This morning on the radio, my favorite morning show DJ’s were discussing a controversial ad campaign currently happening in the state of Georgia. The campaign called “Stop Sugarcoating it, Georgia” is meant to fight child obesity, which is soaring above 40% in Georgia. This campaign features several print and video ads portraying obese children saying things like, “Mom, why am I fat?” and “My doctor says I have hypertension”. The ads target the parents of obese children in hopes to educate them about the effect their child’s diet has on their physical and emotional well being. There has been a cry of outrage against this campaign from groups saying that the ads shame children for being overweight and that the state needs to find a better way to combat obesity.
I have seen the ads. You can view them here: http://strong4life.com/. I think that for the most part, the ads are clear about who their target audience is—the parents of obese children. The ads do not target overweight children directly; however, as an obese person myself, I can say that I did feel uncomfortable watching the ad. I suppose that is the point. For the most part, I think the ads are okay. I resent the statement in two of the ads that “being fat takes the fun out of being a kid.” I have been a fat kid since the first grade, and while I did suffer greatly from the years of teasing, I still remember having a whole lot of fun as a kid. I don’t like them implying that being fat ruins your entire quality of life. Overweight children, and adults for that matter, may feel some level of shame from watching these ads; however, I don’t think it is as extreme as the groups rallying against it are saying.
What absolutely floored me this morning was not the content of these controversial ads. It was the discussion my morning show DJ’s had following. Two out of the three of them have been overweight in the past and lost the weight. All three of them struggle or have struggled with body image. This is all the more reason why I was surprised when their stance on the matter was that fat people should be shamed into losing weight. The two that had been overweight in the past credited their weight loss to moments when they had been made to feel ashamed for being overweight. They went on to say that the only way a fat person will truly take action to lose weight is to make them feel ashamed of the way they are.
Am I alone in thinking that shame is a horrible motivator??
In fact, one of the very reasons I am obese is because of shame. Somewhere along the way I learned to suppress my negative emotions by eating. When I am overcome by anxiety, grief, and depression, I eat. Eating takes my mind off of the negative emotions, albeit for a short time. And when I feel ashamed or guilty for overeating, guess what? I eat more. I have endured years of painful teasing that makes me feel ashamed of the fact that I am obese. The anguish that this feeling of guilt causes only perpetuates the problem. It does not provide me with the motivation necessary to overcome the problem. Instead, it forces me deeper and deeper into the problem. I know I am not alone in this.
No, shaming a person for overeating is not the answer. The answer is fullness. We overeat to satisfy a hunger that is not physical. Food was created to fill our empty bellies. We use it to medicate our hurting souls. The sure way to cure obesity is to provide something so satisfying that food is not needed to cover up the hurt. The only thing I know of in this entire universe that can do that is through a relationship with Jesus Christ. When he died on the cross, he took our shame and it was crucified with him. He is our comfort, our peace, and our hope. Food satisfies our stomach temporarily. His love satisfies the heart forever.
I am obese. My flesh is weak. But my heart is made whole through Jesus. This world may try to shame me into being thinner, but that won’t get anyone anywhere. My healing journey and my deliverance from obesity will be because Jesus heals my hurts and takes away my shame.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
2011 In Review
I have been avoiding writing the 2011 in Review blog entry because 2011 wasn't my favorite year ever. When I look back on it now, I find that this past year was a challenging one. But rather than focus on all of the personal challenges that I faced and continue to face, I have pulled a few highlights from 2011 that are positive and worth talking about.
1. My 30th birthday. 2011 was a milestone year as far as birthdays go! My actual birthday was a difficult day, just dealing with the thought of the number 30 being my age. But aside from a few moments of panic in which the reality of aging slapped me in the face, it was a great celebration. My mom was in town visiting for my birthday and she and my husband treated me like a queen the whole week. I felt so special and so loved, and I know that I will always look back on my 30th birthday as one of my favorites. In addition to the fun celebration, my 30th birthday inspired me to write a list of 30 things to do this year while I'm 30. This list has given me positive things to look forward to, and has allowed me to step out and do things that I've always wanted to do but never got around to. I've been blogging about it here: http://30while30.blogspot.com
2. Jury Duty. I know, I know, jury duty isn't something that most people get excited about, but when I received my first summons for jury duty in 2011, I was so excited. I was even more thrilled when I actually got picked to sit on a jury! I spent three days in Judge David French's courtroom hearing a civil lawsuit between an 89 year old lady and an insurance company. Although the case matter itself was as boring as you can get (it was all about roofing and hurricane damage), I was rivetted every second that I was in that courtroom. Seeing the legal system in action was informative and exciting. I loved it and I would love to do it again.
