure hope so.

The recovery road

wesandmeinhospitalbeforesurgery All the information, booklets, visits from the different therapists and the remarks of different doctors in the days and hours prior to leaving the hospital following my husband’s open heart bypass surgery didn’t prepare me for the recovery road. Yes, I’d listened intently. Yes, I’d taken notes and appeared to comprehend all the information they were giving me — giving us.

I guess I was prepared for what they’d specifically instructed me to do when we returned home, but I wasn’t prepared for the other stuff — the other stuff that they didn’t tell me. And now, looking back, I see that there was “other stuff” they couldn’t tell me –– they couldn’t prepare me for what I’d experience any more than the obstetrician could prepare me for what I’d experience in labour and delivery and for the weeks following the birth of our first child. I marvel at the similarities.

Last July, we were sitting out on the deck of a local restaurant enjoying the airplanes, hotair balloons and the beautiful sunset. In ordering the bacon wrapped tenderloin, I obviously completely forgot that my. husband. had. just. had. open. heart. surgery. We’d walked there so that we could keep with the prescribed daily walking schedule — two to three walks per day, increasing the length of the walks each day. But, yes, I shot us both in the foot with that order.

Through the month of July when our first son was born 35 years ago, each day was filled with the activities of feeding, bathing, napping, dressing, strolls, and extended times of just gazing at him while he slept. I’d gently lay my head near my son’s face to hear his breathing or my hand on his back to feel the gentle rise and fall of each respiration. Each day seemed so long but the weeks seemed to fly by — such an uncanny parallel to the way this past July was spent.

Each day we’d wake up early, the sun streaming in our living room — my husband in his recliner, and I beside him on my temporary bed. The new electric recliner gave him so much freedom to get up or sit by himself, but the tone of the electronic lift was like an alarm clock — the operative word being: alarm. 😉 Though he never complained of my incessant, day or night, staring and asking, are you okay? I stared at him while he rested, stared at him while he ate, stared at him while he read. Each day seemed long — much like those early newborn days, a flurry of firsts, busy days just like the early days of the first baby, my days were filled with feeding, bathing, napping, dressing, strolls and staring at my… husband. Somehow the busyness of keeping each day’s chart filled in — assorted new meds, his temperature, blood pressure, walks, water, meals and doctor visits all served as distractions to what was really going on or what had really gone on.

I wasn’t prepared for the new tentative feel to life. I wasn’t prepared for the feeling that this was all very temporary — that at any time my husband would have another heart attack and we’d do all that all over again. I wasn’t prepared for what felt like the loss of the middle years — suddenly catapulted to the later years — the last years. I didn’t anticipate that there’s be potholes on the recovery road and surely didn’t anticipate their source. I wasn’t prepared for the comments and questions I’d receive and, therefore, didn’t have a ready response. Instead of hearing them as simple conversation, I heard them as attacks and didn’t have the wherewithal to give reasoned answers. I took my husband’s health personally and have felt ashamed that I contributed to it being what it is — that I could have/should have made better choices for the last thirty six years and, had I done so, he’d not be in the condition he is.

In saner, stronger, more rational moments I’ve been able to reason that, first, God is sovereign. That’s a sure plank on which to stand. He’s also Lord of my life, Lord of my husband’s life and has been our sustainer, provider, strength, and guide through all these years. I’ve been careful to be in the Word and in prayer daily and to recognize, ultimately, where the feeling of attack came/comes from. The devil knows my weaknesses and one of them is guilt or shame over things that happen around me — that when bad things happen, it must be my fault; when relationships are strained, it must be my fault; if/when my kids fail, reject me, reject the Lord, or whatever: it must be my fault. So also, when my husband’s health failed, surely it must be my fault and to excuse myself in any way would mean I’m not accepting the fact. It’s a vicious cycle — one I’m very familiar with — one that I must work diligently to accurately see for what it is.

It’s a decision I’m not always quick to react with though, and sometimes I’m in the middle of a pothole when I finally see I’ve fallen into the trap the devil’s set for me on the road. And in that place, I must resolve to yield to the Lord: I resolve to rest in His promises. I used to see as weakness what I now see as yieldedness. I used to see as a copout what I now see as trust. What I used to see as naïve I now see as faith. I often wish it hadn’t taken me so long to see these truths.

No one sets out to have heart disease — but I wish I’d grasped early on what it is to set out to NOT have heart disease. Obviously, I don’t even yet grasp this.

