***Disclaimer: I like my blog posts to be like a TV sitcom. Clever and entertaining with the storyline neatly tied up at the end. I'm afraid this one is more like C-Span coverage. But I needed to do it for myself. And I certainly understand if you want to change the channel. I promise not to make it a habit.***
I've mentioned before that I'm not into New Year's Resolutions because of my near perfect record of breaking every single one I've ever made, but thanks to my recent *brush with death* I've been doing some soul searching and some things are just gonna have to change. They just must.
I'm in my pre-teen 30's (30+ 11, which is considered a pre-teen in my estimation). My mom was about this age when I was about Hallie's age. And to the best of my only-child recollection (read: totally unaware of anything that didn't have a direct impact on my immediate happiness), it was about this time in her life that she first began having health issues. She'd struggled with weight, and maybe some other things I didn't know about, but nothing terribly serious until her early-to-mid 40's when she was diagnosed with diabetes. And I remember the doctor saying, "Even if diabetes is well-controlled, it still takes a toll on your body over the years."
When I was thirteen, my mother had a triple-bypass. I was in the eighth grade, the age HannahKate is right now. It's sobering to remember how my life changed from assuming my mother would always be there to wondering if she'd see me graduate from high school.
Enough with the doom and gloom, though. I've come to the realization that I must take better care of myself and my family. I. simply. must. I'm so sick of hearing about "diet and exercise". Probably because I know its true, but it requires so many characteristics that I lack: discipline, willpower, and motivation just to name a few.
I wish I could say that I have a fast-track plan and the whole-hearted support and cooperation of my family. I wish I could say that its just a matter of making up my mind to eat healthy and exercise regularly. I wish I could say that I will not be discouraged by the whining, complaining and arguing voiced by my kids about what we will and will not eat. (I REALLY wish there wouldn't be any whining, complaining or arguing...but that's definitely pushing it.)
But I can't say any of those things. All I can do is bring this burden to the Lord and bathe it in prayer. I don't mean that to sound preachy, over dramatic or holier-than-thou. I mean that I understand that, short of His supernatural intervention, I am destined to fail.
One of my constant prayers for my church is that God would move in such a way that no person or persons could conceivably take credit. A move that can only be "explained" by the Holy Spirit...that even skeptics shake their heads in wonder. And I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say that it will take this same kind of movement in my life and the lives of my family if we are going to defy heredity.
So I'm praying. Praying, praying, praying...