Two boxes - Telling Her Story of Unplanned Pregnancy

“Here, take these,” she says to me, handing me two boxes.  “I can’t do it.”

I take the two boxes out of her hands.  

She won’t give me eye contact.

“Everything is in there – my journal, the ultrasound pictures, the adoption letters, pictures,” and her voice trails off. I don’t know what to say.

“What you’re doing is really important,” she says, encouraging me to continue in my research.  What she doesn’t realize is collecting stories of unplanned pregnancy has opened my heart up in a way I never expected.  Yes, I feel pain, their pain, but I also feel their strength, even when they think they are weak.  Those who are members of the “unplanned pregnancy” club are my new heroes.  They are the strongest women I know.

“My kids don’t know they have a 14 year-old brother.  I’ve kept this quiet for so long.”

She turns back to her car and opens the door.

“Thank you,” I say, but what I really want to say is “I’m in awe you have trusted me with your heart and soul.  I will reverently look through these boxes with love and respect.  I will do my best to tell your story, to tell your son’s story.”

Once inside my home, I open the lid of the first box and see several ultrasound pictures.  Underneath that is a newborn photo of a beautiful Asian baby, with spiked black hair.  His little hands are beautiful and I can almost feel how soft his skin is.  Newborn babies smell like the blossoms of a bloomed apricot tree and my senses pick up on the sweetness of him. 

How did she do it?  She placed him for adoption that very day, most likely just after this newborn photo was taken.  I peer into the box and I see it underneath some lose papers – a photo of her holding her newborn son.  She’s wearing a hospital gown and lying in bed, holding her baby just as tight as she’s holding back her tears.  The pain in her face is unmistakable, like a scar that might never go away. Who took the photo? Perhaps her mother, a friend? They say a picture says a thousand words, for it would be impossible to write how she felt at this moment, knowing her son was soon to be placed with another.

I pick up the loose papers of her journal. She starts by writing how she used to be a good girl, but once she befriended the wrong crowd she started making choices that took her on a different path.  Her self-esteemed suffered, as did her relationship with her parents.  She started college, but moved back home within a year.  Because of her lifestyle she couldn’t keep up with work and school.  Eventually  she moved in with her boyfriend, whom she’d known since elementary school.  They were together for three years when she became pregnant. She thought he’d marry her, but instead he said, “I don’t think I really love you.”  

She writes - I’m 22 and pregnant.  To most people, this would be a very exciting time in their life.  For me it has to be one of the hardest and saddest because I’m placing my baby for adoption.

She turned back to her faith, back to her parents and back to what she knew to be true.  When she first met with the social worker, she knew adoption was the right answer for her. A feeling as true as a flame burned through her when she saw a photo of the family that would soon adopt her son. What a gift to know with such certainty that these were the right people. 

 I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to be immoral.  It started way back in 10^th grade when I tried my first cigarette.  After that, one thing led to another and I ended up hanging out with the wrong crowd.  Growing up, I didn’t see my life this way and looking back, I can’t believe I let it happen.  I always wanted freedom, but I guess I allowed myself too much freedom.

She is married now and a mother of four more beautiful children.  I see her in the carpool line at school.  Her family is exceptional, her children are darling and she smiles as she takes them into her arms.  She is an athlete who works each day to be strong.  I used to think strength came easy to her, but now I see how she’s had to work for it.  She doesn’t know me very well, but she trusts me with this experience. She has given me two boxes full of memories of the child she had 14 years ago. He is being raised by beautiful people, his hair is still spiked and he smiles just like his mom.

WHAT HAS YOUR SISTER DONE - Stories of Unplanned Pregnancy is in its final stages of edits.  If you have a story, there is still time to submit it by March 31, 2017.  If you'd like me to help you write your story, please message me on facebook at My Dear Trash or email me at mydeartrash@gmail.com.  It takes about an hour and I can interview you over the phone or in person. If your unfamiliar as to why my blog is called My Dear Trash, please read here.  I will spend a lifetime searching for, collecting, listening to and validating these incredible experiences of unplanned pregnancy.

To read about my personal experience with overcoming sexual abuse and how a pregnancy scare changed my life, my memoir Starving Girl is available on Amazon.  Click here to read more.  

