The central message yesterday was to claim the prize set out for us, to not let temerity or low self-esteem hold us back. He told of a childhood Easter egg hunt, of finding the grand-prize-winning egg and feeling he was too young to win the bicycle, of failing to pick up the prize, of watching as someone else claimed it. Since then, he's done a masterful job of claiming the prize laid out for him. Even as I sit here typing, I'm thinking, "I couldn't do that."
How many prizes have I avoided because I wasn't worthy, because success scared me? I entered a contest once, a prestigious international writing one, and while I didn't win, the editor of a major imprint of a super-big publishing company wrote me a personal letter telling me how to fix my book, directing me to send the rewrite directly to her. I didn't know how. And I didn't ask people around me for advice to help me make the growth spurt she was asking for. When I finally did the rewrite, she no longer was at that publishing house and my efforts to put my book before her failed. I've sent yesterday's speaker the covers of two books out little publishing venture intends to offer in the next few weeks, accepting his gracious offer to critique them. And I'm going to grow enough to correct errors pointed out.
He said something else to me privately that may make an even bigger difference. I was the last one through the serving line, having a role in coordinating and managing the event. My food plan is heavy on protein, and I took an ample serving of brisket and sausage, neither of which are preferred foods on the plan, but they were the protein available. Besides that I had a spoon of cole slaw and a small serving of pinto beans. And he commented on how much food I had on my plate. My resentment wants to rear it's head, but instead, I'm taking it as a growth point like all the rest he gave.
A trusted friend helping me work my program suggested this week that I imagine myself not at the lowest weight of my adult life, which is true, but which has remained pretty stable for a year now. She suggested instead I think of myself as always thin and having reached this body size, which is 190 pounds or thereabouts. If this weight horrified me as much as the 300 pounds did once upon a time, wouldn't the motivation to really work this program be stronger? Yes. It would.
And I know I'm still too heavy. My right knee has been painful the last four or five days. I've still been climbing the steps to my fifth floor office, knowing that may be stupid or may eventually help. Yesterday I wore slacks so I could have a tight garment around that knee -- but the garment was bought about 40 pounds ago, and it's not that tight anymore.
One more facet to the growing pile of proof it's time for a new surge in spiritual awareness, in humility and in accepting God's abundance, came in the fact two trusted friends have recommended I see Shirley Valentine. One of those suggestions was over a year ago, in February, 2008, and since that time I've had a note on the dashboard of this computer that says, "Shirley Valentine, 1989 British release." I was loaned a copy last Thursday, and I've now watched it twice. And ordered a couple of copies of it so when I give this one back, I'll have one to keep and one to loan out.
Today I am abstinent, I am claiming my Easter egg, and I'm trusting God to remove my fears and show me who he would have me be. Thank God!