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Thursday, September 29, 2016

Searching for Courage

Today I need courage and want to ask for those of you who know and love me to pray for me.

I've already had a small army of loved ones rally around me, who support this book Starving Girl.  
Among many things, I recognize food addiction, combat the negative body image and negative self-talk I've battled my entire life and learn to stop procrastinating.  I learned how the difficult decisions in my life have shaped my greatest potential and that big dreams are only possible if I live in the present.  All while I lose weight.  Amazing.

I know it's no mistake for my story to come out in a memoir about a 30-day intermittent fast. Fasting is a story all on its own, a most fascinating secret that has incredible mental and spiritual power.  What a pleasure to not only experience fasting, but to research and write about it.

Breaking my food addiction finally allowed for the clarity of mind that I needed. As I make the final edits, add the last minute changes and ideas, I am overcome with this epic journey.  So many of my life experiences manifested in this 30-day fast.  I wrote the book in 30 days and it's taken me almost 9 months to make sure it sings like a beautiful song.  I've cried and rejoiced, tried to hide only to finally be found.  

Now, I must find the courage for that next step, to let my words out in the universe and trust I did the best I could not only for myself and my family, but for God.  After all, He is the one who designed the fast.

When I first felt impressed to practice 16-18 hour daily fasts for 30-days, I thought it was impossible.  Still, I knew I had to do it.  Around day 12, I became angry.  Time seemed to stand still.  My hunger became a nagging beast and I couldn’t understand why I was putting myself through this.   It took 3 days, but around day 15, my emotions were finally set free.  Food could no longer keep them bottled up.  With that freedom, I took on a determination I’ve never experienced.  I finally had the faith in myself that I would finish my commitment of the 30-day fast.

But what happened on day 26, I never expected.

I started crying.  How could I give it up?  My daily communion with God?  All the self-discovery?  Finally learning to love my body?  Experiencing the incredible power of prayer?  It was so good.  Still, I knew my 30-day orientation was coming to an end. 

The last day of my 30-day fast, I wrote:

It was the last day of my fast and I’d had some anxiety about letting go.  I knew everything would be fine, but the process of evolving had been amazing.  It had been life-changing to peck away at my outer shell the way a chick breaks itself out of an egg.  It’s the “breaking out” that develops coordination, strengthens muscle and builds the type of confidence that screams “I know I can do this!”  I would miss my own hatching, the ceremony of peck, peck, pecking as I broke away fears, discouragement and hopelessness.  What I told myself I could never do, I’d accomplished.  What I thought impossible was possible.  How did I not know the greatest experiences in life came from doing hard things? 

My hunger took on a whole new meaning.  I wrote:

While juggling the tasks of motherhood, I spent the day writing.  I pushed away the sorrow, the knowing my orientation was finished; my days of growth and self-realization would never be the same.  My initial reaction to fasting was to shade my eyes and look away, but I was now staring into the brightness and glowing.  Stepping away from such enormous growth felt like a loss.  I couldn’t believe the miracles God shared in my life.  I wanted Him that big, that present.  I wanted Him like the feeling of starving. It was all-consuming, inescapable, and He was what I starved for now.

Thank you for praying for me.  I can already feel like I’m ready to spread my wings and fly.

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