To watch my podcast of Starving Girl on youtube, click here.

I Asked My Brother To Help Me – My Podcast on Intermittent Fasting and Prayer

Have you ever wanted to do something, but weren’t sure how to make it happen?  This is what I love about coming from a big family.  I have four brothers and four sisters and enjoy the relationships I share with my siblings tremendously.  When I was growing up, I always had a friend.  I was the second oldest, so many Friday and Saturday nights when I was home I was in the company of two and four year-olds, but that didn’t matter.  I love my siblings, big and small, young or old, boy or girl. 

When I wrote Starving Girl, I had lots of emotional support from my family and my brother Tadd became very interested in what I was doing.  He noticed a change in me.  In his own words, “There was a change in your posture and there seemed to be a light in your eyes.  Something in you was different and I wanted to know what it was.”  It’s easy to see why I love my brother.  He's always been a dear person.

Here he is with his little baby.

And another baby.

And lots of his babies.

He's a great uncle.

Plus, I love his wild side.

But, this is how I'll always remember him.

When it came time to make my podcast, I knew he was the one to help me make it happen.  He has a master’s degree and loves to read and learn.  He had many questions about fasting, overcoming, writing and more.  Last week, Tadd and I spent some time together and we made a podcast. 

I walk 4-5 miles a day and love listening to books on tape, lectures, spiritual leaders, interviews, TED talks, inspirational discussions and more.  If it wasn’t for those who’ve shared deep experiences of there life, I don’t think I’d be an avid walker.  I need to hear your stories, your books, your ideas and be inspired (I wrote about that here).  In my podcast, I hope to return the favor.  Those of you who like listening to interviews while walking, driving or working around the house, this is for you.  Tadd asked great questions and we had a very meaningful discussion.

I discuss intermittent fasting, intention, prayer, how sexual abuse destroyed my self-esteem and how I over came this, food addiction, unplanned pregnancy, how I felt God spoke to me while I was fasting, why writing/journaling has been important and more.  I hope there’s something of value for those out there who take the time to listen.

My next project with my memoir Starving Girl will be putting it on audiobook.  

I know I rarely have time to read.  Unless it’s book on tape, I don’t have time to get around to it.  In the meantime, here’s the first podcast on Starving Girl and I appreciate my brother taking the time to create this with me.  He’s the best. 

So, here it is.  I hope you enjoy it and if you have other questions please message me off facebook at My Dear Trash and Tadd and I can work on another podcast.  There are so many fascinating aspects of intermittent fasting and prayer and I don't think we covered nearly every beautiful thing I was able to experience.  

Click here to watch it on youtube.

So, You Want to Write a Memoir

I have written several novels and have published two memoirs, my memoir Starving Girl and my mom’s memoir The Memory Catcher.  

My mom author and researcher Sarah Hinze and I being 

photographed for our local newspaper.  2103

I find reading and writing memoirs meaningful to the things I know to be eternally true.  I feel as we do simple, yet extraordinary things, our personal stories are magnified and meaning is everywhere.  Here are a few tips to get started:

1)     Find the most meaningful part of your story.  For me, it was my first 30-days of fasting.  I wrote in real time, but much of my memoir looked at past experiences.  Look through your blog, facebook, old journals, photos, etc.  Find your angles, quirky unusuals, meaningful life lessons, etc. See if you have one life experience bigger than the others.  What are the common themes?  What part of your life is your best story? 

2)     Don’t get too stuck on dates.  Most biographies do not read like my book, where dates are the start of each chapter, but do try to start a chronological path of each meaningful experience.  Think of Erin Brochovich, Julie and Julia, Eat Pray Love, Wild, The Glass House, etc.

3)     Don’t get lost in the details, at first.  The details will come later.  Be very general, but once you have your outline finished, I want you to put yourself right back in that scene and think of your emotions.  Emotions are the best teachers.  At this point, I want you to get specific.  More ideas will flood your mind.  Keep going.  Go detail crazy. Think of your senses.  Bring in past experiences that might be significant at this point.  Your input has no boundaries.  Ask yourself questions.  Research your own ideas.

