Writing Exercises: Declutter

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I'm skipping ahead to the eleventh writing exercise, because that's where I am with the actual work, right now. I will probably go back and do some of the exercises that I have skipped, as they become relevant, just in case you were wondering what happened to all the stuff on the list in between my posts.

Today is about decluttering, and that's part of the rewriting process that I'm in with my first draft manuscript. I have temporarily set aside my second book's development, in favor of rewriting the book that has all its bones in place.

Rewriting/decluttering is quite an interesting process. For me, it's not entirely about eliminating unnecessary fluff (as the exercise post would suggest), though there is some of that. For me, it's more taking the bones of the story and filling them out. I'm going through and identifying the questions that the current manuscript leaves unanswered. I'm finding loose threads and deciding if the thread goes or gets more fully woven into the book.

The biggest decluttering moment for me was deciding what the key component is of the story, and it was one of those "aha!" moments when I remembered that the story I was writing is God's story. It changed the impetus of the whole book for me and released me to make changes. I have been cutting things that I was very pleased with (at least writing-wise) because they don't work with the overall theme. It's very freeing.

I've decided to take one story line at a time and address each individually and entirely before moving on to the next story line. I found that there were questions leftover in each story, and the theory is that completing each story individually will most likely help me to end up with a coherent book. I'm down to the last chapter or so of the story line I was working on yesterday, and that feels pretty good. Yesterday, after a hardcore workday, I spent nearly as many hours rewriting as I had in my full-time job, and managed to work through draft 2 of five chapters. Let me tell you, I was fried, but in a good way, when it came to bedtime. My brain is still sizzling.

My estimate for the book is that draft 3 will go out to my test readers for review. The second draft should be pretty good, but the third draft should have all but the minutest of details addressed. My current intuition is that I'll be comfortable receiving feedback on that version. I'm hopeful that only copyediting will be needed at that point, and I'll be able to move on to publishing and focusing on book 2 (and the rest of the series).

Making progress,
LL~

{This writing exercise is the eleventh from "15 Habits of Great Writers," which I came across on Pinterest.}

Writing Exercises: Build

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My darling husband and I recently attended the premiere of a short film that was created to use as a conversational tool in the pro-life advocacy world. One of the things that struck me about the film was that the creators put in the work to build it to completion. It takes a lot of effort to create a film. It took a lot of people, a lot of time, and a lot of effort.

God often inspires us to do things, but what we do with the inspiration, at least in my case, is somewhat lacking. How many things has God given my brain and I let them sit until they're lost into the recesses of my memory? How many stories have I not written? How many gestures have I not made? How many gifts have I not given? Sadly, too many.

Well, I'm working on following through with my books. I haven't done a lot of the rewriting, for one thing because the uninterrupted time I have tends to go to my job. I am thinking about taking a few days off and just working on that.

I have, however, been writing. I've been writing back-story and descriptions. I've been writing things that may not end up in any of the books, that may not be seen by anyone by me, but that help me think in an amount of detail that, I believe, will help me create richer images in the books. Perhaps the story of the First Dark Queen's curse won't ever be shared. Perhaps no one cares about the geography of the continent(s) where the stories take place. It helps me, though.

I have taken some of my thoughts and created a map, which helps me mentally place how things need to happen. I'm not much of an artist, but it helps me visualize the story line. It also has broadened the possibilities to me, and I have begun a list of potential story lines I can pursue in future books. I'm building, however slowly, the foundation that I can use to build a series.

Yay, me.

Blessings,
LL~

{This writing exercise is the eighth from "15 Habits of Great Writers," which I came across on Pinterest.}

Writing Exercises: Practice

Or "practise" for those who hold with British English. :)

Specifically, the challenge for today is to "practice in public."

• Pitch a magazine you want to write for. Follow some of the templates in You Are a Writer. This article might help, too.

• Ask a friend (or stranger) to guest post on his/her blog. Here’s another useful post.

• Publish something on your blog you’ve never shared with anyone. Take a risk (we’ll be doing more of this soon).

• Submit that book proposal. Don’t “work on it.” Finish it. Send it off. And say a little prayer.

Well, I don't want to write for magazines. I don't know that I have anything to guest post about, and my books aren't ready for me to submit proposals, so blog it is!

Technically, I've already done this, since I basically announced on here that I'm a writer and that I have written the first draft of my first book. The thing is, I'm fairly certain that I don't have a blog following, so announcements in empty rooms (and equivalents thereof) don't mean much.

To be honest, blogging sometimes feels somewhat egotistical. Sometimes I feel that sitting down to type out a post is basically saying, "I'm so very important that you should know how wonderfully important I am, too! Look at me! Look at me!" And then, being the introvert/hermit that I am, I cringe and don't post anything. haha. So to write this post about my books is not comfortable for me. It is, however, practice.

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There are times that words well up in me, and I simply have to write them down. There are times that I have had the words, failed to write them, and then regretted it. I didn't want the story in my first book to be one of those things. I had thought of a piece of the story line (though I think "was inspired with" might be more accurate), and I actually followed through and started typing it out. It was actually pretty good, so I told my parents about it. They each wanted me to read it to them, and then they each encouraged me to keep writing. In a fairly short amount of time, I had 21 chapters and a decent story.

I recently visited my parents, and they had me read the entire book to them. On the trip, I began the second book. One of the beautiful things about reading what you've written out loud is that you find out where the flow is broken, where the ideas don't work properly, and where you need more or less explanation, so that process helped me see that the book would need a rewrite. I began the rewrite yesterday.

In the rewriting process, I'm not scrapping anything and completely starting over. I'm actually building more detail and fleshing out what I didn't realize was bare bone until I read it aloud.

I had already had a list in my book journal of questions that had gone unanswered, of ideas I'd like to develop, of story lines that didn't come into play, etc., so now I'm adding to that list.

There are several story lines that I know are percolating that were either tangential to the stories in the first book, or didn't come into it at all. Those are books yet to be written. There are questions that I could have answered in the first book, but never quite got around to answering, so now I'm looking for places to pull those answers in-- and this feels, to me, like working a snagged, loose thread back into the garment where it's supposed to be.

Toward the end of writing the first draft, I got so caught up in the momentum of the unfolding events that I failed entirely to explain what was happening, even though I could see it clearly in my head, so now I'm going back and writing those scenarios more carefully.

There's an entire running metaphor that I pulled out of the first draft, because it wasn't working, but didn't entirely eliminate from everywhere it was mentioned, so now I get to deal with that. Do I rework it and put it back in? Do I erase all mention of it (which is where I'm leaning) and not even try to explain it? It's a conundrum, surely.

