She's got the moves like Jagger

We are spirit, soul and body--three-part beings. One of my dreams involves modeling myself after those who excel in each of these three areas of our being. What's interesting (and rather comical) is that my role models in each sphere are so different and so far removed from each other.

 In spirit, I have but one star at which I stare fixedly--Jesus Christ. He IS the Holy Spirit! (When Jesus spoke of sending the Holy Spirit in John 14:18, He used first person: "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.")

In soul, I have always longed to be like Miss Melanie Hamilton in "Gone With the Wind." What a beautifully unselfish and kind woman she was--an absolute paragon of virtue with a humility and grace that we all should aspire to. Problem is that I have always been natured more like Scarlett O'Hara as far as being impulsive and high-spirited. Miss Melly was ever-gentle and calm. (Let's hear a collective sigh that that will probably NEVER be me, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?!)

When it comes to body, prepare to be amazed. I decided tonight as I watched the Super Bowl halftime show that I wouldn't mind looking like Madonna as far as fitness and agelessness. If we were talking about spirit and soul, she would be the lowest of low on my list of whom I would like to model myself after. But when it comes to the fleshly realm--doggone, that woman looks good.

It used to be that a woman in her mid-50s was seen stereotypically as dumpy, old, dressed in grandma's polyester pantsuit with gray hair. (Disclaimer: there's nothing wrong with polyester or gray hair.) But Madonna's chiseled limbs and cut abs would make most 20-year-olds jealous. As she sang with Nicki Minaj who is nearly 25 years younger than her, Madonna was by far the better looking one as far as fitness goes.

Madonna and child

So yes, although I don't care much for Madonna, I wouldn't mind being in that physical shape. Let's face the hard, cruel facts: if I tried to do some of her moves, I'd be bedridden or in traction.

And that Jillian Michaels? She's on my list, too. The woman is 37 and in the shape of a 16-year-old. I wanna go there. Yes, I do.

This is coming from a woman whose calves locked up by the time she walked from the Cove Mart to the old Dodson Hotel on Main Street, Walnut Cove, at the MLK March in January. I literally thought I couldn't make it to the destination not even a mile away. Pure old pride got me there--seeing people decades older than me marching blithely past me, watching women pushing baby strollers trucking it on up the hill as I willed my weak legs to take another step.

This has got to stop. If Madonna can do it, so can I. No, I can't afford a personal trainer, but surely I can walk around the block a few times a week or jump on the mini-tramp daily.

Maybe the buddy system is the answer. I need a buddy. Does anyone have Madonna's number? ;)

Vacation ends Monday!

Vacation was fun, but it's DONE!

As the hubster and I headed back toward North Carolina after a 12-day dream trip out West in September 2011, he sighed deeply and patted his "big white belly," as he is fond of calling it, "Well, vacation ends tomorrow." We had been repeating a variation of this line each time we sat down to a sumptuous meal on our trip. It was our justification to indulge just a few more days, with the "end of vacation" and the push toward a healthier diet looming ever nearer.

Once we were home, there was always an excuse to eat more junk. The hubster would flash me his mischievous look and say, "Well, vacation ends tomorrow." This continued through Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's--you know the drill.

Yesterday, he patted my "side meat," as he likes to call it, and said, "Girl, we gotta get healthy!"

I just looked wryly at him and reminded him, "Sunday is Super Bowl."

He grinned like a possum and declared, "Well, vacation ends Monday!"

Let's face it. There is ALWAYS an excuse to eat junk: somebody's birthday, a baby shower, a holiday, a big sporting event. There will ALWAYS be an excuse to eat junk.

 I have some twisted thought process going on in my brain that I've got to eat that double chocolate birthday cake while I can get it, that I might not get homemade peach ice cream ever again, that Reese's peanut butter cups might be discontinued or something. My family jokes that I, who certainly never lived through the Great Depression, have a "depression mentality." (You know--can't waste anything, have to save everything, better eat good food while I can get it.)

But truth is, if there's not peach ice cream next time, there will be chocolate. If there's no double chocolate cake at the next bridal shower, there will be Dewey's sugar cake or something. For all of my life, there has been good food around for special occasions. If I pass on the lemon pound cake today, you can bet your aunt Annie's alligator there will be lemon pound cake again one day.

 It's not that I'm so worried about losing weight, although I have gained a lot of poundage since tying the knot with Superman. I, who weighed 104 when he met me and 114 when he married me and had often weighed in the 90's even after having four kids, am now up to 126 in my heavy winter clothes. (The hubster weighed 128 when I met him; he's up to about 210 after these idyllic years with me--ha ha!)

But weight is not the primary issue. I am, in fact, more worried about being healthy. I am convinced that Daddy was right--we are what we eat. How can I build good, healthy cells with Heath toffee ice cream, Doritos and Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls? We wonder why our society is suffering with more and more cancer, heart disease, arthritis, etc. Perhaps we should examine the SAD facts--SAD being the Standard American Diet.

Today I sat in the First Baptist Church Fellowship Hall for the family lunch after my great-aunt Lola's funeral. As the luscious meal wound to a close, I looked down at my plate with its mound of creamy banana pudding, a generous slice of chocolate chip cookie cake and the biggest piece of German chocolate pecan pie that I could find at the dessert table.

And I exhaled a resigned sigh, thinking to myself, "Vacation is over in two days." And I was actually glad. Let the healthy eating begin!

Here is a video by a doctor that talks about how she reversed her multiple sclerosis by changing her diet. My dream is to do what she did!

Leaving Kansas. . .

If I don't post any more after this initial greeting, please think of me fondly in days to come and mourn my passing. Tonight before he left for his third-shift job, the hubster begged me to start getting into bed earlier and to curb my new blog fascination, but here it is 1:08 a.m. and lo and behold, I'm starting a brand-new blog. (I hope if he sends me to meet my Maker that he remembers I want fireworks at the funeral.)

I already have a blog at Wordpress.com. (Is the mention of a competitor going to get me into trouble with blogspot.com?) That blog is called "Longing For Him" and is expressly for religious purposes; it's a great outlet for me to pour out my longings for my Lord and Savior. I don't want to clutter that one up with my ramblings about daily struggles and victories en route to "living the dream."

SO. . .looks as if I need a new blog, and here it is! I believe that if you write the vision, you have a better chance of achieving it. I hope to be able to use this site to write my dreams and visions for my future, in faith that this will help me accomplish them.

Superman lives!

My oh-so-hot hubster is encouraging me big-time to focus my energies on my biggest dreams. He was thrilled that I quit my super-stressful news editor's job in Sept. 2011. Now he's saying I should even quit the side jobs if it means I will pour myself into answering the calls that nearly tear out my gut when I am disobedient: the call to minister and help bring revival to my hometown and county, the call to disciple and train up my children in the way they should go, and the call to FINALLY write those many books that are begging for me to write them.

For the 1st time ever, I saw a rainbow form--in CO this past summer!

 So yes, I feel a little bit like Dorothy who left the black-and-white realms of Kansas to plop down in that technicolor world over the rainbow. If Dorothy was right, it's the place where dreams really do come true. I am about to find out! Thanks for joining me on this journey!