Looking ahead, looking back

teacuppamela I glanced down at the clock as I pulled into the parking garage. I rounded the corner and pulled into the same space I’d vacated just 7 hours earlier. Knowing the segment queue was on the :20’s, quickly clicking through the radio stations, I was hoping to hear one of the morning “phone taps” my girls had replayed for me a couple of times. These “phone taps” are pranks a radio host makes on unsuspecting individuals. Twisted, I know. But, given the situation I’d been experiencing, lots of my thoughts were scrambled in those days. Precious minutes were ticking by as I waited in my car at the hospital for the call to be aired. I waited, thinking the radio dj would play just one song – but no, he would play two. Since I don’t listen to the music on that station, I found the first song so annoying. But no matter, I was waiting for the phone tap. Then a song came on that I’d heard once before (yes, I’m really late to the game on pop songs) but I didn’t know the words — except: I’m happy… happy… happy.

It was the morning after Wes’s open heart surgery and stretched emotions and fatigue had begun to catch up with me—but as He did each day, the Lord gave me strength for every hour. I’m so grateful for what I learned of Him in those days.

O, and that phone tap was a dumb — as most are. But the happy song swirled through my mind that day—and because of the great goodness of the Lord, I truly did (and do) feel like a room without a roof!

And, as I look back over the past year and begin a new one, I want to clap along bcz I know what happiness means to me and I want to live my life dancing before the Lord “like a room without a roof” echoing: happy, happy, happy! The Lord is gracious!

Nevertheless

teacuppamela

Have you considered that the dailiness of God’s Word ever reveals the timeliness and the timelessness of His eternal Word? I mull this over as I reflect on the weeks gone by… the events of different days and the Co-incidents I was so privileged to see in God’s Word — His living Word — His timely, timeless, living Word as well as in experiences and events around me.

O that I could just more plainly see, expectantly grasp what I read each day — each day’s applications are profound but I so often miss them in the moment. But God. But God who is rich in mercy shows me His eternal Word — shows me His abiding Word — shows me that He never leaves nor forsakes me. But I’m so prone to wander… so prone to despair. But God; His eternal grace covers me.

Nevertheless I am continually with thee: thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.” —psalm 73.23-26

For all God’s done for me, why would I — how could I — possibly doubt Him now? But I do… in the moment, when I let my thoughts wander, I doubt — and then, by the grace and mercy of God, I’m reminded — His timely Word reminds me: I am continually with Him — He holds my hand, He gives me counsel, He will receive me into Glory. Where else would I go? Where else could I go? I have none in Heaven but Him and none on the earth to desire, trust, hope, seek: but Him.

I watched as my husband’s heart was failing — but God was the strength of his heart — and it was God’s mercy to clearly show him (and me!) that He is our portion forever.

I think we get too caught up in the temporal — the things that are happening to us, the things that happened behind us and the things we fear happening ahead of us. And in all these things, we have a tendency to forget God. We look down and around instead of up. We’re prone to forget His eternal presence and His eternal purposes for us. Caught up in the moments, distracted by all the pretty lures or painful pressures in life, we stop acknowledging the eternal Hand that hold us and often forgetting that if His eye is on the sparrow, how much more you and me?

Nevertheless. Consider that thought: nevertheless. It means, in spite of all you see or think, it means the aside from all that, it means regardless how things seem or appear: I am continually with Him — He is continually with me — He is continually for me — His eternal presence surrounds me and His purposes for me (and for you) cannot be thwarted.

He may do for someone else what He does not or has not done for you — His plans for you may include great difficulty or sorrow — pain or illness — things that might tempt you to question His goodness or His presence. But then, His plans for you may also include some serendipities, some marvelously unmerited favours and pleasantness. These are the sweet things in life we tend to think are the best things. But have you considered the sweetest times you experience may well be the most painful or arduous experiences — things you would not have chosen but would never trade away for anything?

Nevertheless… remember these things.

Homeward bound

teacuppamela As I write this, I’m sitting in a large dining room, high atop a mountain overlooking a sweeping valley, many miles from home. In many ways, it feels strangely reminiscent of the time we spent in the hospital. Looking out over the valley, the sun streaming in through the east windows, home seems an eternity away. Nearly five weeks have passed since my husband’s bypass surgery and many of the uncertainties and events of the early post-op days seem a distant memory now — events all covered up with our new normal and activities of each passing day.