The biggest problem I have at this point is the fact that I don't yet know the names of the books or the series. I'm not saying that they don't have names. I'm certain they do. It's just that they haven't introduced themselves to me properly, so we're carrying on these deep conversations, getting to know each other intimately, but we're both kind of referring to each other as "you" and "um" instead of by name.

Anyway, this is more information than I've shared with anyone about my writing process and my first book(s), so if there's anyone reading this, welcome to my world!

Blessings,
LL~

{This writing exercise is the fourth from "15 Habits of Great Writers," which I came across on Pinterest.}

Writing Exercises: Initiate

Alright, so I'll be honest. The challenge for yesterday was to get up 2 hours early and write, but I don't function as well in the mornings, and I didn't do that. I'm not likely to, to be completely frank. Well, at least not unless that's the only way.

I did, however, actually do some writing. I started the rewrite on the first book, and I hand-wrote in my book journal some of the backstory (8 pages worth) for the books. I also initiated a conversation with my husband about some plans which include the possibility of publishing, so there's that.

Since the key point about getting up early was to "make room" to write, I think I'll stick with making room during the part of the day that I'm mentally functional. Now, where will it fit today?

Blessings,
LL~


{This writing exercise is the third from "15 Habits of Great Writers," which I came across on Pinterest.}

Writing Exercises: Declare

I am a writer.

This is not a shocking statement to find on a blog, but it's one that I have been reticent to make. It's not, at this point, my job to write. At this point, my job is where I spend 40+ hrs/week and get a paycheck, and that involves little writing. What writing I do in my job is either email content or policy/procedure documentation or clarification.

The thing about that is even though it is not my job to write, I take the writing I do for my job very seriously. I edit for grammar, punctuation, spelling, and content. I read and edit for fluidity, and with an intent to make things as easily comprehensible as possible. I write policy like a writer, and I read it with a critical reader's eye. So even in my job, where I don't get paid to write, I'm still a writer.

I have two blogs, to which I seldom post. That sentence is one of the main reasons for my reticence about calling myself a writer. Because I don't post often, much less every day. I post what I want to post, when I want to post it, and I don't have a substantial following, if any. Oh, I often INTEND to post, but I rarely follow through on that intention. I am not disciplined in my writing, and that frustrates me, even though I have the tools and ability to change that.

It's like being fat. Everyone knows that to cease (or keep from) being fat you have to eat properly and exercise, finding the right balance of both for your individual body. Discipline is self-driven when it comes to the things we want for ourselves. In adult life, few things are disciplined by external forces, and for me, both my weight and my writing are where they are because of a lack of self-discipline.

Yet, I still say, I am a writer. I have written the entire first draft of my first novel and have started on my second novel. I have multiple thoughts about the rewrite that is coming to the first book, but again, the lack of discipline in this area is what keeps that from materializing. My parents, both great readers, have both enthused about my book, but I tend to chalk their opinions up to parental pride, rather than actual excellence in my writing. I do a disservice to both them and me, though, when I do that. My book is good. It's not as good as it will be, but it's a good start.

There are a thousand and three things (at least) that I should be doing right now, as my housekeeping (or lack thereof) will attest, but I sit here, completing a writing exercise. Because it's important to me. Because it's important to ME. I want to be a disciplined writer. I want my writing to outlive me. I want to reach people through the words that God has given me. I want my words to pour out of my heart which is filled with praise for the Creator who fashioned me to bear His image, so that others will see Him and know Him, and to do that, I must write. I must write whether or not it's convenient, because I need to develop the discipline.

I am a writer.

LL~

{This writing exercise is the first from "15 Habits of Great Writers," which I came across on Pinterest.}

My Clean Home: Part 2

If there's anyone out there who still peeks in on me from time to time, I apologize for my absence. It's been a complex year. Both I and my darling husband have spent some time being sick and in recovery--amounting to the bulk of this calendar year, surprisingly enough. We're still working on home remodeling projects, and between those things and the full-time job stuff, time seems to get away. Forgive me? Love me anyway?

Does this cute picture of a sloth help?

Recently, my "spare" time has been occupied by a lot of organizing/reorganizing projects. I'm down to one big one, and a couple closets. I got to thinking about it, over the last couple of months, and decided that I needed to make some headway. This is partially due to the fact that I'm feeling better than I had been. It's also partially due to the fact that while taking sick time (much more than I had envisioned), lots of things went undone in my home. That's depressing. It's hard, when you feel unwell, to even know where to start, after things have gone downhill.

Additionally, I've noticed a trend in my family. In a recent conversation with my Mumsy, we were talking about how we always do things to stage a house when we're getting ready to sell it, or the way we try to get things all organized to pack up when we move. In a family of semi-nomads who move every couple of years whether we need/want to or not, the next move is something that starts coming up (at least in our minds, if not in conversation) after we've lived somewhere longer than a year. Anyhoo, the tendency I noticed is that we tend to get things done so that it's the way we want them to be, right before we move. Then everything's a disaster at the new place, or situated to "make do" until we get to those projects-- usually right before we move out. Why do we do this?

My brother's family is the black-sheep of the nomads in two respects. 1) They don't move every couple of years. They only move if it's necessary. 2) When they move in, they move everything directly into its forever home in the new house, eliminating anything that doesn't have a home, and never "making do" (I think this is because they don't know if/when they will ever move again, and they don't save stuff they can't use in this house, just in case it might work in the next one). If they decide to do a project, they just do it. Weird. I know. :)

So, based on the above, I thought that maybe I should do some of the pre-move work so that we can live in this house the way we would like to... Visionary! Here's the thing. We've always known that we're not going to live in Greenville forever. We have said, all along, since beginning our relationship, that we'd probably spend a few years in this house, then move closer to the Midwest and our extended families. We're coming up on our two year anniversary, so in theory, that move is creeping our direction. Sometimes it feels like it's rapidly approaching. Sometimes not. Either way, shouldn't our house function the way we live? Shouldn't we enjoy our home? Even if it's only for another year or so?

I got to thinking about all this and started looking around with different eyes. If I were staging this place to show prospective buyers, what would I change? How would I incorporate the elements that don't appear to fit so that we could actually live here while being prepared for short-notice showing? What's different about the way we live and the way our home functions?

I have to learn to take pictures as I'm working through these processes. Sorry, but I don't have many pictures for this.

I started with the living room, because it's an easy one. We actually spend quite a bit of time in there, and aside from life stuff, it doesn't get particularly messy. Some big thoughts for the living room:

• We don't own a television, so that (and its accompanying paraphernalia) is not the focal point, and is rather conspicuously absent to those who expect to see a huge screen gaping at them.
• We have a fireplace that opens on two sides. Not back and front. Front and side. It's incredibly awkward to decorate around. It's also flush with the floor and doesn't have a mantle. 
• Our furniture is a conglomeration of stuff we've collected over the years, and most of it has at least one story. 
• The room is an L shape, with a long, thin main portion and a weird little skinny, short lip (with the 2-sided fireplace on the corner). 

