Good day – down to 367.8! That’s about 11.8 pounds this week, which makes up for gaining a couple last week.
It’s becoming more and more obvious that I’ve got to consider some form of either counseling, life coaching, or somesuch to get a few things straightened out. Such as identifying the reasons I run to things like food for comfort, stress relief, etc. Problem is, I’ve got a little baggage in my past that makes it a difficult concept for me to buy into.
First, being a fundamental Baptist boy, counseling says that I just must not be trusting the Lord enough. After all, if Christ is sufficient for every need in my life, then I just must be this week piece of work that is so spiritually inmature that I just can’t see that there is no need for anything outside of Jesus. And, while I do believe that there are truths in that line of thinking, I also think that our minds are very complex – we often simply can’t see the reasons for the behaviors that we do. So, perhaps God can use an outside voice to help me see what is going on inside.
Second, like many of us, I have a lot of junk in my trunk – lots of things that I’d rather not have brought out and examined in the light. The Lord knows what those things are, and I’d rather keep them between Him and me. But, perhaps some of those issues will explain the eating thing.
Finally, the hardest one… When I was around 8 or 9 years old, the folks at my school simply didn’t know what to make of me. They didn’t know if I had mental impairment, was just totally psycho, or just a little fruity. Remember, this was 1968-1969, so children who didn’t fit into the standard mold of what children ought to be, think, and do were considered defective in some area or another. So, I got to spend time at the Psycho Ed clinic at CMU, where each week a well-meaning man would ask me questions on end, and never really accomplish anything. Looking back, we now guess that today I would have been classified “gifted” and channeled into directions to work with my natural inclinations, rather than wondering if my elevator went all the way to the penthouse. (My 5th grade teacher was totally convinced that I was retarded, until they gave me an IQ test. I don’t remember what number they stopped counting at – just that afterward I was transferred to another class with a teacher whom I LOVED and who helped me more in that year than in all my school days previous.) So, counseling means to me endless hours of meaningless questions which accomplish nothing. Again, that was a long time ago, but it’s hard to erase some childhood concepts.
So, I’m pondering this. A lot. In the meantime, things are going along. My knees, after the injections, feel great, so it’s been fun taking stairs at a good pace and finding excuses to walk around. And, we now know the target for knee replacement – 100 more pounds. That’s worth focusing on, so I shall. 🙂
Thanks for your patience. I try not to make this a “Cal lets fly with all kinds of personal and disgusting information” too often, but once in a while, you just gotta let it happen. Looking forward to worship on Sunday, and for those of you reading from First Cov, we might wanna put the extra-heavy staging under the bass player this week, ’cause if my knees are still feeling good Sunday, I’ll be movin’ and groovin’! 🙂