The Long Haul

It's been a long few days. A long week. Things are not...great. But things aren't terrible, either. I guess it depends on your perspective. 

A little background...In 2011, after we found out my then-17-year-old daughter was going to have a baby, hubby and I talked about how we could best support her.  At first, "support" meant, "No, we will not sign papers for you to terminate the pregnancy; yes, we are aware you could cross state lines and do it anyway, but please don't" - and then, as she got more used to the idea of being pregnant, support meant just to be there to talk to her, to help her see her relationship with the boyfriend in a positive light, to encourage the two of them, and to make sure she had nothing, really, to worry about. Financially, emotionally, in whatever way we could, we supported our daughter. 

Then around February of last year the hubs and I started truly talking about, What if I were to quit work? I could take care of the baby while Daughter went to school and/or worked. The only thing was, we needed my income to make ends meet. But: what if Husband could get a job that would replace my income?

So, he did. He went back into the car business. I remember how terrible it was when he was in the car business years ago, so I kind of figured it would be terrible again, but nothing could prepare me for the roller-coaster we've been on since that fateful decision. 

 At the end of the 2012 school year I turned in my notice to the school district; meanwhile, over the summer, Husband was working crazy long hours making killer money. Problem was, the dealership was asking him to do things that, while legal, weren't nice.  And the upward mobility wasn't what they'd said it would be.  He ended up leaving that job to go work for a guy he used to work for, and liked working for, years ago.

Immediately husband was happier. Loved his job, liked his boss, hours weren't terrible. Fantastic! This was fall, and we had some money saved up. The boss was upholding his end of their agreement, paying Husband what they had agreed upon. Things were going well for a couple of months. But then business dropped off. Just before Christmas, the boss cut husband's pay. Slashed it. Whittled it down to a nub. As in, Husband's paycheck was roughly 10% of what we needed to stay afloat.

Did I mention that this happened around Christmas? Yeah. 

So then, hubby starts looking for a new job. Starts looking seriously in January. Finds a new job. Seems like it's going to be a good place. He started in February and he was promoted very quickly into a position he really, really wanted and is very good at. Fantastic! Hooray! But what's the catch? Well, first of all, hubby doesn't have a pay plan. If you're in sales already skip this next part because you know what I'm talking about. For the rest of us ordinary people, a pay plan is an agreed-upon way the salesperson makes money. Car sales people make $100 for every car ("unit") they sell, or $50 if they have to split the sale. Finance guys make a percentage off the front end (net profit) and the back end (financing kick-backs from lenders). All dealerships will incentivize their sales staff by offering more money (higher percentage of the profit) when they attain certain sales goals. (But dealerships are also very clever in how they structure sales goals, so the goals seem attainable but usually aren't....they get the benefit of the salesperson's work, without having to compensate them when they don't reach the prescribed goal.) Pay plans are unique to every dealership.  

Not having a pay plan is bad. It's like working blind, but it's worse than that - it's saying you will *completely* trust the dealership to compensate you fairly for your work.  In all honesty I've never heard of anyone in the car business that worked without a pay plan.  Therefore, I've been more than a little worried how this is all going to work out. 

Now, I know that worry does nothing for me.  I am fully aware that "each day has its own trouble," because "who, by worrying, can add even an hour to his life?" And that I shouldn't "be concerned about what to eat or what to drink or what to wear," because God knows that I need those things as well. I should "seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness" so that all these things will be given to me.  I know this. I KNOW.  But I guess that's where the Christian rubber has been hitting the road lately.  It's one thing to KNOW this stuff; it's another thing entirely to PRACTICE it. 

Good thing our pastor has been preaching on this very thing lately. (Tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor!)  

Lately, husband has been coming home looking very worn out, very defeated, and very unhappy.  And when I look at my rapidly-dwindling bank account, counting to myself the very little bit of money we have left that I am supposed to live off of for two whole weeks - ha, ha! - I, too, am feeling unhappy. Stressed. Worried. Starting to look around the house and think, What can I sell? or, Maybe I should give plasma at the blood bank for $20 a pop, I could do that a couple of times and have gas money.

That brings me to....today.  Husband had to work today. Today. On a Sunday. Because the GM of the dealership said everyone had to work today. He also said that if they don't sell 20 cars by the end of the month, everyone will be working next Sunday. Easter Sunday. He said he doesn't care if it's Easter or not, or if everyone thinks he's a jerk: they need to sell 20 cars, period, or "you can go find another job somewhere else." 

Pretty sure that's not legal, but it is the car business so it probably is somehow just barely justifiable. Anyway: poor tired husband went to bed early last night - as early as he could, considering he got home around 10 pm - so he would be rested enough to get up and go play drums at church.

Before he went to sleep, hubby was lying in our bed and just looking so defeated. I felt so guilty. Like I should never have agreed to this crazy idea of me quitting work so I could help with the baby.  I told him I regretted quitting my job. I said it wasn't worth it, to see everything he was going through. He made light of it. 

This morning, at church, I felt like I was hiding it pretty well, but then I saw a friend of ours who just always, always knows what's going on with you. He is ridiculously intuitive.  As I brought in doughnuts and started making coffee for the cafe, our friend asked if he could help me. I smiled and shook my head. "You're carrying around a heavy burden," he said, which almost made me cry. I didn't say anything. Long pause. Then: "It's that heavy." I didn't say anything, couldn't look at him. I shrugged. He helped me make coffee and get the cafe ready.