Please forgive the grainy phone picture. Nearly finished re-org of shelves.

I have two IKEA Expedit bookshelves, 5x5 and 4x4 (also a matching 2x4 that currently lives in the kitchen), side by side on the main wall. I suppose they could move, but it'd be a pain, so I decided to plan around them. I started with the bookshelves and pulled everything that wasn't a book off them, just as a starting point. Then I went through the house collecting books that didn't have a home (and some that did).

Since I'm a reader and I acquire books like a freshly washed windshield collects splatters during lovebug season in Florida, there tend to be books in every room of my home, stashed in boxes/on furniture/in closets, and randomly dropped here and there near every comfortable surface I might use for reading. I tend to be in the middle of multiple books at once, so many of them have bookmarks, (gasp!) folded page corners, or an ink pen keeping my spot. Unfortunately, I'll get sucked into another one, and I don't always finish all I've started-- especially if I misplace them or start researching a new topic.

All that to say, I found a ton of books that didn't live on the living room shelves. This caused a spontaneous reorganization of the living room shelves. I have two methods to my madness when it comes to shelves. 1) I want books organized in some way so that I can find them when I want them. My memory is not eidetic, but pretty sharp, so I do tend to want to look things up later for exact reference. 2) I want the shelves to be visually pleasing. With the square boxes, I have 41 individual spaces to organize, with the overall larger squares of 25 and 16 spaces, respectively. That gives me lots of options. Yay, for my inner nerd. :)

All the books that hadn't previously lived on the shelves got shuffled into what was there, things got reorganized to accommodate the influx, and we wound up with books filling every cube but three. When I lived in Florida, I had the 5x5 in the living room, and had books in every other cube (13 cubes) in a checkerboard pattern. I had attempted the same thing, here, but wound up filling more cubes initially. When I pulled pretty much everything into the living room, this time, I started to realize the volume of our collection. Considering the office and the master bedroom have their own bookshelves and collections, the quantity in the living room becomes fairly impressive, even to me. I'll do another post with more detail on the bookshelves another day. 

Since the shelves are now mostly filled with books, the ephemera (candles, decorative items, etc) ended up in the guest room, temporarily, until I can decide how to redistribute or store. I like what The Nester says about "shopping" your house, occasionally. I just don't tend to do it. Cutting down on clutter is giving me a better idea of what I really want the decor to be, though, so I'm not really sure how much of what has been removed will return, or at what point. We'll see.

More pictures, and the continuation of the living room on another day. Since this post has been sitting here waiting for me to finish it for more than a week, I'm going to stop here. :)

Much love,
LL~

On the Road again...

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My darling husband and I are on the road to Washington DC for a business conference this weekend. We took today and Monday off, but I've spent nearly 7 hours working from the car instead of just enjoying the drive. Such is life, when you're employed. Those hours of work probably saved me multiple hours more of timecard corrections, so I'm not too bothered by it. Just a preamble to the government's new fiscal year, which starts Monday.

In the mean time, we will be attending a business conference that is all about what makes this country the "land of opportunity"-- our Free Enterprise system. You know, it is my belief that there are a lot of great countries in this old world, and that this USA has been one of the greatest. It is my opinion that it will only remain great as long as long as there remains opportunity for people of all ilks to build something of their own.

I have little to say against huge corporations, until they begin to choke out entrepreneurship. Frankly, entrepreneurship is by its very nature a fairly difficult thing to destroy, and for that I'm thankful. As long as people have that drive to take responsibility for their own lives and futures, there's still hope. Hope, not just for this country, but for humanity, as well.

What I do have something to say against is the big-government mentality that asserts some poorly-developed opinion that the government is responsible for the people, that the government owes everybody something, and that the government shall provide for all manner of privilege. The government of this country is by the people, and for the people, and that means that the people have a responsibility over the government, not the other way around. If you want to eat out and carry a smartphone and drive a whichever-brand vehicle, then by all means, go out and do the work and earn it. Don't go into debt for it, and don't expect someone to hand it to you. Those things aren't rights. They're privileges.

Health care isn't a right that the government must provide. Anything the government gets its hands on winds up in a mess. While the healthcare system isn't in spectacular shape now, one thing that's sure is that the more government gets involved, the worse it'll be.

As varying internet memes state, if you're sporting an iphone, fake nails, cigarettes, or drugs, you're clearly not in need of welfare or food stamps. Those things aren't rights. You're not entitled. No one is. Just because you think something doesn't make it so. Reality check, people. You are responsible for you, and to some degree, those around you. No one else is responsible to make sure your life is everything you think it should be. If you want it, go earn it.

One of the reasons that we have the ability to earn our futures is the willing sacrifice of some ordinary men and women who stood up to fight for something better than whatever someone told them they could have. Be one of those people. Fight for something better. Don't just curl in on yourself and trade a few hours for a few bucks and suck your thumb while you bemoan the "fact" that you can't do this or that. Go live! Be! Excel! That's what this country was founded on, and that's what will be required if we are to keep it worth keeping.

Do something great, and the great will join you.

Much love,
LL~

Modesty Begins in the Heart: Part 2

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See Part 1 here.

I have been brought to, God only knows how, blogs written by a couple of lovely ladies who have, in gentle loving-kindness given me much to consider. I say "God only knows" because I wasn't searching for these blogs, but just came across them while web-surfing. I couldn't tell you how I found them, only that God brought me to them because He wanted me to hear His heart in a way that each of them are excellent at communicating.

The two blogs in particular are The Modest Mom (Caroline) and Large Families on Purpose (Erika), though there are also others that have helped me think through these things. Both Caroline and Erika are homeschooling moms with multiple children. I can tell you from reading their blogs that they each love the Lord, and their hearts are all about their families, and the women that they can love and serve through their writing.

The thing that struck me about these two beautiful women was that, while they have strong, unwavering, unshakable beliefs, they are so loving and kind that they present their beliefs in ways that make you want to hug them and know them better, not in such a way that you want to punch them in their respective noses. That is, in my experience with "church people" over the years, a unique grace, and one that I hope someday will be true of me. These women are living examples of that old saying about tact. You know the one. Tact is getting your point across without stabbing someone with it.

I know, as I read their blogs, that no one will ever convince Erika or Caroline to change their minds on something that God has taught them. I also know that, when either of them is confronted by people who have convictions opinions that are contradictory to what God teaches in His word and through His spirit, that she will love that person well, and instruct her in righteousness with grace. I know this, because I've read it. You can hear their hearts in their words. Modesty's not just a rule they live by, it's an outpouring of their love for God and their desire to live as God's woman, regardless of what others may or may not think.