How would you like to go home? The nurse’s question to my husband sank down in my ears and into my heart. As I looked across to him sitting in his hospital bed, I thought, well, most all his life he’s lived ready to go home, so ‘How would you like to go home’ was a welcomed question. Regardless how the events of that previous week had turned out, of one thing I was very certain: to live longer would be heaven, to die would be heaven, ever living homeward bound, our times are in His hands. I could never wish for him to remain a day longer than the Lord has planned and, quite obviously, the Lord — our ultimate giver and sustainer of life — had plans for him that seemed to surprise his health-providers.

I forgot how long the process is from the initiation of patient discharge to the actual journey of heading home — it’s sort of like our lives: hurry up and wait, more tests, more paperwork, hoops to jump through and hurdles to pass over and then, finally: homeward bound.

Heading east across the trestle, I was profoundly aware that we were homeward bound together. Our times were in His hands and the Lord had clearly answered our questions and provided for all our needs. I felt sort of like a first-time mama with precious cargo securely seated in the car. That, and the reality that he did not remain in, and I would not return to, the hospital in the morning. Yes, we were homeward bound.

I’d never thought how we’d do things once we got home. I never thought how things would go. I’d never read about it, never set things up to accommodate the recuperating mended heart. And, because I thought he’d be in the hospital for a couple more days, I hadn’t even made preparations for the going home or the finally home process. But I’ve thought about the going home (to heaven) process and I recognize that there’s nothing I can do to prepare for that place except to yield my life to the Lord Jesus and to accept His gift of salvation. In yielding my life to the Lord Jesus, I daily must look to Him for His direction, trust in His covering, wait for His provision and deny my self – self serving/self centered ways and look to Him: the Author and Finisher of my faith. So also in this I needed to just go through each next open door trusting the Lord to guide me — to guide our family.

He received a hero’s welcome as we drove in the driveway; joyful relief on each of our children’s faces. All that evening as he sat in the chair in our living room, I found myself staring at my husband as if he were a breakable doll or fragile china cup. When he was quiet or when he coughed or grimaced with movement, I jumped—are you okay? I don’t know how many times I asked him that — it was many, I’m sure. Every couple of hours taking his blood pressure, temperature and pulse, I recorded the results on a chart. Heart meds, pain meds, water… everything recorded on a chart. I smile today, hindsight being 20/20, at how strong he actually was, and how fragile he seemed at the time.

You know, when you’ve never done something before, the first time’s often not very smooth. It was soon obvious that the chair we had was going to be a challenge—–sternal precautions dictated that he couldn’t push or pull anything which meant that I would simultaneously push the back and pull the foot-rest out in order for him to recline — reversing or repeating the process with each stretch of walking or sitting back down. I nervously jumped up each time he readjusted his position in the chair and again and again I asked, are you okay? I don’t know… what was I thinking? Was he going to have a heart attack?!? I dozed beside him, waking each time he moved, again asking, are you okay? His pain was intense and that first night was long — morning seemed so far away. With each break in sleep I repeated this great consolation: All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun.

Sleeping for a short stretch, just at sunrise, we were startled awake by the slow twisting and cracking sound of a very large, heavy branch of our weeping willow tree. We hurried to the window to see what had happened. We stood there praising the Lord that the limb didn’t come down on our house — still marveling at the intense impact of that great limb crashing to the ground.

I thought the things that were happening were so big, surely the Lord must be in these things. I could only praise Him for our times are in His hands and He only does all things well. Later we’d venture outside to see the tree…

Let pain be your guide

teacuppamela Just as I’d left it the night before, my parking space was waiting for me to pull in. Up the elevator and down the hall, as I rounded the corner I heard my husband talking on the phone. Wait. What? He’s making an order. Is he on the phone with Leisure? Leisure is a division of Keller Supply in Seattle. Yes, yes, he is… he is making an order for pool parts for the boys. Of course he is.

At that moment, I realized he was going to be fine. O, I’d have tentative moments of wavering over the next few weeks, but walking into his room, seeing him all wired up — to his computer, cell phone/blue-tooth and multiple lines to the IV tree, all I could do was nod my head… and observe that had that not been happening, at some point I’d probably begin to worry that that boy was not going to be fine.

So how are you, sweetheart? The hoarse reply was a bit stronger than the day before, Good, good. Getting on top of the pain. Wow, I was thinking, any more on top of it and you’ll be wanting to run laps around this place.

The vent had caused quite a sore throat and pain was managed most of the time… well, at least until close to the next dose. That day was also filled with activity and visits from different therapists — respiratory, physical, and occupational. Though great strides were made with each one, minor setbacks would serve to remind him of his limitations.