3. Christmas vacation. My 2011 Christmas vacation back home in Cincinnati was my favorite one to date--except for the fact that it was shorter than the others! The main thing this Christmas break had going for it was that I was actually NOT sick for a change! I thank God for that, and the fact that it was unseasonably warm in Cincinnati so the cold weather didn't have a chance to take its toll on me. Perhaps because my year was such a personally challenging one, the visit home at the end of the year seemed that much sweeter.
So that's it, those are the highlights. Now let's see what 2012 has in store for me.
1. My 30th birthday. 2011 was a milestone year as far as birthdays go! My actual birthday was a difficult day, just dealing with the thought of the number 30 being my age. But aside from a few moments of panic in which the reality of aging slapped me in the face, it was a great celebration. My mom was in town visiting for my birthday and she and my husband treated me like a queen the whole week. I felt so special and so loved, and I know that I will always look back on my 30th birthday as one of my favorites. In addition to the fun celebration, my 30th birthday inspired me to write a list of 30 things to do this year while I'm 30. This list has given me positive things to look forward to, and has allowed me to step out and do things that I've always wanted to do but never got around to. I've been blogging about it here: http://30while30.blogspot.com
2. Jury Duty. I know, I know, jury duty isn't something that most people get excited about, but when I received my first summons for jury duty in 2011, I was so excited. I was even more thrilled when I actually got picked to sit on a jury! I spent three days in Judge David French's courtroom hearing a civil lawsuit between an 89 year old lady and an insurance company. Although the case matter itself was as boring as you can get (it was all about roofing and hurricane damage), I was rivetted every second that I was in that courtroom. Seeing the legal system in action was informative and exciting. I loved it and I would love to do it again.
3. Christmas vacation. My 2011 Christmas vacation back home in Cincinnati was my favorite one to date--except for the fact that it was shorter than the others! The main thing this Christmas break had going for it was that I was actually NOT sick for a change! I thank God for that, and the fact that it was unseasonably warm in Cincinnati so the cold weather didn't have a chance to take its toll on me. Perhaps because my year was such a personally challenging one, the visit home at the end of the year seemed that much sweeter.
So that's it, those are the highlights. Now let's see what 2012 has in store for me.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Cooking Woes
I haven't written an entry like this since the Great Crockery Woes of 2008. (Read it here for a refresher or if you haven't read it yet...I guarantee it will make you laugh out loud: http://jennafelton.blogspot.com/2008/11/crockery-woes.html). Tonight is just one of those evenings where a whole bunch of little things work together to make one bad night. But ya gotta laugh...right?
Tobin works late every night, so it's up to me to cook dinner. Usually by the time I get home from work, feed the guinea pigs, and get out of my work clothes, I don't have the energy to cook anything good. However, tonight I had all the ingredients to make chicken and rice, so I was going to prepare a nice meal for a change. Or so I thought.
Strike one: I thought I had cream of chicken soup, but didn't. However, I did have two small cans of cream of mushroom, so I was going to substituite no problem.
Strike two: I opened and poured one can of cream of mushroom into the pan. When I opened the second, just before I poured it, I realized it was actually tomato soup. I had no second can of cream of mushroom.
Strike three: I remembered I had a can of cream of celery (the most inferior of the "cream of" soups) hidden waaaay back in the pantry. I decided I'd use that because I had no other options. Only when I pulled it out--after moving EVERYTHING out of the way to get to it, mind you--I discovered that it was actually cream of onion soup. Definately not gonna work.