4)     The start of your book should be a gripping, emotional story to pull the reader in.  The event maybe didn’t even happen during your “best life story”, but it is a monumental experience that opened your eyes to what?  Love?  Adventure?  Commitment?  Overcoming?  Whatever it is, and you probably haven’t written this scene, start digging to get it done.

5)     I kept my baggage out of my book.  This doesn’t mean I’m not revealing or even vulnerable, but I tried to focused every story on strength, overcoming and self-discovery.  No preaching and no gossiping.  I spoke very kindly of my loved ones, because I love so many of the people who make their way into my book.  I made a point to not reference “You.” Or make generalizations about what most people might think or do.  Everything I wrote about was written from the “I.”

6)     Pray like the dickens.  God has asked us to journal, to keep a family history, etc.  Although writing a memoir is not the same as writing in your journal, please know Heavenly Father will help you ( But you already know this.)

7)     If you don’t think you can write about a certain scene, write it anyway.  If it’s something embarrassing, revealing, shocking, emotional, write it generally.  Think of scenes you’ve read in other books like the scene in Wild when Cheryl had to shot her mother’s horse or when Elizabeth Smart wrote about her rape in My Story.  When I wrote Starving Girl, I imagined everyone close to me reading it.  I had to remind myself most of the people I know won’t even read my memoir.  I had to write the story for me and there were certain necessary scenes I had to make fit.  Second of all, your story is intended for a bigger audience.  Be silly, don’t take yourself too seriously.  Write it for your own sake and decide later if you have the courage to include it in your memoir.  For me, in the writing I found the courage to overcome.  

8)     Write and then, we-write.  Edit, write and re-write.  Write, put it away, work on another scene, then go back and read your previous work.  Rinse and repeat, ok, don’t rinse.

9)     Keep a log of ideas.  I would be out on a walk or folding laundry, and an idea would come to mind.  You don’t want to lose any of this.  I would speak into my phone and email my ideas to my computer.  Don’t think, “Oh, I’ll remember it later.”  This is a trap.  Take your ideas seriously.  Invest in yourself.

10) Listen to motivational talks.  Be inspired.  Read memoirs.  Listen to audio books.  Study your favorite authors.  Research their lives.  When people ask “What do you do?”  reply, “I’m an author.”  Start looking at yourself differently. 

11) Ask yourself, “What is it I want to say?”  What do you wish was out their in literature?  Have you found it?  Write the book you’d want to read.  Say the things you’d want to hear.  Be the voice.  Be strong in your convictions (without preaching). 

12) Do not seclude your audience by clinging to certain religious or cultural differences.  Be more general with these ideas, as they might turn certain readers off. 

13) Keep the flow.  Once a story ends, end it.  Do not analyze things to death.  Allow the reader to fill in some of the gaps.  Don’t write, “My husband is the best.”  Instead, write about a time he proved he was the best.  Show, don’t tell.

14) Allow us into your mind.  Let us hear the pros and cons.  Let us hear your inner battle, the courtroom drama, etc.  The inner growth and struggle is a key part of the story.

15) If you have written on your blog or kept a journal, many of your stories are already in their first–draft format.  If possible, use some of your past writings to propel you forward and think, “I’m so glad I kept this stuff written down.”

Remember, every rule can be broken if necessary to share your story.  So, there you have it.  Writing your own memoir is a thrilling, rewarding journey that I think more women should experience.  Your life story has real villains and heroes, adventures to unknown destinations and gripping accounts of overcoming.  Email me at mydeartrash@gmail.com if you have any questions.  Happy Writing.

Find it on Amazon and Kindle.

Find my book trailer on youtube by clicking here.

Find The Memory Catcher here.

Book trailer here.  

The Day I Wore A Belt

When we were in Flagstaff this summer, I did something I never thought I’d do again.  I wore a belt. 

The “belt-wearing experience” was one of the many celebrations I’ve had on my journey of intermittent fasting.  It’s symbolic of a much greater blessing. 

In my book Starving Girl – my 30-day experience with the miracle of intermittent fasting and prayer, I write about the moment I realized my belly fat was taking over my life. 