Down the hallway of that floor led to a wall of floor to ceiling windows which provided a spectacular view of the Snohomish valley and the Cascade mountains. It was a tremendously rewarding blessing and great motivation for the next walk.

Each time we stood at those windows… the incredible view, brilliant sun streaming in… strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow: I thought of the many times the Lord has carried us in the valleys and the many times He’s set us on mountaintops — we’ve walked through the valley in floods and dry land, we’ve gazed at those mountains each day through the windows of our home in that valley, we climbed the very mountains we could see in the distance and we’ve stood at the top overlooking that valley.

Throughout that day Wes would talk with our boys; sitting there in his hospital bed, the pool biz was carrying on. Those boys all took time off from their own jobs, sacrificed their time, sunup to sundown, each day doing the work they’d grown up doing — work Wes could only talk about. It was remarkable to me each day I’d return home and see yet another pool package or two was missing from the line-up next to Wes’s shop. Each day I’d say, Surely the Lord does all things well; Surely our times are in His hands. Those sons were carrying on for their daddy… amazing… not surprising, but amazing!

When the occupational therapist came back in later that day, there were more exercises to perform, tasks to accomplish, boxes to check. We got along real well with her — spent lots of time talking together. She asked if we had any more questions. Uh, when can we…? And, not missing a beat, she carried the question from there, Remember sternal precautions, Let pain be your guide, if you are feeling well enough, then go for it; just let pain be your guide… no lifting; nothing over 7 pounds for eight weeks. Be careful, remember your sternal precautions, let pain be your guide. You have to know that she gets that question pretty often. It seemed from that moment on, the lights were all turning green… yes, it was time to start thinking about getting ready to go home!

Sternal precautions… ah, yes, sternal precautions… let pain be your guide. I wonder how that works in life: let pain be your guide?

THM ♥ mama’s recipes

teacuppamela

It’s a beautiful day here! Sunshine always seems to change my outlook — sort of, no matter what I’ve got to do, if the day’s a sunny one, generally, my attitude is sunny, too! It’s taken me all these months of ‘working at’ the Trim Healthy Mama plan to get confident enough to begin sharing some of the different recipes or how I’ve learned to use the different recipes in the book — but every day I learn something new! Ever a “free-styler” I have to really work at following the recipes. But I’ve come to see and really appreciate the beauty of the THM plan is that once you have the basic understanding of meal guidelines, you can adapt the plan to your personal tastes, etc — and the recipes can be tweaked to fit your personal THM-style. I have begun to call THM a method rather than a diet. A diet (for most of us) is a temporary fix that is repeat over and over with the same results — some weightloss and the inevitable return of weight. And then some.

Learning a method of doing something and having good results over a length of time seems to replace the old way of ‘behaving’ or doing things. Most of us cannot stick with a *diet* bcz we miss so many things or we are overcome with temptation, we cheat, we figure we can never lose weight, we give in to the temptations that made us fat and unhealthy in the first place and then, to make matters worse, we give up. And get fat. And unhealthy. And the cycle repeats. Over and over again, we recycle the same problem. The bizarre thing is that when we’re not dieting at all, we don’t call eating a cookie or candy: cheating. We’re just eating. We’re just eating cookies and candies… O, we might feel like we shouldn’t eat many of them, but we don’t generally call it cheating unless we’re on a diet.

That ought to spark a lightbulb going on in our minds! How can we stop dieting and start eating so that we stop the enticement of cheating? And stop loathing our food decisions? And our bodies? Intro: THM.

The beauty of the THM method, of eating and living is that you will learn and continue learning and exploring all sorts of new ways to prepare and eat healthful and satisfying meals. I wouldn’t tell you this if it weren’t so—I couldn’t tell you this if I hadn’t already been traveling this path. Perhaps that’s why I’ve waited this long to really delve into sharing specifics and, now, recipes. I thought it wise to start right in with: Candy!

skinnychocolates

In the book, the basic recipe is on page 371… I know, right?!?!
All the way to page 371 and you find out about (S) Skinny Chocolate?!?! Yes.

I make these and call them Mama’s Candies… The candies are in a jar (or two) in the fridge if you want one. Or two.

I make them in my “mini muffin” pans lined with mini-muffin papers. I do this primarily bcz it’s easier to pop them out of the pan with they’re set and it’s easier for me to take them where I’m having a cuppa coffee. :o)

I quadruple the recipe in the book and make 72 candies — they’re approximately 50-55 calories each. Though the THM plan is not a calorie counting plan, it’s wise to know approximately what the value is so that you don’t go overboard eating stuff. In this way, I know that I am perfectly, perfectly fine with having a couple of these each day with no worries at all. In the beginning, as with *cream* in my coffee, until I calculated the calorie content, I was a bit more freestyling! ~smile~ And am still okay with all that early learning… it all worked out fine.