Several times during worship I thought I was going to cry.  Then, after the sermon, pastor called people up for prayer. Husband went up. I did too, but kind of behind him. Pastor prayed over him, then our friend prayed over him. I hoped it would help. 

Hubby had to leave during second service to get to work on time. At the end of that service, Pastor again called people up for prayer, and I went up. Our friend came and prayed for me.  He really just spoke the truth to me: There is much chaos in my house lately. We have made some very big sacrifices for our family. And I am a strong woman of God, and I keep praying, and God knows this, and He is there. And He is proud of me. I never knew how much I needed to  hear that, until I did. This really struck my heart powerfully. And my friend prayed for peace, and I did feel much more peaceful.  Also I cried. I hate that. But I guess it was necessary. 

After church I had to go to the grocery store and return some stew meat that had gone bad (the rest of the stew fixings were waiting), and while I was there, I just....went ahead and got a couple of things I knew we needed. Because like Pastor has been preaching: I am going to just go out there in faith and wait for God to do something, because He is. Or, if He isn't, if we keep getting the same old situations and the same problems over and over again, we will pray to find out what it is God wants us to learn from these situations. Either way: it's in His hands.

Everything, I mean. Everything is in His hands. Our lives. Our family. Our health, our money, our home, our cars - everything. There is not one thing He doesn't know about, not one thing He hasn't blessed us with.

I feel like I keep asking my Daddy to help, help, help me, and help me again....I guess I really have been worried, like Pastor talked about today in his sermon illustration: I have been worried that I'm annoying the Lord by asking and asking for help...when really, He is so amazing, He is so big - measuring the universe in his hand! - that nothing is too hard for him. 

I'm in this for the long haul. I'm in my marriage for the long haul, I'm in my family for the long haul, and I'm in my faith for the long haul. I'm not going to let temporary worldly concerns define me! If God be for me, who can be against me? And has He not commanded me to be strong and courageous, for He is with me always? Even Elijah, God's prophet, who ran away because Jezebel put a bounty on his head - even Elijah didn't get lifted out of his circumstances. Instead, the LORD allowed Elijah to see him. That was it. That was enough. 

Loving myself

So, I haven't been posting lately. I'm kind of embarrassed actually. I have felt very helpless in this journey of weight loss, and also very conflicted....let me explain. Helpless is because I haven't had access to a gym. (I'll get to conflicted in a minute.) 

Now, I know what you're thinking: Hey, if you can't work out at the gym, just do something at home! And you would basically be right in stating that. But unfortunately I not only have a hang-up about working out at home, I also have a bad knee...which was getting better through different exercises I was doing at the gym, that it would be hard to replicate here at home without gym equipment. 

Unfortunately we had to temporarily stop the gym membership due to financial reasons. So no gym, for awhile. In order for me to get back to even a minimal level of physical fitness I simply need to have a functioning knee, therefore I need the gym. So there's that. 

The conflicted part comes in because I fully recognize what a sick culture we live in, where the ideal image of a beautiful woman is a woman who is vastly underweight but with big boobs. I wish I could say I am so enlightened that I'm beyond this imagery. But I am not. And it's not my husband, either; he loves me no matter how I look and he is, quite frankly, the most supportive husband in the history of the world. I adore that he lavishes me with love and tenderness regardless if I'm a size 4 or a size 14. It's not him. It's me. I have internalized the cultural myth that self-worth and public value are both tied in to a certain dress size. 

Now, again, I know what you're thinking. Why don't you just get over it? The only opinion that should matter is your husband's. And again: you would be right. But right or not, I still have internalized the cultural script that "thin is good," and it's not exactly simple to rid myself of this idea. In fact, it's almost foundational to my very being; I've been under pressure from this ever since my dad started working out when I was 10 years old and I got the message from him that personal value is established physically, both in attractiveness and in fitness.

So I'm stuck with this cultural and father-led script. And I'm also stuck with a body that does not respond well to anything less than hours of physical fitness combined with a high protein, low carb diet.

Basically, I've pretty much been feeling sorry for myself. I know that's ridiculous. I do understand how pathetic that is. Which is precisely why I haven't been writing on this blog....I knew where I was at, and I knew it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

All that brings me to yesterday. For the past several weeks I have been embracing a very nihilistic attitude of, "I'm broken and I can't fix myself so why not drown my sorrows in food?" that I was pretending was an attitude of " my husband thinks I'm beautiful the way I am so I can have as many cookies as I want." All of which boils down to me eating a crap ton of crap food while fooling myself that it doesn't matter.
But then I had this revelation last night. It was Valentine's Day yesterday so I suppose I was thinking about love in general. But then last night, as I was going to bed, it hit me: have I been showing love to myself by shoving cookies down my throat? 

This stopped me. In one moment, I finally understood. It's not as much about losing weight as it is about loving myself.
This may seem very simple to you, but to me, this was an astonishing realization. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I have wasted almost my entire life feeling like I was a moral failure for not being thin. And because of this, I have not allowed myself to be loving towards myself. 

Jesus said we are to love or neighbors as we love ourselves. We are to actually love ourselves. This is radical! It means that for me to really love those around me, I need to first love....me. Not in a vain way, not to be arrogant, but in the all-encompassing agape way, with compassion and mercy and non-judgmentalism.