My baby was about six months old and I was in the place where I could still make excuses to myself.  Yes, I was unhappy, unhealthy and living in denial, but I’d just had a baby.  Deep down, I knew there was nothing I could or would ever do about my belly fat.  Nothing in my closet fit, except if it was stretchy.  I sang praises to the yoga waistband, the clothing that made me feel like I was going to work out at any minute, even if I didn’t. 

It was during this time I had an encounter with my belly fat.  It was heartbreaking to realize how out of control I was.  It’s no surprise this experience started at Goodwill.  I wrote: 

At Goodwill, I walked over to the jeans rack.  With high hopes, I scanned through the jeans.  I was looking for specific qualities.  The jeans had to be stretchy, low rise and fabulously trendy.  I found three pair that looked like they should fit, and purchased them.  Later that night when everyone had gone to bed, I went into the bathroom and tried on the jeans.  In the mirror I stared, horrified the first pair didn’t even fit over my hips.  It was like my stomach and rear end were having a battle of the bulge contest.  Sure, I was aware my stomach had issues but my backside too?  Ok, I could handle this.  Sometimes sizes ran small, and I convinced myself this was the problem.  I tried on the second pair and wiggled, stretching and pulling, until they barely moved past my hips.  The button and buttonhole were nearly a foot apart.  I thought of the construction equipment that dug up and rebuilt roads.  It would take the chains and hook of such equipment to bring the zipper and button together.  Another hit and miss, but the last pair, the biggest pair I’d found, had the best stretch in the fabric. I pulled the tight material up my thighs.  I sucked in air and postured my body straight and stiff, pulling at the zipper as it reluctantly inched up.  Although I felt my back jar out of alignment, I continued.  I was going to win this battle or lose my mind.  The button dug into my thumb and forefinger as I manipulated it into the buttonhole. I’d done it.  The jeans fit.  Never mind the enormous fat and skin from my belly that hung over the jeans like an udder from under a cow’s belly.  With the jeans forcing my belly fat “up and out,” I lifted it with my hands, amazed it moved, pliable like stretched taffy.  My belly fat—why was it there?  Why did it need to be there?  How had I acquired it?  Should I name it?  Was it always going to be there?  Every other part of my body had purpose, but the belly fat had absolutely no purpose.  Yet there it sat, overflowing out of my hands like an Italian chef kneading pizza dough.  How many shabby chic dressers would I need to sell to pay for a tummy tuck?  Out of my peripheral vision, my rear end waved. “What about me?” it seemed to say.      

These were the three jeans that had been taunting me ever since.  Of course I’d never worn them, and I was too unorganized to take them back to Goodwill, but it was more than that.  I wasn’t going to let them win.  I had not known how or when, but the jeans were going down, so I’d kept them.   

I’m happy to say after just a couple of weeks of intermittent fasting, all the jeans from this horrible experience fit. After three months of intermittent fasting, the same jeans (and many more) were donated to the thrift store because they were too big. 

Donated jeans.

Going through my closet, giving away clothes that don't fit anymore.

Now, every time I wear a belt, I feel an enormous amount of gratitude.  

Well, there's that belt again!

My journey with intermittent fasting is far from over. but this small victory means my belly fat didn't win.

Here's my before and after picture of my journey, so far.

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.

Someone pinch me - an author's dream come true

Today, I celebrate.  I hold, in my trembling hands, speaking in a whisper with a barely audible voice, with nerves nothing like steel, but more like wet noodles, with knees knocking, heart palpitating and mind-spinning, but in the words of author Elizabeth Gilbert “. . . choosing the path of curiosity over the path of fear,” I step out from behind the shadows of my computer monitor and into the light of Amazon, print on demand and (dare I say it) book reviews (and clearly the longest run-on sentence every written). 

In one hand, I hold my baby, my real baby who set me on this path.  My little boy who is the best thing that ever happened to me as a post-forty-year-old woman.  In my other hand, I hold an advanced readers copy of my memoir Starving Girl – My 30-day Experience with the Miracle of Intermittent Fasting and Prayer (Three Orchard Productions). 