So here’s my recipe — I line 3 24-cup Mini muffin pans with mini muffin papers or liners (thus the 72 candy size recipe). Determine a flat area in the fridge to set the filled pans.

And then, in a measuring bowl I place…
2 Cups very warm Coconut Oil
1 Cup Cocoa
4 Tblsp. *ground Truvia
1 tsp. Sea Salt
1+ tsps. Vanilla

I either use a whisk or my stick blender to thoroughly blend all the ingredients. Then, I pour the chocolatey-goodness to fill each lined muffin cup. Then you’ll see that there is still some chocolately-goodness left in the measuring bowl. Lick your fingers clean. Unplug the stick blender… yes, you know you wanna… then wash it, too.
Set the filled muffin pans in the predetermined level place in your refrigerator — stack, but stagger them so the cups rest slightly beside each other not *in* each other. I know. ;o)
In an hour or two, you’ll have “mama’s candies.” Proceed with caution. And… these are an *S* And you won’t feel well if you eat all you think you want.

* I grind Truvia & the Sea Salt in a coffee grinder I have dedicated solely to this (and herbs) purpose. When I don’t grind the salt, also, it’s kind of grainy in the smooth chocolate.
You can make these on a flat lined cookies sheet, too… but I found that the snapping off a piece here and a piece there was too much freedom for me. I needed the discipline of a couple of pieces – not part of a slab of chocolatey-goodness. I’ve also used candy molds, too. Choose your best method…

Next time, Good Girl Moonshine !

http://store.trimhealthymama.com/default.asp

♥

More ATI / IBLP Baggage & Freedom

teacuppamela A continuation of posts in a series of thoughts looking back on our life and experiences with the Advanced Training Institute and the Institute in Basic Life Principles (hereafter, ATI / IBLP)…

I want to say at the outset, that it wasn’t all bad — ATI / IBLP — for I cannot really accurately recount the good things we learned in the ATI / IBLP years in our family or the blessings we reaped from what we experienced. And I don’t want to belabour an increasing list of negative points or excuse some of the more egregious errors in the teachings and programs — this isn’t an airing of dirty laundry or a rant of yet another disgruntled ATI family indulging in mudslinging. But error is error and a whole lot of error causes a whole lot of problems — error begets error and down the way a bit, error causes an avalanche of problems.
Errors ought to raise red flags.
The have with me… and if you/your family was involved in the program, probably with you, too. It may seem a moot point to bring all this up, now, but actually, I’ve shared much of this in the past and stuff keeps resurfacing. And then there’s this strange unspoken cardinal rule that one doesn’t question the Institute or Mr. G. (Yep, and that oughtta be a red flag for ya!)

From our old AChristianHome.org website:
“Our family was involved with the various ministries of the IBLP and ATI for many years and we determined that some of the teachings, the errors of those teachings were destructive to our walk with the LORD and therefore no longer supported the “ministry” and the myriad of programs of, or associated with, IBLP. There were MANY, MANY benefits for which we are grateful but the erroneous teachings forced our decision. We no longer support much of the work of this organization—however(!) we DO support our brothers and sisters in Christ and pray the LORD’s will for them and do not seek to divide over this matter. We believe that the erroneous teaching leads to an erroneous view of the Word, the grace of God, His design, the sovereignty of God, teaching “character” [the Character First* program] to unregenerate souls, and the methods of lifting Scripture and its Truths and application and therefore do not endorse, as a whole, the ministry…”

And I linked to numerous articles (on the AChristianHome.org website) in the early days, some 10-12 years ago; many links are broken now, so the articles would require some searching — even then, I was reluctant to say much so I let other’s articles do the talking, so to speak. One of the articles I linked to was on the Personal Freedom Outreach site, an article regarding issues with the Institute and some ongoing communication Bill Gothard and his team. And over the years I’ve had communication with Don Veinot of Midwest Christian Outreach and the work dedicated to bringing error to light. Here’s a most recent article he’s written regarding some more current matters and past issues with the institute and with Bill Gothard.

If you clicked the last link and read the article, you’ll readily see why people are so reticent to say anything, to comment or to question the work of the institute. Just like hush money is paid to keep people quiet, sometimes “hush verses” are cited by different ones to insulate people/organizations from scrutiny. But lately, many have been speaking out and the mounting accusations have been increasing. And these must be taken seriously. Even today as I have written this, a turn of events has come about. Bill Gothard has resigned from the ministry he founded after allegations of abuse and sexual harassment. Here is Recovering Grace’s response to the resignation.