The reason I'm talking about that here is that it is foundational to what modesty is all about. As C.J. Mahaney discusses it, modesty is about three things: the attitude, the appearance, and the allegiance of the modest woman. A woman who is truly modest, is modest in her heart first, due to the transforming effect of the gospel. This affects her appearance, and it conveys her allegiance. What Caroline and Erika write on their blogs is evidence of this transforming effect. Their hearts, their attitudes, and their allegiance are all evident, and the love they share is poured out visibly in their modesty of dress and appearance.

Caroline from The Modest Mom and Amy from Raising Arrows did a series called She Wears Skirts that bounced back and forth between their blogs. The series talks about why they wear skirts, and not pants. It talks about the convictions that God had given them regarding the modesty of their appearance, and it goes into much more detail than I will here, about why they believe it's more modest and less distracting, more feminine and less lust-provoking to wear skirts.

The bottom line of these ladies' personal dress codes? They are motivated by love. They want to love their Christian brothers well, by not distracting them from what God has for them to do, and by not inspiring in them anything that would cause them to fight a battle with sin and lust.

As I began to say in the first part of this series, I have been realizing that my personal clothing choices are evidence of the state of my heart, and that has become a matter of great concern to me. I'll tell you this, it's hard to look attractive, and be modestly dressed, when you're busty. Even if the rest of me is appropriately attired, sheer volume in the chest area can be an issue. It's difficult to find shirts or dresses that fit properly in the chest and don't look like a sack of potatoes on the rest of me. I'm growing resigned to the fact that I fare better wearing skirts and blouses/shirts than dresses, in most cases, and many times more than one layer on top.

It's tough, for someone who is as warm-natured as I am, to wear multiple layers in the summer without overheating. I've learned that certain fabrics are more comfortable than others, and that tighter layers are often less breathable. Nobody wants to sweat all the time. Want to know something funny? I've found that wearing sleeveless or strappy shirts doesn't create as much of a wicking effect as wearing a couple of layers. I actually sweat less, and look (and feel) fresher if I'm wearing a shirt with sleeves, and more so with a cami or tank under it. All that moisture gets absorbed and dissipates faster. I don't know how it works, but it does.

My personal opinion on this is that when I make modesty a deciding factor in what I choose to wear, God honors that, and He takes care of my comfort, too. He knows when I'm doing right, when my heart is right, and He honors it. If it wasn't important, it wouldn't be addressed in the Bible. If it's important to God, then it should be important to me. If I seek always to please my heavenly Father, then why not do something He's already said is pleasing to Him?

Let's look at a little bit of Mahaney's sermon, taken from 1Timothy, chapter 2:

The 'women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel.' That would be her appearance. And her attitude is emphasized... 'with modesty and self-control.' All respectable apparel is the fruit of a godly heart. Ladies, your wardrobe is a public statement of your personal and private motivation. And if you profess godliness, your motivation is to be distinct from our culture... It is to be motivated by modesty and self-control... 

A modest heart always precedes modest dress. Modesty is humility expressed in dress, a desire to serve others, particularly men, and not promote or provoke sensuality or lust. Modesty, self-control... Moderation for the purpose of purity...

John MacArthur has written, 'How does a woman discern the sometimes fine line between proper dress and dressing to be the center of attention? The answer starts in the intent of the heart. A woman should examine her motives and goals for the way she dresses. Is her intent to show the grace and beauty of womanhood? Is it to reveal a humble heart devoted to worshiping God? Or is it to call attention to herself and flaunt her beauty, or worse, to attempt to allure men sexually? A woman who focuses on worshiping God will consider carefully how she is dressed, because her heart will dictate her wardrobe and appearance.'

Whose attention do you desire, and whose approval do you crave?...

Is your wardrobe modest, evidencing self-control and respectable apparel? Every outfit, no exceptions?

...what is to be noticeable about a woman professing godliness is not her wardrobe, but her good works. There is to be this observable lifestyle of serving others. That is the appropriate... godly adornment for women who profess to be Christians. That is, in effect, the transforming effect of the gospel...

What is most eye catching about you-- your clothing, or your character?

See, Paul isn't simply advocating modesty in dress. He is insisting that more time be devoted, more energy be devoted to spiritual adornment in the form of good works. And he is warning about excessive attention devoted to appearance to the neglect of good works. 

Please, please do not misinterpret. Do not misunderstand. Do not misapply this message. Paul is not a conservative... This isn't some general appeal for morality. This, modesty, it is about the gospel... That is the transforming effect of the gospel. Modest hearts, respectable apparel, good works. The woman who loves the Savior avoids immodesty because she doesn't want at any time to distract from or reflect poorly upon the gospel.

That is the godly woman's concern-- that her attitude and her appearance reveal her allegiance to this Savior who was her substitute and provided her the ransom from her sin. And so, there is to be no contradiction between her profession of godliness and her practice of godliness. 

~Excerpted from "The Soul of Modesty"

C.J. Mahaney

29 January 2008 

Moderation for the purpose of purity. The fruit of a godly heart. A public statement of my personal and private motivation. Humility expressed in dress. There is to be no contradiction between my profession of godliness and my practice of godliness.

I can tell you, when I've ever thought about modesty, before now-- in all those high school conversations, in all the teaching I've heard-- it's always been about rules. It's always been about meeting some standard, measured in inches. Inches of length on skirts or shorts. Inches from the collarbone on the necklines of blouses, and heaven forfend you should even consider a halter top. Those are OUT. (Funny how some halter tops are more modest than some blouses with sleeves or tank-tops with the required one-inch width straps.)

1 Timothy 1:9 says that "the law is not made for a righteous person, but for the lawless and insubordinate." In all those debates about the letter of the law versus the spirit of the law, we somehow missed this point. Modesty of dress is outward evidence of the state of our hearts. Immodesty is an expression of arrogance. Modesty is an expression of humility and love. It's not about the rules defining modesty as certain length or width. It's about being humble and loving, as Jesus is.

As I continue to pursue holiness, as the Holy Spirit brings to mind things that He wants me to address, I pray for humility. Pride has always been an issue for me. I believe it's the most ubiquitous and insidious of sins for all of us. It's what Lucifer embraced and got him kicked out of God's presence, and it was there in the garden of Eden. It's the seed of nearly every kind of sin I can imagine. As God continues to work in me to purge me of this, I have to keep addressing different areas. Now, modesty is the main one that God's working on in me.