I’ve been working on this book for 8 months – 8 long months of self-revelation, sleepless nights, growth, spirituality, glory, mind-blowing evidence and let’s not forget, hunger. That’s right, hunger has been an incredible motivator - from hitting rock bottom to having to dig myself out to discovering the most beautiful journey.  I’ve done this all with somebody I really didn’t know very well, somebody who I wouldn’t have picked, somebody who I wasn’t sure if she could really do it.  That person is me.  The reason this story has a happy ending is because along the way God showed me who I really am.  Hoping for a release date of September 24, my birthday.  What a gift that would be! 

"Ta-da, my mom did it," Canyon says.  I love this little boy so much.

After much thought, typing, deleting, writing, editing, starting over, looking for deeper meaning and then finally just having some fun with it - here’s the back book blurb. 

The proverbial bowl of flying spaghetti was a common theme for Laura Lofgreen, a 43 year-old mother of six very active children, including a new baby.  Obese, overwhelmed and living in a state of procrastination, she decided to either change her life or age quietly into the sunset of poor health and unfulfilled dreams. Lofgreen had spent decades dieting, but hunger always got the best of her.  When an out-of-the-blue revelation told her to fast for 30 days, she hesitantly stepped into the world hunger.  Why would she put herself in such a position?  Her Christian faith encouraged fasting, a task she’d ignored for 20 years.  Could there be more to this timeless, religious practice than she realized?  Determined, she struggled, resented, fought and eventually rejoiced in the lessons she learned from daily 16-hour fasts. 

Food; a sore spot for many women struggling with body-image reminded her of Eve and the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.  Since the beginning of time, food had been a tool for good or bad.  Laura constantly asked God questions:  Why was obesity wide-spread?  Was over-eating and depression linked?  Why did some have so much while others starved?  Why was body size related to self-worth?  Why had she turned to food after being sexually abused?  When every impulse and craving of her body was not satisfied, her motivation became stronger and she became more present in life.  She experienced improved relationships with her family and her mind became a breeding ground for deep-thinking and positive affirmation.  In essence, the dreams she’d long buried became reality. 

Laura Lofgreen is a published author (The Memory Catcher) and founder of project: USED; raising awareness through vintage dresses for the 1 out of 3 girls who are sexually abused.  Lofgreen graduated Magna Cum Laude in Communication from Arizona State University. With over a million hits, most days you can find her writing on her blog My Dear Trash (www.mydeartrash.com).

When Starving Girl is up on Amazon, I’ll post a link.

Intermittent fasting – 5 months later

I wrote my memoir Starving Girl – my 30-day experience with the miracle of intermittent fasting in 30 days. 

Every day, I took time to journal how I felt about what I was doing, the challenges, rewards and impressions.  I wrote about hunger, body image and overcoming negative self-talk.  I was in uncharted territories, I mean me, the girl who loved eating and had been overweight most of her life was going without food for 16 hours a day and writing about it.  I was no expert on fasting, prayer or weight-loss.  All I knew about fasting was what I’d been taught by my Christian parents as a child: on the first Sunday of every month our family skipped two consecutive meals.  The money saved from not eating the two meals was given to the poor.  We were intentional about our fast, praying for those in our family or community in need of help.  With this concept, I was going to fast for 30 days, meaning skipping two meals a day.  I skipped breakfast and lunch and would eat from 4:00pm to bedtime.  Before bed, I’d kneel in prayer and start my fast for the next day.  Why?  This may be difficult to believe, but it was because God told me to.  I fasted on Sunday January 3, 2016, my typical best-effort once-a-month fast when I felt impressed to fast for 30 days.  I was told it would change my life and my life needed a lot of changing. 

At first, I tried to talk myself out of it.  Why would I feel impressed to do such a thing?  Was fasting for 30 days even healthy?  My once-a month attempts at fasting were pretty pathetic and usually resulted in either sneaking something to eat or having a bad attitude and complaining about how difficult it was.  Truth was I didn’t want to fast for 30-days, but throughout my life, through miracle after miracle and blessing after blessing, I’d learned to recognize God’s voice.  I couldn’t deny the inspiration to fast for 30 days came from Him.  He’s the boss.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t follow through with what I’d been instructed to do. Even on the most difficult days, even when hunger made me nauseous or when there was chocolate chip cookie dough right in front of me, I carried on. With God right by my side, quitting was never an option.