---In baseball this is where they say, "YOU'RE OUT!". I shoulda taken a hint from that, but I kept going---
Strike four: I thought I'd just make a half recipe (if that was even possible in my big pan) using the one tiny can of cream of mushroom I had. That's when I discovered that the milk was sour.
Strike five: At this point, I was really wishing I could just call Tobin and have him pick the stuff I need up on his way home from work, but he works late so I couldn't do that. So I tried to think of alternatives. Shake N Bake? None left. Cornflake chicken? No eggs. Skillet chicken divan? No broccoli. I finally realized I had to get my clothes back on (I was in PJ's, not naked) and go to the store.
Strike six: Going to the store when you're in a hurry never turns out good. Every slow driver will get in front of you, you will hit every red light, and you will be in a long line of people who all want to argue with the cashier how many cents they should be getting off with coupons they have.
Strike seven: I got home to the smell of something burning. I had preheated the oven and a pan that was on top of the burner that vents the stove heat was smoking.
Strike eight: I was rinsing the chicken off in the sink and dropped one of the nicer breasts down the garbage disposal.
Strike nine: When stirring the mushroom soup/milk/rice together, my hand slipped and shot a huge spoonful into my face and down the front of my shirt. (I had not put my PJ's back on yet...it was my dress shirt).
Stirke ten: Tobin walked in the door an hour early, just as I was putting dinner in the oven. He got out of work early and could have gone to the store after all.
Ha! <--- see, I'm laughing about it. Kinda.
Tobin works late every night, so it's up to me to cook dinner. Usually by the time I get home from work, feed the guinea pigs, and get out of my work clothes, I don't have the energy to cook anything good. However, tonight I had all the ingredients to make chicken and rice, so I was going to prepare a nice meal for a change. Or so I thought.
Strike one: I thought I had cream of chicken soup, but didn't. However, I did have two small cans of cream of mushroom, so I was going to substituite no problem.
Strike two: I opened and poured one can of cream of mushroom into the pan. When I opened the second, just before I poured it, I realized it was actually tomato soup. I had no second can of cream of mushroom.
Strike three: I remembered I had a can of cream of celery (the most inferior of the "cream of" soups) hidden waaaay back in the pantry. I decided I'd use that because I had no other options. Only when I pulled it out--after moving EVERYTHING out of the way to get to it, mind you--I discovered that it was actually cream of onion soup. Definately not gonna work.
---In baseball this is where they say, "YOU'RE OUT!". I shoulda taken a hint from that, but I kept going---
Strike four: I thought I'd just make a half recipe (if that was even possible in my big pan) using the one tiny can of cream of mushroom I had. That's when I discovered that the milk was sour.
Strike five: At this point, I was really wishing I could just call Tobin and have him pick the stuff I need up on his way home from work, but he works late so I couldn't do that. So I tried to think of alternatives. Shake N Bake? None left. Cornflake chicken? No eggs. Skillet chicken divan? No broccoli. I finally realized I had to get my clothes back on (I was in PJ's, not naked) and go to the store.
Strike six: Going to the store when you're in a hurry never turns out good. Every slow driver will get in front of you, you will hit every red light, and you will be in a long line of people who all want to argue with the cashier how many cents they should be getting off with coupons they have.
Strike seven: I got home to the smell of something burning. I had preheated the oven and a pan that was on top of the burner that vents the stove heat was smoking.
Strike eight: I was rinsing the chicken off in the sink and dropped one of the nicer breasts down the garbage disposal.
Strike nine: When stirring the mushroom soup/milk/rice together, my hand slipped and shot a huge spoonful into my face and down the front of my shirt. (I had not put my PJ's back on yet...it was my dress shirt).
Stirke ten: Tobin walked in the door an hour early, just as I was putting dinner in the oven. He got out of work early and could have gone to the store after all.
Ha! <--- see, I'm laughing about it. Kinda.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Target Dreaming
As I've said before, I have a very active dream life. Last night was no exception. This particular dream had me laughing hysterically--both in the dream and afterwards.