I put a yellow sticky note in my closet where I can see it each time I dress. It says, "Immodesty is an expression of arrogance." I pray, when I see it, or when I think of it, that God would kill the root of pride in my heart. That He would overcome my arrogance and give me humility. I try to dress in ways that reflect the character that God is developing in me. I don't always succeed completely, but I'm learning as I go. God is faithful to teach me, each day. He is producing holiness, His holiness, in me. I pray that He would make me pure so that I can bring glory to His name.

Much love,
LL~

"This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our savior who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth... that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing, but which is proper for women professing godliness, with good works."  ~1Timothy 2:3-4, 9-10 (NKJV)~

Modesty Begins in the Heart: Part 1

(Created here)

I just finished taking 5 pages of notes on the sermon "The Soul of Modesty" by Pastor C.J. Mahaney (sermon audio and transcript available at the link), which is excerpted in the video I embedded in this post. (Video found, courtesy of The Modest Mom.) I hadn't realized that the link to the entire sermon was in the description on the video's youtube page. I'm SO glad I found it and was able to hear the entire sermon.

I grew up in a Christian home. My parents sent my brother and I to Christian schools. We were at church every time the door opened. We learned to volunteer, to serve, to have manners, and to live differently than those around us. 

I developed early, probably linked to my Polycystic Ovarian Disease. I was wearing a bra (not a training bra, mind you, the real thing) by third grade. I remember wearing a sun dress to my brother's baseball game one evening, right after getting bras. My mom looked at me, at the field, and said, "How come you're not wearing your new bra?" My response was, "I could see it through my dress." The dress was pretty, and girly, soft sunshine yellow and the front of it had white eyelet lace on it. She replied that if I could see my bra through the dress, then it was also possible to see my body through my dress. I think that was the first time that modesty, in an adult body sense ever dawned on my brain. 

Source

At some point around the time of junior high, I suppose, I became aware more fully of the issue. My parents were always careful with my appearance. They made sure what I wore was modest, and I vaguely recall that being something discussed with clothing choices. 

In High School, I remember conversations about legalism in relation to modesty. Whole class periods were sometimes devoted to "discussions"  about the spirit of the law versus the letter of the law, legalism, what an appropriate standard should take into consideration, exceptions to the rules, etc. Sometimes I wonder what the teachers were thinking, letting this stuff rage on and never addressing the heart of the issue.

Our school had a policy that skirts (which were worn every day) must touch the floor when you kneel. Another school had a policy of 3" longer than fingertip length (which I thought was really odd, because especially during puberty when bodies are changing, arm-length doesn't always change at the same speed as height & leg-length...). Kneeling-length made sense to me. The rule even applied to our cheerleading skirts (which were actually skorts), and some people tried to play the "That's dangerous! They'll get tangled up when they do stunts!" card. (Which is ludicrous, I might add. We were never endangered by the length of our uniforms. Besides, if a stunt couldn't be done safely, we wouldn't have been permitted to do it.)

Having slogged our way through these murky waters, and having conformed to the touches-the-floor-while-kneeling standard, I (and probably most of the girls from my school) thought I had a pretty basic understanding of modesty. Got it. I'm good. I know it when I see it. No, really. That is, until God started bringing it to my attention, just this year.

I'm thirty-two years old. I'm a very visually-stimulated person. I have to be very cautious with shows that I watch, pictures I see, books I read, because I get mental images in my mind that I can't get rid of. 

Source

That creepy scene from that movie? Yeah, it may not give me a nightmare tonight, but 6 years from now, I might have one. It stays in there. I've learned that if the preview is creepy or seems dark or twisted, it's better that I don't see it at all. I've learned that it's safer for me to avert my eyes when I see a guy jogging down the street shirtless, because I don't ever want to compare my husband to him, or have that image of him pop up at a time when my focus should be on something else. I've learned that my mind will construct images to go with things I read, so I need to restrict my reading habits to things that are going to give me good mental images, not sinful ones.

In this way, my brain is wired much more like a man's than like most women's. Part of that is probably due to the over-production of testosterone and androgen in a woman with polycystic ovaries, but whatever the cause, the end result is the same. It makes me more aware of what men deal with on a daily basis. So I've become very protective of my mind and my imagination over the last few years. 

Yet, I still thought I didn't have any misunderstandings about modesty, even while wearing clothing that showcased my cleavage, my hourglass shape, or was simply too tight. God has been systematically revealing to me, over recent months, that the things I know I have to guard my mind from and avoid are the same things that I have exposed my brothers in Christ to, and that they must guard their minds, eyes, and hearts from me. Whoa. 

Stay tuned for Part 2.

Much love,

LL~

My Best Friend(s): Mumsy

Mumsy by our pool in Raymore

Yes, I really do call her Mumsy. Or, occasionally, Momma. Mumsy can be abbreviated Mmz, but if your phone (or other tech gadget) has the feature where it announces who is calling, or a voice recognition feature, it will NOT, I repeat NOT recognize MMZ as "Mumsy," just in case you were wondering. A few phones back, I had the caller announcement feature turned on, and it always said, "Incoming call from M. M. Z." She calls me "Tootsie" which gets abbreviated as 2tz. Aren't we cute?

{Random sidenote: a few weeks ago, I had my phone on the car dock while driving and somehow it decided it was going to read incoming text messages to me. My husband responded to my most recent message (sent before driving, by the way) with "Kk" and it sounded like it was clearing its throat. It was hilarious! "Message from Husband: (gagging sound). Say 'repeat' to repeat." Of COURSE I repeated it. Half a dozen times. "(gagging sound)" "Repeat!" "(gagging sound)" "Repeat!"...}

I just got off the phone with her and was thinking about how I needed to write this post. Part of the trouble I've had is deciding where to begin on the posts about each of my parents. There's just so much to say, and it's so personal, and important, and heart-felt. How do you begin to say all that a parent really means? Where do I start? Childhood? Now? Parenting? Friendship? What aspect do I feature first, and how do I begin to cover all that I mean to say?

All that, and a snappy dress-er, too!

Last night I finished a book (shocker) called "Managers of Their Homes" by Steven and Teri Maxwell. I was telling my Mumsy about it, and after we hung up, I started getting a little teary-eyed. You see, she has always been the very best example of what godly womanhood looks like. I don't think I've ever heard anyone speak badly of her, or even neutrally of her, for that matter. She is a woman of honor and grace, kindness and gentility, an embodiment of the fruits of the Spirit, if ever I've met one. I've never known a person, male or female, who was as caring and considerate as my mother. If I've ever needed an example, a word of encouragement, good advice, or listening ear, she's the one who could provide each of those things best.