So, why talk about this whole thing any longer? Error. Truth. And the ATI/IBLP Institutes are carrying on. That’s why.

I wrote of some of the ATI /IBLP baggage in another post… here’s another bit of baggage—–careful here, there’s a lot that’s good—which is why, initially, one might embrace the teaching and become a loyal advocate. But watch…

What Are Basic Life Principles?
[the “seven non-optional, universal basic principles of life taught in the Basic Seminar.” ]

1. Design: Understanding the specific purposes for which God created each person, object, and relationship in my life and living in harmony with them. Thanking God for my design brings Self-Acceptance.
2. Authority: Honoring the responsibilities of parents, church leaders, government, and other authorities and learning how God works through them to provide direction and protection. Honoring my authorities brings Inward Peace.
3. Responsibility: Realizing I am accountable to God for every thought, word, action, and motive. Asking forgiveness of those I offend brings a Clear Conscience.
4. Suffering: Allowing the hurts from offenders to reveal blind spots in my own life, and then seeing how I can benefit their lives. Fully forgiving offenders brings Genuine Joy.
5. Ownership: Understanding that everything I have has been entrusted to me by God, and wisely using it for His purposes. Yielding my rights to God brings True Security.
6. Freedom: Enjoying the desire and power to do what is right, rather than claiming the privilege to do what I want. Regaining ground surrendered to sin brings Moral Purity.
7. Success: Discovering God’s purpose for my life by engrafting Scripture in my heart and mind, and using it to think God’s thoughts and make wise decisions. Meditating on Scripture brings Life Purpose.”

Pat answers. Neatly fit in a box answers. Formula in, success out. No need for any other material–just the booklets. It all seemed so biblical, seemed to be the Bible fleshed out, so to speak. There were so many biblical references, so of course it was a biblically based program! That was the hook. That was the draw.

But it was also the underlying problem, tension and reason we could never fully buy into the program and eventually had to reject much of it. So many of the biblical references were lifted and twisted to fit the neat packages, the neat boxes. And, in a fast moving seminar, you take in so much in such a short space of time, that discernment often lags behind as the screen shots keep changing… but you take home your Red notebook, mull it over, line it up behind Scripture and you begin to see… O, wait-a-minute, this isn’t in line with Scripture. But you press on trying to figure out how to make it fit. Kinda like the Emperor’s New Clothes. And then you can’t do it anymore. At least that’s where we were.

But, interestingly, there was more baggage to sort through when we no longer received our $675. wisdom booklets, newsletters and additional offers for more ~~slick~~ New! exciting information and materials. There was a bizarre longing to belong— but it was a bad fit, it was something we didn’t even want — but isn’t it curious that we had that longing? This period of time was to last a couple of years for us, but when it passed, by the grace of God, it was incredibly freeing — so incredibly freeing. That baggage was so heavy and so confusing.

We didn’t exit the faith—no, not at all. We didn’t exit conservative homeschooling. Not at all. We didn’t walk away with nothing from all that we’d learned. We had gained a great deal and God, in His mercy, was continually rebuilding what He’d begun years earlier. We give Him glory.

But what to do with all the rules. The unspoken rules… the ATI village lore... I think these were the hardest things to grasp, sift through and sort through, to stop carrying and to reject! These were the inferred, unwritten regulations and rules. And then there were outsider’s interpretations of the ATI rules… sort of like rumors about the rumors and village lore. So then, ATI-ers were confused or maybe even duped into believing the rules really existed — many did, though, by the way — that’s why it was such a tangled web to know what was what. Seriously… these were some of the greatest bondage makers and some of the hardest to break. These rules were often not questioned — just accepted — publicly, at least. Sort of like the rule of never questioning the actions/activities of “ministers of the gospel” when the conduct is made public or when there is clear evidence of violations of scripture, etc., etc. See the dangers here? These are but a few of the dangers of following a man — instead of seeking the Lord.

If you’re carrying the baggage of ATI / IBLP… I pray for you—I pray you will have freedom from the bondage, freedom from carrying that baggage of legalism, fear, error, man-centered programs and from following after a man’s program instead of following after the Lord Jesus. I pray you will be set free—and be free to walk hand in Hand with the Lord and hear His voice. He says you will know the Truth and the Truth will set you free. ♥