Momma. I think that's what he'll call me. Although, he's a rather determined, feisty little fella. He may decide that Mom or Mommy or silly face suits him better. Regardless of what he calls me or I call him, he's my little man, my little shadow - the one whose heart beats alongside mine. When I conceived, I was a little shocked. OK, I was a lot shocked, even devastated. I don't like calling him an accident because God doesn't accidentally do anything. Every strand of my life is intricately designed and put into motion by my sweet Lord for my benefit. But sometimes it takes a while for me to wrap my head around it all. I'm human. Just because I know the Lord as my personal Savior doesn't mean that my mind automatically sees the good in all of life's situations. No. Sometimes, I want to scream and kick and question the Lord. And that's OK. He knows I'm human, and He knows that eventually I will see the big picture. And believe me, I know now one of the many reasons He made me Momma.
You see, I've never seen myself as beautiful in the right here and now. In my head, I see the beautiful girl with a wonderful shape that I dream of becoming. So I've worked endlessly at the gym, on the track, doing workout DVDs, Pinterest-ing healthy recipes, trying to "eat clean", turning my nose up to sweets and even wholesome good-for-you foods. I've had a problem.
I, yes I, have dealt with a negative body image for as long as I can remember. When I got to high school, I discovered that if I cut my calories way back and ran every day I would lose weight. So I did. I developed an eating disorder and obsessed over running/working out. It plagued me until college where I realized I had a problem, and I needed to do something about it. But I wasn't serious about it. I still wanted that awesome body and thin figure I saw other girls have without trying. They were so confident. They didn't care if they missed a day at the gym or ate the piece - heck, five pieces - of pizza just because they were craving it. I envied their contentment with themselves. But I was trapped. Trapped in a mindset that abusing my body was good for it and normal human food was poison.
I tried to get out of it. I tried to tell myself that I was crazy and that I was pretty and that I looked just as good as anyone else, but none of it mattered. The image I had in my head would never be the image I saw in the mirror because it wasn't about the image. It was about my heart. And until I asked God to change my heart and let go of the control I thought I had, I would continue to waste my time on this earth being unhappy and discontent with myself. So I prayed that God would help me and I told Him I would sacrifice my control if He would help me out of this pit. And boy, did he want sacrifice.
I didn't realize how hard being a Momma was until Jude was born. I guess no mom actually knows until they go through it. Jude didn't sleep well at all in the beginning. And nursing shifted all the weight of tending to him on my shoulders. It was tough. But I sleepily faced each day as it came - even if there were tears involved. As he got a little older, I learned how to clean my house and still tend to him. But there was no time to workout. Even thirty minutes on the treadmill was a luxury. Which - all them Mommas out there know - it takes a loooooong time before you even feel like lacing up those tennis shoes. Pat yourself on the back Mommas! Because you gave birth! And that is a mind-blowing accomplishment all in itself.
Finally, Jude started to sleep, and I was learning how to better manage my day. I started getting on the treadmill for a few miles three times a week or more. And then I felt it, it was creeping back. That image was even more distorted now - that belly and those thighs! I secretly hoped nursing would take care of all my excess. But it wasn't seeming to help much.
And then one day, as I was sitting on my living room floor halfway through a HIIT workout, it hit me. The more time I spend on myself, the less time and energy and passion I have for raising my child, spending time with my husband, and being used for the Lord. And for what? Right there, in that very sweaty, humbling moment, I surrendered it all. No more me. No more getting on the scale every day to see if it's budged. No more time spent abusing my already tired and worn body just so I can see a better body staring back at me in the mirror. I was ready for contentment. I was ready to shatter the image I yearned for and become the best mom, wife, friend, mentor I could be. I wanted to be used by Him in such a way that others are drawn to Him because of my contentment with the best Me.
I was reading just the other day and found this verse - now my heart beats for it. Colossians 4:17 says,
...take heed to the ministry you have received in the Lord, that you may fulfill it.
When the Lord asked for surrender, I didn't realize the blessing I'd receive in return. Jude is staring at me as I write this. His little fuzzy, white head is bobbing up and down and he's starting to get frustrated because he can't crawl. He and his daddy are my world. And the Lord has placed me in their lives for a purpose: to love them with every part of me. My love for them is hindered until I learn to love Me completely. So I'm learning. And it's a process. I still load the Jillian Michael's DVD in the player every once in a while, and I still love to lace up my running shoes and go for a jog, but I don't allow them to plague my mind any longer. I'm loving Me, so I can fully love them. And thanking God for the ministry in which he has placed me right here, right now: Momma. 