In my dream, my friend Daniela and I were roomates. We were both still married, but for whatever reason our husbands were out of the picture for an extended period of time so we decided to get an apartment together. We were given a Target gift card--perhaps as a housewarming gift. So there we were shopping at Target, trying to decide how to use our gift card, and it was not easy to come to an agreement. At first, I thought we should spend the gift card on groceries or something practical of that nature. Daniela vetoed this idea, suggesting instead that we use the gift card for something fun with which to decorate our apartment. We started to look around, and Daniela found a glass bowl that she was in love with. It was a pretty bowl, I'll admit. It was brown glass and it was filled with pretty potpourri flowers. The only problem with the bowl was what it said on the side.
"Daniela, we can't get that!" I exclaimed. "It says 'BARREN'" on the side.
"Exactly!" she replied. "It describes our apartment perfectly!"
I gave her my best whatchoo-talkin-bout-willis stares. "Daniela..." I said, "'Barren' means we can't have children."
"OH!" She says, putting the bowl down. Shrugging, she says, "I thought it meant 'spacious'".
We proceeded to look through the housewares section, searching for the perfect item. I found a candle in the shape of a cinnamon roll that smelled exactly like a cinnamon roll. I made Daniela smell it and asked if we could get that. She ignored me because something else had caught her eye.
"I want this!" She exclaimed, as she pulled a cupcake costume off the shelf. I gave her another one of my stares in response. I was wondering why anyone would want to dress up as a cupcake, but that thought left my mind as I watched with wide eyes as Daniela proceeded to try on the cupcake costume right there in the middle of the Target. She was struggling with it big time. I was laughing at her trying to squeeze into it. It was definately too small for her. But the funniest part was watching her try to get OUT of the costume. She was stuck in it! I was laughing to the point of tears watching her squirm and flail, trying to get the cupcake costume off.
I'm LOLing right now just remembering it.
In my dream, my friend Daniela and I were roomates. We were both still married, but for whatever reason our husbands were out of the picture for an extended period of time so we decided to get an apartment together. We were given a Target gift card--perhaps as a housewarming gift. So there we were shopping at Target, trying to decide how to use our gift card, and it was not easy to come to an agreement. At first, I thought we should spend the gift card on groceries or something practical of that nature. Daniela vetoed this idea, suggesting instead that we use the gift card for something fun with which to decorate our apartment. We started to look around, and Daniela found a glass bowl that she was in love with. It was a pretty bowl, I'll admit. It was brown glass and it was filled with pretty potpourri flowers. The only problem with the bowl was what it said on the side.
"Daniela, we can't get that!" I exclaimed. "It says 'BARREN'" on the side.
"Exactly!" she replied. "It describes our apartment perfectly!"
I gave her my best whatchoo-talkin-bout-willis stares. "Daniela..." I said, "'Barren' means we can't have children."
"OH!" She says, putting the bowl down. Shrugging, she says, "I thought it meant 'spacious'".
We proceeded to look through the housewares section, searching for the perfect item. I found a candle in the shape of a cinnamon roll that smelled exactly like a cinnamon roll. I made Daniela smell it and asked if we could get that. She ignored me because something else had caught her eye.
"I want this!" She exclaimed, as she pulled a cupcake costume off the shelf. I gave her another one of my stares in response. I was wondering why anyone would want to dress up as a cupcake, but that thought left my mind as I watched with wide eyes as Daniela proceeded to try on the cupcake costume right there in the middle of the Target. She was struggling with it big time. I was laughing at her trying to squeeze into it. It was definately too small for her. But the funniest part was watching her try to get OUT of the costume. She was stuck in it! I was laughing to the point of tears watching her squirm and flail, trying to get the cupcake costume off.
I'm LOLing right now just remembering it.
Monday, June 13, 2011
My Glass House Dream
I have very vivid and strange dreams on a regular basis. I consider this to be a gift, in some ways. My dreams play out like movies while I sleep, complete with solid plot lines and detailed scenery. This detailed dreaming has driven some of the stories I write...and vice versa. Usually my dreams keep me entertained while I sleep, but occasionally I have a dream that makes me think and examine myself hours after I'm awake. Last night, I had such a dream.