I may have mentioned previously that when I got married last year, I had high expectations of myself. Part of the reason for that is due to the fact that this beautiful lady has shown me all my life that it's possible to have an organized, clean home, deliberate relationships, be calm, cool, and collected, yet warm, open, and inviting, and look good doing it. Let's just say that I found out that takes practice. Lots, and lots, and lots, and LOTS of practice. I'm getting there, little by little, and she's my own personal cheerleading squad, encouraging from the sidelines, handing out compliments, encouragement, and even the occasional (much-needed, usually) kick in the pants. *Smile*

Momma visiting me for my birthday,
my semester in Europe.
Zurich, CH airport.

My mom was amazing when I was a kid. She managed our home with aplomb, baking homemade bread on a weekly basis, keeping up with countless correspondents, volunteering in the church, and creating such a welcoming environment that we seldom went to friends' houses. They all wanted to come to ours! She taught me songs like "Ferdinand the Bull" and "Summertime" (from Porgy & Bess), Bible verses and lessons, and poems that taught me more about who she was and how I want to be than she might ever know.

"I have wept through the night

For the shortness of  sight

That to somebody's need made me blind,

But I never have yet

Felt a twinge of regret

For being a little too kind."

No wonder no one has anything bad to say about her! What mean thing can you say about someone whose whole mission in life is always to be a little kinder to everyone around them?

And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you. ~Ephesians 4:32, NKJV~

There was this one time that she was trying to get us to read this book ("Enthusiasm Makes the Difference," by Norman Vincent Peale) together as a family. I don't remember where she got it, or why she wanted to read it to us, but it, for whatever reason, wasn't something we wanted to read. I still remember the little cheerleading cheer she used to do around the house, trying to get us excited to read this book. I also still remember some of the places we used to hide that book from her. :) When I called her to ask if that was the right book, she said, "Yes, why? Would you like me to send it to you?"

Mumsy, my sister, and I were
bridesmaids in my sister's wedding.
August 2005

Back to the Managers of Their Homes book... This book was written for homeschooling families, to help them develop a livable, functional schedule when there are many people doing many things in what is sometimes a very small space. It is an EXCELLENT book. I actually bought two, one for me, and one for a gift for someone else. It's going on my favorites list.

So I was telling Mumsy about this book that I had just finished, and how excellent I thought it was. I sat there and read her a few of the parts I had underlined, over the phone, and then told her how well I felt it fit in with how she had taught me to order my homemaking to-do items.

I'll probably write a whole post on this later, but when I was in elementary school, Mumsy taught me to keep track of the things I need to get done, using an index card file. I'm naturally a "creative" type individual. (Yes, in quotation marks.) In other words, I don't naturally fall on the organized-and-squared-away side of things. That doesn't mean that I don't have order around me, just that my version of "order" may not appear orderly to any outside observer.

I, like my father, tend to live in piles. They drive me bonkers, but that's my tendency. My mother, on the other hand, lives by lists. She's a very squared away individual, but she's so warm that it's not a condescending form of order. (My mind goes to Martha Stewart, here.) When I got married, she (Mumsy, not Martha) spent a whole day with me helping me prepare and organize a new index card file, because I asked her to. I knew that if she could do it so well for so many years, that she could help me do it, too. She did.

Correspondent Extraordinaire!

This is the woman who remembers to send greeting cards for all occasions to most of the people she's met in her life. Birthdays, Anniversaries, Condolences, Easter, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick's Day, Tuesdays-- all are worthy of cards. Anytime she travels anywhere, the kids and grandkids get postcards. She travels often, though not usually very far.

I have no idea how much she spends on postage and cards each year, but I'm betting it's its own line item in my parents' budget. She taught me her secrets to that, too. Now, my husband's side of the family are surprised to have begun receiving mementos and cards as times and seasons pass. It's something he says I do well. I know better. It's something I wouldn't think to do at all, but my Mumsy taught me to make others in my life a priority.

So, the woman who has told me regularly for the last however many years that I'm her hero, is really mine. If the subject has ever come up in conversation, you've probably heard me say, "I hope that someday I can be half the woman that my mom is." And it's true. She's the truest of friends, the noblest of mothers, the most honorable of women, the most steadfast of prayer warriors, and the humblest of Christ-followers. When I look at her, I see all I want to be, the goodness, the honesty, the love, the kindness, the faithfulness, the (yes) enthusiasm, the organization, the intentionality, the awareness, the loyalty, the humor, the delight, the dignity, the hilarity, the joy... The list goes on and on. This is the woman I am blessed, beyond belief, to call my Mumsy. My Best Friend.

Much love,
2tz~

Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. The things which you learned and received and heard and saw in me, these do, and the God of peace will be with you. 

~Philippians 4:8-9, NKJV, Mumsy's favorite passage~

An Unpleasant Internal Discovery

Keys, phone, purse, shoes, drink...
What am I forgetting?

I feel like I need to put this up here as a means of accountability. I have discovered that I get tense and anxious when I'm preparing to leave the house, and any interruption, no matter how innocuous can send me into irritation mode. I don't like that about me, and since it has come to my attention, I feel it's something on which I need to work. However, I don't really know how to go about working on that.

I'm not normally prone to anxiety, so this is something that seems really out of character for me, and I'm somewhat confounded by it. If you have a suggestion, please put it in the comments. I'd love some input on how to keep my attitude right under those circumstances.

I know that as we start having children and moving into other, more complex phases of life, this isn't going to get easier. Being responsible for more people will only be more difficult, unless I get this figured out and can have my preparations and the attitude that goes with them in submission to the God of love Who lives in me. Let's face it, irritation and anxiety don't make me very loving or kind.

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

~Ephesians 4:32 (KJV, as I memorized it when I was a little girl)~

I suppose the knowledge of this has been gradually increasing in my mind for some time. Our last weekend trip (two weekends ago), I became conscious of my souring thoughts as I was developing a tension headache while packing.

Part of this has been part of my packing process for some time. For one thing, until we got married, the vast majority of my travel was solo, and I was responsible for every portion of the trip. When you know that the degree to which you can rely on others, either in transit or while at your destination, is minimal, if you're like me, the greater degree of responsibility you take upon yourself. Responsibility = control freak. Think of everything, then check twice to make sure you've covered every potential possibility. Control = stress.

The other part of that is new. I'm not packing just for me, anymore. Now, I pack for us. Since my husband packs light, and since the luggage is going to carry more of my stuff than his, he gives me what he needs to pack, and I include it in my packing. Oh, whee.* Since I'm the nerd, I get to do all of the list-type activity. What do we need? Where will we be? Did we remember that we'll need this? Did I pack it in a way that makes sense? Can we get to things in order of how we'll need them? There's no throwing stuff in the suitcase and going. A decade-plus of single-hood has drummed any spontaneity out of me, when it comes to travel. Sigh.

