Battle Scarred

When a heart is broken it takes years to heal. When a dream is lost, it takes a miracle to restore it. When tragedy strikes, it changes your DNA. When hope dies, the world grows darker. And when injustice reigns, anger stirs.


I was once very judgmental of Abraham and Sara, who doubted God and brought Hagar into the picture. How could they doubt the promises of God? These great pillars of faith, stumbled in their faith as the years passed by. I used to wonder at notion of such character, trying to determine how they ended up in the Hall of Faith, when, in fact, they doubted God and tried to fix the problem themselves. Yet there they stand, thousands of years later, imbedded into every mind of the believer.

I sit here, scorned by some for my “discontentment” at my current situation. I listen to the encouraging words of staying the course and trusting God. I take them in; put them in the places they need to go. They don’t soak up like they used to. My sponge is filled with positive words and positive outlooks. There is really not much room left. My mind swirls. Life is unfair, unpredictable, and unbeatable.

I am a fighter, and so I fight my way through it, making the most of every situation. I look around and think, “I am content.” I am thankful for my family, health, our home, our things and my marriage. I am content in the circumstances I live in, the struggles we go through, the financial trials we can’t seem to be free from and the place we live. Yet, in the deepest part of who I am, the place that feels helpless and lost, I am angry; angry at the injustice, angry at the lost dreams, angry at the tragedies, angry at the brokenness.

I walk around this empty house of mine. No children are here, no sounds are being made. There are no minds to capture with knowledge, no mouths to feed and silence is what prevails. I feel lost and purposeless. My fingers fumble some papers in my kitchen; I put them in their place and organize my mess. I see my handwriting on lined paper and curiosity grips me. I open the folded paper and see the words, “Dear Mom.” The date is July 17, 2011. Do I dare read it? It was a letter I wrote to my mom and never gave to her. I have many of these letters in my drawer. Many words written to help me heal, help me process pain, without hurting her. I open up this found treasure and begin to read.

More silence. More depth. I sigh a deep sigh, taking in my own words, I read. I see my heart dripping off the pages in sincere attempt to share my heart with her. I ask the Lord, “why now? Why does this letter show up now? What are you trying to show me?” I hear the Lord say, “Grieve.” Grieve? I have grieved, I am done grieving. She is with you in paradise. I hear Him again, “Grieve, Teresa!”

More sighs, deep, intense sighs spill out of my mouth! What? I cannot comprehend the request. I immediately think about yesterday and how I lashed out at Noah for his teachers lack of concern for his students and how I hated public school and hated how he had ran ahead with his class and did not even enjoy his time at the museum or with me. I thought about how I wanted to cuss out Elijah’s coach for his behavior and how my patience with Carah has diminished. More sighs, more tears.

But wait, isn’t this blog supposed to be about losing weight and my journey to achieve my goal? How is it that I ended up here? Is this tied to my bondage? Is there a connection to why the weight clings to my body? More questions, more frustration. Renew my mind Lord, I pray. Change my perspective, heal me, do something!!!

I feel tired, I want to sleep. Depression looms overhead and I must find the strength to fight it. I must pick up my sword and fight. Fighting to stay alive, I finally see… I am content, but I am battle scarred and exhausted and want some rest. I am angry that the battle is still raging on and I cannot give in.

The world will not change. God will not change. Only I can change. I don't know how to. I do not even know where to start. My heart aches. I am thankful to be alive, I am thankful that I am here, now, today. My mind wanders to Hagar, to Sarah and I think about how hurt Sarah must have been feeling like God had forgotton her. How abandoned Hagar felt when Sarah scorned her. These wormen, battle scarred... They fought through, they accomplished all that God had for them.

I look at myself...I see the scars. I know where each one came from. Some were inflicted upon me as a child, some as a young woman, some as a wife, some as a mother. Still others are from fighting. Fighting for the promises of God. Fighting to get there, fighting to keep hope alive, fighting to push oppression back. I fight to keep my kids from battle wounds, and feel defeated when I cannot protect them. Self inflicted wounds scar my body as well. The times I beat myself up for not being enough.

Breathing deep, I stop at this place of wonder and try to spy another way, another path. I am torn. I do not want to do things my own way, like Abraham and Sarah; but I don't want to just sit and not move forward. I am frustrated, angry and scarred.

God saw Abraham for who he was and loved Sarah for all her faults, saw Hagar when she was invisible.… I am content in the knowledge that my God will walk me through and still see me as I really am.

Today is big enough

Nothing… I did nothing yesterday. No workout, no weights, no running. It was not planned or intentional, it just happened. My daughter stayed home from school and instead of tending to me, I tended to her. I love tending to her; it is how I was made. I have tended to my kids for 16 years in utter delight. It has been my number one priority. We wrapped gifts, snuggled on the couch, watched Christmas movies, made soup for dinner and took a nap. Once the boys started coming home, it was time for dinner. We had an unexpected visitor who stayed until 11:30pm and then it was already time for bed.


In the past these days would highly discourage me. I would beat myself up and allow guilt and shame to consume me. Not today. Today I have had enough of that. Today I chose to look at the positive, to keep my glass from getting empty. Today I looked at what I accomplished. I ate well; Cheerios, soup, corn bread, soup again, and wine. I would have eaten a little more; only, I need to go grocery shopping. I spent time with my daughter, just she and I. I cleaned house and decorated the guest house. Our guest was a blessing, we broke bread with him and laughed and talked about intense things of God. My husband was filled and it blessed me.