While fasting, I learned things about myself I didn’t know before like:

I learned I had a food addiction. 

I realized I had a negative body image and talked down to myself because I felt fat.

Although I thought I was grateful for food, I learned most of the time I resented food and blamed it for most of my problems.

I’d exaggerated my relationship with food.  When I thought I was starving, I learned there were people in the world who were truly hungry; even starving.

I didn’t realize how much food I had wasted throughout my life until I went without food. 

I lived in a constant state of either procrastination or rush and was never settled with myself.

Even with God at my side, fasting for 30 days was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done, but it was also one of the most rewarding.

The rewards were the following:

I was able to stop the negative self-talk in my mind.

I overcame my food addiction.

I developed a habit of praying every day, even multiple times a day for those in need.

I turned to the sweetness of the scriptures when I craved sweets.

I stopped wasting food.

I learned hunger was not something to fear or despise, but to turn to gratitude.

I became aware of my ancestors, those who’d lived before me who had gone hungry and was incredibly grateful for them.

I developed true empathy for the poor and prayed for them throughout the day.

I was able to give the money I saved while fasting to the poor.

I developed a relationship with God that literally brought me to tears.

I learned I am a child of God and I believe it whole-heartedly.

I learned to live in the moment.

Oh, I almost forgot because it’s not as significant as the other rewards - I lost 12 pounds.

After my 30-day experience, I continued fasting because not only had I learned to love it, but I discovered a term called intermittent fasting.  Believe it or not, what I was doing was healthy and promoted by many doctors and researchers.  Intermittent fasting concludes there is a pattern to eating and the body runs more efficiently when it consumes its daily calories in an 8-hour eating window.  I believe it is not promoted like it should be because nobody makes any money off it.  Intermittent fasting is free.

I continued editing my memoir; adding additional insights, stories and impressions.  It is now in the hands of a very talented miracle-working editor.

I just finished my fifth month of fasting.  My memoir is done and hopefully will be up on Amazon in the next month.  I’ll have a book launch on my blog soon, but I’ve learned so much more about fasting then what you’ll find in the first book.  The rewards keep on coming, as does the weight-loss so I’ve decided to start book 2 of Starving Girl.  Because I plan on practicing intermittent fasting for a year, I may also write a book 3 of Starving Girl. 

For many people, the most interesting part of intermittent fasting is the weight-loss.  Dieting is a billion dollar industry and people are desperate to get those unwanted pounds off.  I get this because dieting was the focus of my life every since I was a teenager.  That’s right, for 30 years I’ve fought this demon.  I will share my numbers, although I do this with one caveat:  fasting has changed my life because of the spiritual and emotional benefits, not because of the number on the scale.  I weight myself at my doctor’s office, as I do not keep a scale in my home.  I will not give the glory to the scale, but to my Heavenly Father.

 Before intermittent fasting:

After five-months of intermittent fasting:

I’ve lost 30 pounds, dropped two dress sizes and am running 2 miles a day.  I’ve incorporated a lot more exercise into my life because I love it and my body is lighter and stronger.  If it wasn’t for the spiritual growth, awareness and empathy I’ve developed, I don’t know if I would have ever learned to commit to a healthy eating plan, but this is it for me.  Intermittent fasting is amazing and now, it’s pretty easy.  I rarely feel hungry while fasting.  Prayer is essential, as is scripture study and giving to the poor.

I started a conversation on facebook about intermittent fasting and there were some haters.  Out of maybe 100 positive comments, 3 people voiced negative concerns.  I was told I was anorexic (yea, right!), needed therapy and should not be promoting intermittent fasting because I’m not a doctor or dietician.  Several people involved in the discussion defended intermittent fasting and voiced they had been advised by their doctor to practice the same thing.  Despite my insecurities, I combated the negativity pretty well and only wallowed for about a month.  I wondered if I should I keep my journey private, but when I was told to fast for 30 days, I was also told to write about my experience so I’ll share my story with the greatest of hopes to help others who struggle with the same issues.  You should talk to your doctor if you're considering trying it.  I'm ever so thankful for God's law of the fast.