Packing is only part of the issue, though, because I have become more and more aware of this building tension when I leave the house for other reasons, too. If any measure of preparation is required (i.e. putting on makeup, dressing up, fixing hair, etc.), or if an appointment is set and I have to be somewhere at a certain time, I find myself growing more and more tense, especially if both of those criteria are in effect. If I'm behind my self-imposed schedule for an on-time departure, you can just up the exponent on my internal tension by a notch or two.

The door I have to get through...

On the other hand, I've gotten much more relaxed about leaving my house for things like errand running that don't have a set time frame or level of expectation. I've gotten to the point that I don't worry about putting on makeup or even taking my purse (gasp!). I grab my wallet, phone, keys, shoes, and go! (I used to never go a day without makeup, but now I have fewer days with it than without. Odd, how that has changed with my spiritual development. I don't feel like I need my mask, anymore.)

This realization about my anxiety level hit me full in the face yesterday. I had a dentist appointment. Several things weren't going as planned in the pre-prep time of the morning. I was in a fairly neutral mood, though.

I left my desk a little later than planned, so I was rushing to put on my makeup and fix my hair to look appropriately put-together for a professional environment. In that last 10 minutes, my desk phone rang, emails came in (cue the computer ding), three text messages came in on my cell phone (cue the Star Trek Communicator bleep), and then my cell phone rang (my favorite, and my husband's exclusive ringtone -- Josh Turner's "Soulmate")-- all of which I forced myself to ignore in favor of finishing the process of getting out the door. With each noise, my level of tension, irritation, and anxiety shot up.

Is it just me, or
does my attitude stink?

As I was running out the door to get in the car, I called my husband back, in what had become an officially bad mood. My attitude stank. I had lost my grip on it, and by the time I realized it and apologized to him, I was really mystified. How did I get from neutral to bad mood in such a short time, without noticing? How did I lose my grip to the point that I was unkind to my amazingly caring husband whom I love and who deserves only my very best?

The thought sank in that I was being unreasonable, that my level of anxiety was way too high and entirely unnecessary. As I was snapping at him, I recognized it and still couldn't grab it back and shove that attitude away. Simultaneously, I realized how thankful I am for him and how much I love him. No control, though. I was past the point of being able to stop and breathe and be kind, and I still don't know how I got to that point. To make it even worse, he hadn't received my "good morning" text message, so he was just calling to check on me and make sure I was alright. I was repaying his kindness and concern with an outpouring of stinky attitude. Great.

So, how do I prevent this kind of bad attitude from sneaking up on me? I don't know how I got there to begin with, so how do I keep from getting there again?? Is there an area of your conduct that has you mystified and more than a little embarrassed? What do you intend to do about it?

Much love,
LL~

*I don't actually mind packing for both of us. In fact, it gives me an opportunity to be thankful for the husband God has given me. It just is one more thing to feel responsible for doing well, and my tension increases, along with my gratitude. I'd like to make that relationship inverse-- have the tension decrease with the increase of gratitude.

PCOS Part 2: Treatment

Source.

This is the second post in a series. Here is the link to Part 1.

It is estimated that 5 to 10% of women who are of child bearing age have PCOS. (Source) That means that if you don't have PCOS, you probably know someone who does, or multiple somebodies. Here are some of the normal symptoms (source, source, source, and I'm stopping there...) :

• Infrequent, irregular, or absent menstrual cycles
• Multiple small cysts on the ovaries, and sometimes elsewhere
• Pelvic pain
• Hormonal imbalance
• Anxiety or depression
• Fatigue
• Mood Swings
• Migraines
• Infertility due to irregular or absent ovulation
• Increased hair growth on face, neck, stomach, back, hands, and feet
• Acne, oily skin, dandruff - often cystic acne
• Weight gain/obesity - normally around the waist
• Type II diabetes
• High cholesterol
• High blood pressure
• Thinning hair
• Skin tags - usually on neck or armpit
• Dark or thick skin located on the neck, arms, thighs, or breasts
• Sleep apnea
• Uterine (or other reproductive) cancer

If you don't have PCOS and know someone who does, read through that list once in awhile, then become a little more understanding, should she be fighting the ovarian demons, on some days.

Source.

I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Disease in November 2006, at my own request. I had been suffering from symptoms since my early-onset puberty, but no one had bothered to tell me that these symptoms weren't normal, nor had any attempt been made to pinpoint their cause. As my previous post relates, I took the information to the doctor, then asked her to determine if this was my diagnosis. It was.

The doctor was just as laid back about my treatment plan as she was about my diagnosis, so I basically told her what I had learned was the common treatment, and she wrote the prescriptions. Common for the treatment of PCOS is the diabetes medication metformin (generic of Glucophage), combined with a birth control pill of the doctor's choosing (or one the patient tolerates). I was prescribed 500 mg, twice daily, of metformin, and a birth control pill that was strong enough to regulate my periods. No one ever discussed this with me, not the doctor then. Not any of the doctors I've seen since then, until the doctor I have now.

As I mentioned in my last Dukan Diet post, I went to the doctor after some episodes of low-blood sugar, which had been caused by the combination of the low-carb diet and my metformin. I am neither diabetic, nor insulin-resistant. Since my 20+ pound weight loss, my body didn't need as much of the metformin. Yahoo! I'm on my way to being med-free!

Anywhere I have looked for information (an example) about PCOS, I have seen that there is no medically-proven "cure" for PCOS. There are varying schools of thought about its treatment, but no one says that you can be cured of it. What you see, over and over, though, is that the better your overall health and well-being, the more the symptoms recede. One study I recently read about said that as little as 5% weight loss could contribute to the significant lessening of symptoms. Keys to living with PCOS are acquiring and maintaining a healthy weight, exercising regularly, eating healthfully, and not smoking. All, pretty much common sense, right?

Possible Cures

Here's something else. There are some health professionals that believe there are 2 ways to get rid of PCOS. One, is to go through menopause, which changes your hormonal balance and ceases the menstrual cycle that adds to the cyclical nature of the illness. The other thing that "cures" PCOS in some instances, is a full-term pregnancy. (I doubt you'd find that listed as a "cure" anywhere, per se, though. I have only seen it mentioned in a few places.) In some cases, women who suffer from PCOS find that the hormone slate gets wiped clean by pregnancy, and they have a system reset. Some women fail to re-develop the same issues when their post-pregnancy hormone levels change.

Sadly enough, though, that doesn't mean that getting pregnant fixes everything. Women with PCOS may be twice to up to 5 times more likely to miscarry than the average population (depending on source, and definition), and PCOS causes infertility in some women.