In my dream, I lived in a two story house that was made entirely of glass windows. The entire dream took place inside this home. I was scared. I was more scared than I have ever been because HE was coming. I'm still not exactly sure who HE was, but whoever he was, he was bad. A trained killer. And he was after me. The first thing I did was call over my friends, police officers who were parked accross the street. I had them sit in the chairs on the front porch, guarding the front door.
Leaving them outside, I turned inside and ran around, desperate with panic. I knew I didn't have much time before the evil man got to my house and tried to break in, so I was frantically running around trying to lock all of the windows. I started with the foyer area near the front door. The windows here were brand new and nice. Some were even beautiful stained glass. I finished with this area quickly because most of the windows were made of unbreakable glass and couldn't be opened from the outside.
From there, I moved on to the living room and dining room. Most of the windows here were the kind you would find in a typical suburban home. I was able to latch them quickly and feel satisfied that HE couldn't get in there.
Next, I ran downstairs, and my anxiety grew. This wasn't an area of the house I went to often. It was just a large empty space covered in cobwebs. The windows down here were older, with rusty weak latches. I had trouble locking them. I began crying fearful tears as I realized that some of them just would not lock. And to my dismay, as I kept running from window to window, it seems as if the length of the room went on forever. The evil man was drawing nearer and I would never have time to lock all of these windows in time. Frantic, I ran to the other end of the house as fast as I could, desperate to lock whatever windows I could. I found myself at the end of the room in a dark area. The windows here were covered in dirt and grime so that the sun couldn't shine through. Weeds had grown up the side of the glass. I tried to turn the rusty latches, but they would not budge. Some of the glass on these windows was even broken and cracking. This area was not safe at all.
My dream ended there, with me standing in that part of my house, my heart overflowing with anxiety, and the evil man was upon me. And then I woke up.
This dream seems to symbolize what I have been going through lately. I have recently started dealing with issues that have plagued me for most of my life. Deep, emotional issues that are easier left hidden but must be dealt with for me to be healthy. The fact that my house was made entirely of glass in the dream symbolizes my new transparency--my willingness to deal with these issues. I think the evil man in my dream, the trained killer, represents Satan and his lies--the lies that I have bought into, thus causing my emotional issues. The sections of my house represent parts of my heart and soul, and you can see from the condition of the windows how prepared I am when faced with an attack from the enemy. My foyer, the part of my heart that is closest to the surface and on display for people to see, was heavily fortified. The glass was unbreakable and there were even guards at the door. The deeper into my house/heart I went, the weaker the windows became. And then there was the back of the house. This represents the area of my heart that is broken and weak. This is where the enemy is most likely to attack. This is where I am most vulnerable. In my dream, I was left standing here--in an area of my house/heart that I never went to--knowing that an attack was coming. I believe this is where I am right now. The enemy has been attacking me here for years, but I have been ignoring it, choosing instead to stay upstairs where it is safe and sunny. God is bringing me to the dark parts of my heart, parts that I've been scared to examine. However, the good news is that he's not going to leave me alone there. I'm going to let God clean up the grime, tear away the weeds, and mend the broken glass.
In my dream, I lived in a two story house that was made entirely of glass windows. The entire dream took place inside this home. I was scared. I was more scared than I have ever been because HE was coming. I'm still not exactly sure who HE was, but whoever he was, he was bad. A trained killer. And he was after me. The first thing I did was call over my friends, police officers who were parked accross the street. I had them sit in the chairs on the front porch, guarding the front door.
Leaving them outside, I turned inside and ran around, desperate with panic. I knew I didn't have much time before the evil man got to my house and tried to break in, so I was frantically running around trying to lock all of the windows. I started with the foyer area near the front door. The windows here were brand new and nice. Some were even beautiful stained glass. I finished with this area quickly because most of the windows were made of unbreakable glass and couldn't be opened from the outside.
From there, I moved on to the living room and dining room. Most of the windows here were the kind you would find in a typical suburban home. I was able to latch them quickly and feel satisfied that HE couldn't get in there.