Since fasting, I’ve become more aware, even alert that people all throughout the world go without food every single day.

So, what got me through my first true day of fasting?

Here I am November 2015, six weeks before I started my experience with intermittent fasting.

Desperate, the answer surprised me. 

After sending the kids off to school, I cleaned up the breakfast dishes when the first wave of hunger hit.  The hunger was an earth-moving force and I gripped onto the side of my kitchen counter.  My stomach felt like a black hole and there was soreness.  The actual muscle of my stomach ached, but nothing about the hunger made me crave food. 

Soon after, the first hunger pains subsided and I carried on with my day.  Dishes, laundry, and of course taking care of the most adorable baby ever when at 2:00pm I became hungry again; hunger like I’d never felt before.  The hunger felt like a monster growling from the inside out.  The sensation frightened me.  What was I doing?  Going without food didn't seem healthy.  Something was wrong with me when in my mind I cried out to God.

“Please, I need to eat.  I can’t do this, it’s too hard.”

“Not yet,” a voice in my mind said. 

“Then when can I eat,” I asked. 

“4:00pm,” the voice answered back.  

Two more hours without food? It didn’t seem possible.  I started to feel the weight of what I was doing.  Was this even safe?  The uninvited guest of self-doubt barged into my mind, reminding me of past failures.  Was this just another time to commit myself to something regarding food only to fail later?  Something inside me nudged back, something that was battling my self-doubt and I recognized it as the spirit of God.  

It said loud and clear:

“Do not be afraid of hunger.  You need to feel this.”

I knew I needed to fast, but the commitment felt like sugar running through my fingers.  In theory, fasting was a nice concept but actually playing it out wasn’t something I could do.  I couldn’t do it in the moment, let alone for 30 days.  I was in a kitchen full of food but there was nothing I could eat.  I had every food imaginable yet there I stood starving. 

“I’m starving,” I shouted in my mind when I felt the influence of someone.  It was a girl; a hungry girl.

I searched out this painting and the era of this beautiful girl somewhat resembled what I saw in my mind.

1800 Louis Leopold Boily (French painter, 1761-1845) Young Woman Ironing

Her presence came upon me quickly and there was an urgency to her arrival.  So insistent was she on gaining my attention, I spoke out loud to her.  “I know you’re here,” I said, startled I was speaking to a spirit.  So real was she, so very present was her influence I could see every detail.  In my mind I saw a tall blonde English girl with a light blue apron tied to her thin waist and a kerchief wrapped around her mousy blonde hair.  She was poor and desperate.  She was starving and through her expression and physical appearance, I could see her pain.

She needed to tell me something, but could only do it through prayer.  “Yes, I’m going,” I said kindly to her as I rushed in my room and fell to my knees.  She wanted me on my knees.  I understood and started crying because I knew she was hungry.  She’d been hungry for a long time and my own hunger became insignificant. 

“I’m sorry,” I said to her.  “I didn’t understand what it meant to be hungry.  I didn’t understand what you went through; what you suffered for me, for my mother and grandmothers.” 
            In my mind, she was holding a bucket and stood by a well.  She was worried and weak.  There was no other option for her and in my heart; I felt she knew her fate.  She wouldn’t make it.  She’d seen loved ones die; her pain had been real and great.  I imagined for a second what it must have been like to be literally starving when in my mind I saw myself attending a wedding reception.  Wearing a tight dress, I was uncomfortable because I’d eaten too much food.  Although I was too full to eat, I’d helped myself to a second piece of wedding cake.  Using my finger, I slopped a glob of frosting onto my tongue and quickly forced it down.  I didn’t take the time to taste it and wasn’t present enough to appreciate it, but I went and took another bite anyway.  Another smudge of frosting with another subconscious swallow and I had downed the entire cake.  With the presence of this starving ancestor watching me in her desperate condition, I felt sick. 