American Pregnancy Association states that "Studies reveal that anywhere from 10-25% of all clinically recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage." I'm seeing 45% rate of miscarriage in PCOS women commonly quoted, but I'm not finding the source of that percentage anywhere. Wikipedia says 30-50% (source). I've seen people "quoting" that the rate could be as low as 9% if metformin is continued through the first trimester, but I can't find the source of that, either. Wikipedia cites a two-thirds lowered risk with use of metformin (source), but goes on to say that "a 2006 review of metformin treatment in pregnancy found insufficient evidence of safety, however, and did not recommend routine treatment with the drug." (source)

A list of common treatments for PCOS (source, source, source, and I'm stopping there):

• Lose weight, eat healthfully, exercise regularly 
• Quit smoking
• Medication to lower insulin, combined with a fertility drug (if trying to conceive) or a birth control pill
• Hormone therapy, either with a birth control pill or other medications or injections
• Surgery such as ovarian drilling or an ovarian wedge resection (from what I can tell, neither is practiced regularly-- mostly used as a last-resort attempt when infertility is a factor)

Contrary to what you may have heard, even though you may not die from PCOS per se, you can die from what it causes. Cancer, heart disease, diabetes, etc., and when you add in the miscarriage rate? Most of the time PCOS is a pain. Sometimes, it's deadly. 

Who do you know that might benefit from a little more kindness, gentleness, and understanding?

My next post on this topic will be about living with PCOS.

Much love,
LL~

My Dukan Diet: My Status and Intermediate Results

This is the third post in an ongoing series, and it intersects with the series on PCOS:

1. My Dukan Diet: History
2. My Dukan Diet: the Process

*******************************************************************
Something I'm happy to say: this diet process seems to work for me. Nothing else has. Thank you, my dear friend (Full Time Wife), for introducing me to the Dukan Diet.

I am in the process of losing 45 lbs. This is a picture of one pound of fat. Gross, eh? When I reach my goal, I will be at a weight I haven't been since high school. I think that's the first time I've admitted that to myself, and it's out here on the world wide internets for y'all to read. Typing this paragraph gave me a whole surge of negative thoughts, to which I won't give voice.

Instead, some things I should remind myself:

• I have PCOS, which adversely affects most of my metabolic and hormonal functions. 
• Not knowing I had PCOS until 2006, and then not knowing what to do about the weight gain associated with it after my diagnosis made it unreasonable for me to think I should have been able to do something productive about it. I tried and failed, because I didn't have all the facts. 
• Calorie counting has not worked for me. I have proven this over, and over, and over again. Strict adherence to a number of calories does not work with my wounded metabolism.
• Structured diets have not worked for me. I have proven this over and over. 
• Exercise only works for me up to a point. I am big-boned. I am muscular. I need to not delude myself into thinking I can look like I have a different musculo-skeletal structure. My doctor confirms this.
• The weight I am working toward is healthy for my height and structure, and it is reasonable to believe that, given the correct plan and execution, I can attain it and keep it. My doctor helped me set this goal. 
• Healthy is the goal. 

I started the Dukan Diet in January.  I immediately began to see results, and in the first 3 months, dropped 22 pounds. I lost 22 lbs, at a rate of between 1.5 to 3 lbs per week, which is considered healthy weight loss. Now, this is not fast weight loss, nor was it easy. It was VERY simple, though. You just eat unrestricted quantities of protein or protein + vegetables (albeit specific proteins and vegetables, and depending on the day). I can do "unrestricted quantities" of good food. It does, however, get very boring. Like I said, not EASY, but simple.  

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech to a halt. The not-easy part is what hit me as I was starting month 4, mid-April. I hit a plateau, because I had arrived at a weight range I occupied successfully and happily for several years. My body is happy there. This is where my clothes fit. Not just the stretchy ones I bum around in-- the tailored ones I haven't even tried to wear in the last 3 years or so, since I've been a permanent telecommuter. It stopped being simple, because it was easier to be in that comfortable place than it was to keep pushing. At this point, several things happened at once.

• I began to doubt myself. I doubted that I really needed to lose any more. After all, that would mean replacing my wardrobe, and I absolutely loathe shopping for clothes.  
• I didn't have any energy. (More on this in a minute..)
• I was TIRED of dieting all the time, missing out on date night dinners with my husband because it was too expensive and depressing to try to go out and get all meat (at some point, I'll probably say more about this). Eating at home is wonderful, but those special dinners mean something to me.
• My darling husband was getting tired of me being tired of it all. 
• We went on a trip, and I just didn't have the energy or time to prepare everything I needed for my diet before we left, so I took the weekend off, while we traveled.
• My husband told me, on our trip, as we sipped the first glass of wine we'd had together in 4 months, how much he had missed that-- the feeling of sitting together, sipping wine, talking, and being on a date. It broke me. He has always said that he doesn't think I need to lose any weight, and only supports me doing what's healthy. 

When we got home, I struggled for a couple of weeks and managed to squeak out three more pounds of weight loss, so that I could hit the 25 pound mark, and we could enjoy our reward dinner together. It was really hard. For the first time, since starting this diet in January, it was really hard.

One night, I bottomed out. I felt lousy, and felt almost comatose by the time we finally ate something. I had had a good workout that morning, and had gone for a walk with a friend. I hadn't eaten much. It was a little scary to feel that low energy. The next day, I still didn't feel well. I went to a walk-in clinic. The doctor said my blood sugar was pretty low, and that I needed to follow-up with my primary care physician and in the mean time, eat every couple of hours.

Part of the standard treatment for PCOS, as I will be explaining in my next post in that series, is the prescription of a diabetes medication. It has a side benefit of helping with some of the metabolic and hormone shifts that occur in the average PCO woman. I had never had any trouble with blood sugar. I'm not diabetic (PCOS causes diabetes). I'm not insulin resistant (common in PCO women), either. So one of the methods of treating the disease was exposing me to a medication that helps control the rate at which sugar hits my blood stream. When you're not taking in any foods that contain sugar, any carbs (except the 2 TBS/day) which convert to sugar, any alcohol which acts like sugar, etc., and you're not someone who has trouble with sugar-- taking a pill that slows down your sugar metabolism under those circumstances can have an adverse effect. I went to the doctor.

My doctor's response to all of this was to cut my medication in half. Getting off medication is one of the reasons I'm losing weight. I want to be healthy. Healthy, and unmedicated. She did some blood tests on me, and she helped me evaluate and re-set my weight loss goal. She said that 10 pounds lighter than I originally planned was definitely achievable, and that it would be healthy for me. She also said that I shouldn't attempt to go lower than that, because of my bone and muscle structure. She said not to stop this diet, because it's working with my body, instead of against it. She said that we would need to reevaluate my medication as I continued losing weight, but that she was "really proud of me" for all I'm doing to get my health in order.

Much love,
LL~



Next installment of this series, coming soon!