Next, I ran downstairs, and my anxiety grew. This wasn't an area of the house I went to often. It was just a large empty space covered in cobwebs. The windows down here were older, with rusty weak latches. I had trouble locking them. I began crying fearful tears as I realized that some of them just would not lock. And to my dismay, as I kept running from window to window, it seems as if the length of the room went on forever. The evil man was drawing nearer and I would never have time to lock all of these windows in time. Frantic, I ran to the other end of the house as fast as I could, desperate to lock whatever windows I could. I found myself at the end of the room in a dark area. The windows here were covered in dirt and grime so that the sun couldn't shine through. Weeds had grown up the side of the glass. I tried to turn the rusty latches, but they would not budge. Some of the glass on these windows was even broken and cracking. This area was not safe at all.
My dream ended there, with me standing in that part of my house, my heart overflowing with anxiety, and the evil man was upon me. And then I woke up.
This dream seems to symbolize what I have been going through lately. I have recently started dealing with issues that have plagued me for most of my life. Deep, emotional issues that are easier left hidden but must be dealt with for me to be healthy. The fact that my house was made entirely of glass in the dream symbolizes my new transparency--my willingness to deal with these issues. I think the evil man in my dream, the trained killer, represents Satan and his lies--the lies that I have bought into, thus causing my emotional issues. The sections of my house represent parts of my heart and soul, and you can see from the condition of the windows how prepared I am when faced with an attack from the enemy. My foyer, the part of my heart that is closest to the surface and on display for people to see, was heavily fortified. The glass was unbreakable and there were even guards at the door. The deeper into my house/heart I went, the weaker the windows became. And then there was the back of the house. This represents the area of my heart that is broken and weak. This is where the enemy is most likely to attack. This is where I am most vulnerable. In my dream, I was left standing here--in an area of my house/heart that I never went to--knowing that an attack was coming. I believe this is where I am right now. The enemy has been attacking me here for years, but I have been ignoring it, choosing instead to stay upstairs where it is safe and sunny. God is bringing me to the dark parts of my heart, parts that I've been scared to examine. However, the good news is that he's not going to leave me alone there. I'm going to let God clean up the grime, tear away the weeds, and mend the broken glass.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Book Review: Unsinkable
Unsinkable by Abby Sunderland and Lynn Vincent is the recounting of Abby Sunderland's attempt to break the record for being the youngest girl to sail around the world solo. The book provides details of Abby's preparations for the trip, her experiences while on the trip, and of course, the destruction of her boat and the dramatic high seas rescue. The book is told from three different perspectives: Abby's, the Sunderland family's, and the rescuers'. Abby herself writes the sections that detail her personal preparations for the trip as well as her time on the boat and relections after the rescue. Lynn Vincent tells the story from the viewpoint of Abby's family and boat crew. The men who rescued Abby also contributed to describe her rescue from their point of view.
Abby's story is one of determination and hope. It is a touching and inspirational story about a young girl following her dream at all costs. I personally remember when Abby first set out on her journey and followed closely as the media reported when she went missing at sea. At the time, I felt drawn to this girl's story and prayed for her safe return. It is a gripping story, and a good read.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Book Review: Couples Who Pray
When reading this review, please keep in mind that I am reviewing the BOOK Couples Who Pray by Squire Rushell and Louise DuArt. I will start by saying that the idea of couples praying together for 40 days and charting the improvements they see in their lives and their marriage is an idea I can really get behind. I think it is a phenomenal idea. In fact, I am in the midst of the challenge right now, on day 15 of praying with my husband for at least five minutes a day. I encourage every couple to give the 40 day prayer challenge a try!
That being said, my task is to review the book and not the idea. I thought that this book was poorly written and boring. The ideas seemed thrown together haphazardly and the book was not organized very well. The testimony from semi-famous couples leave a lot to be desired. It certainly could not hold my attention. I do not recommend this book. However, I do recommend the website advertised in the book: www.coupleswhopray.com. The website lays out the 40 day prayer challenge in a concise way, with electronic questionnaires and an online journal to help you chart your progress. If you want to get started on the 40 day prayer challenge, skip the book and go to the website.
I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
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