So this morning as I start a new day, fog still hovering, sun still hiding; I will not let the past haunt me. I will not even plan for tomorrow and what I am going to do. I will just focus on today. Today is big enough.

Weight Inside

I woke up yesterday morning at 9:00am; I didn’t want to get up; I was snuggling close to my baby girl. I crawled out of bed, dreading the first day of this journey. My heart pounding out of my chest, feeling purposeless, feeling angry and agitated, I got up and started to run. I ran to my neighbors house, walked a mile with her and ran back home; 2 miles in all.


I ate every 2 hours, Cheerios, protein shake, grape tomatoes, salad, strawberries, homemade corn tortilla, hummus and pasta and a cookie my daughter made.

I wanted to work out more. I wanted to do a workout video and weights, but the weight of life was too much. I felt angry and frustrated. I told my husband that is was time to move, time to move on. We have been in Fresno almost 11 years now and I am done. I am ready for change, ready for something to move.

Tears swell in my eyes as I feel the angry rise up inside of me. I am swelling with rage on behalf of my son, who has endured too much hardship. Too many times has he been belittled and beat down and overlooked. He asked me tonight, “Am I invisible mom?” Another award ceremony and he did not receive one. The kids that did do not have the stats or the college recognition that he does, yet, the coach, passed him by. I wanted to cuss the coach out and tell him to take his Napoleon complex to another school. I wanted to tell him that he is responsible for building these kids up, not tearing them down. He gave MVP to a player that was most definitely not MVP, and the kid who should have received it, sat quietly next to my son and said nothing. He too receives letters and visits from coaches. I wonder at how this could even be happening.

I came home and wanted to eat ice cream. Luckily we did not have ice cream. I thought, “Do I usually eat when I am pissed off and angry?” I quickly made tea. The flavor, Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride by Celestial, no sugar is necessary, and I sat next to my hurting son and sipped quietly. Both Bill and I gave him parental talks that usually include people like Tim Tebow and Ray Lewis in the examples of overcoming adversity. Bill told him, it is better to receive nothing in high school and play in college and the NFL, than to receive all the awards and never play again after high school. I went to bed scrolling through my phone for jobs outside of Fresno. Day 1 complete.

This morning, as I write, reflecting on my first day of working out and eating, I am trying to see how my emotions tie in with my weight, or if they do at all. I have determined that I feel burdened, lost and disillusioned. I feel irritated at the notion of hope and can’t see the future.

Day 2… I have not worked out yet. It is 9:30am. My daughter is home sick. I have been at the High School since 8am meeting with Elijah’s counselor. She blessed me. She spoke life into my son. I left him there, her hands, thankful I could trust her. I drove home and sat down at the computer. I have been writing for 30 minutes, my day is about to begin…

See Through...

I have lived a very transparent life. I believe that by doing so, it alleviates unnecessary pain. By showing the world my deepest and darkest places, there is really nothing that people can “find” on me that would destroy some false image I have created. I find it to be both extremely liberating and fundamentally challenging to live this way, but freedom has been the fruit of this lifestyle.


Yet, there is a dark gloomy shadow that hovers over me. In my most vulnerable state, I have still had to hide one painful truth; I am overweight. It is evident to the naked eye that I carry excess baggage, but in my attempt to heal from deep pain, I have learned to be comfortable in that excess. I have learned to love myself and have grown to have a positive self image. Years of unsuccessful attempts at weight loss have taught me that beauty lies within, yet, I am trapped in this flesh suit that I cannot escape from and it is affecting my health.

I have, through much prayer and many years decided to make my weight loss struggle public. To share the successes and failures of my journey. My goal is to blog daily and share the journey with you. I am hoping that this will help me to process why I have not been able to lose the weight, after years of trying. I will share whatever the Lord reveals, any issues I find along the way and emotions I encounter along this journey.

I begin today.

Today I am making goals, making charts and scheduling time for workouts. I will document all the food I eat and what time and what workouts I do. I will also be taking photos along the way.

My start weight is 248 pounds. The heaviest I have ever been. I have weighed 235 for the last 15 years and in the last year I have gained 13 pounds; a pound a month. I have also been diagnosed with high blood pressure, which, I am sure is attributed to stress and trauma as well as weight, and want it to be normal. I am not sure what my cholesterol and blood sugar look like, I am getting a blood test down next week.

My cardiologist suggested lap band surgery. I was mortified and freaked out all at once. What? How could I be a candidate for a surgery like that? I am, however, 100 pounds overweight and that is considered enough to warrant the surgery. I have decided to commit to 6 months of intensive workouts and lower my calorie intake to 1500 a day. This is not the first time I have done this. In fact, I have accomplished many things in my weight loss journey over the last 15 years; a triathlon, The Wharf to Wharf- 6K, training to run a marathon maxing out at 12 miles and limiting my calorie intake to 1500 a day. Each time I set my mind to a goal, I accomplished it and each one took a commitment of over 6 months and each time I attempted such a feat, I only lost a maximum of 4 pounds.

So I have become apathetic, discouraged and even angry at the results. I have had my thyroid tested, and other possible reasons as to why my body has not responded to my attempts to lose weight. Nothing was found.

So I told the Lord, I will do this for 6 months and nothing changes, then I may have to consider some medical help. I want to do this without medical intervention. So please pray that my body reflects who God created me to be and to respond to my attempts.