I’d been so selfish.  I was a selfish person who for years ate food without a thought to those who went without.  I thought I understood the poor, but I didn't.  Food, no matter the quantity, time of day, or needs of others was to be put in my mouth as fast as I could get it there?  When had that happened?  Why was I stuffing myself with food when others had little or none?  I felt like a drunken king with a greasy turkey leg and a dripping glass of wine all the while demanding more food.  How many plates had I filled with food only to later throw away?  Hundreds?  Thousands?  Such a pitiful act was not right.  I had no idea how hurtful this might be to someone who was starving.  There had to be some validation for those who went without. 

I needed to feel how my ancestors felt when they were starving. They were not able to self indulge every time they had a craving.  They had to work for what they ate and they had to feel hunger pains when there wasn’t any food. The experience made me so sick at myself, the very thought of food made me dry heave.  Never had the feeling of hunger screamed so loudly at me.

The message came clear as sunlight breaking through a rain cloud.  I needed to feel hunger.  I needed to feel comfortable being hungry.  Hunger need not rule me.  I was to rule hunger.  I had more power than hunger.  More importantly, I was to deeply feel the physical symptoms of hunger; the rumbling of the stomach, the fizz in the brain, the fatigue in the bones, the mental awareness that food was not an option – I needed to feel this for those who lived with hunger, those who died hungry – even starved to death.  I could feel them all around me.  I had ancestors in my genealogical line that had lived with hunger and had died because of it. They were with me.

  A starving girl in a house full of food knows she’s not really starving, she just thinks she is.  Through fasting, the suffering of others has become very real to me.  I fast for 16 – 18 hours and then get to eat, but some people go without food and are uncertain where their next meal will come from.  

Starving sisters sitting on the pavement in the Warsaw ghetto, Poland. The small girl died after one week

The picture was taken by Heinz ., a German soldier (Wehrmacht) posted in the Warsaw area in 1941.

Going without food is a humbling experience and for me, it’s a necessary reminder to pray for the poor, give a generous fast offering (money to help feed the poor) and be humble in the blessings I’ve been given.  

No longer do I say "I'm starving."  It's sacrilegious to those who truly are suffering.  Instead I say, "I'm hungry" or "I'm ready to eat." 

Intermittent fasting and prayer is the first time in my life eating has nothing to do with losing weight or body image.  It is about praying for others and having gratitude for the blessings in my life.  It is absolutely glorious.  I sing praises to the creator of the fast, it truly is inspiring.  

Easter 2016 and I've been practicing intermittent fasting for 80+ days.

Intermittent fasting - God is my sponsor; He holds me accountable.

It’s been almost 80 days since I started intermittent fasting and every day is a blessing.

(Canyon says "Hi.")

How did I get from there?

To here?

(Yes, I'm always wearing my baby.)

How did I go from discouraged and fat to liberated and on a path to healing and health?

I was absolutely certain I would never find anything that would help me take control of my body.

My life would be regret, denial and food.

I was going to have foot pain, back pain, belly fat and other obesity-related problems.

That’s how American’s age, right?

A few days ago while fasting, I was in the kitchen preparing a Sunday dinner for me and about 30 of my favorite people in the world.  I made homemade lemon bars, chocolate zucchini Texas sheet cake, chopping fruit, mixing salad and on and on.  Staring out my kitchen window, I had an epiphany. 

Why was I not tempted to eat even a morsel of all the food right in front of me? 

Food did not control me.

Food was the last thing from my mind.

I thought about this for a moment and reflected on diets of my past.  Food had always been a temptation for me.  I would sneak and deny.  Problem was, I was lying to myself.  Food was the reason I was overweight.  Sure, I’d been pregnant and gained weight, but ultimately food was my master.  I blamed it for so many of my problems.  I ate with resentment, always rushed, always wanting more.  I hated it, but didn’t have the slightest idea how to change.

The beauty of intermittent fasting and prayer is I became present.  No longer do I live in a state of either procrastination or rush.  The small pulses of hunger throughout the 16-hour daily experience (and I promise hunger can be empowering) are like little mental post-it notes; reminding me of how strong and blessed I am.  With prayer leading the way, I’m in a constant state of learning.  I talk to God throughout the day and it keeps the negative voices in my mind hushed. 

So while chopping fruit I decided to ask God, “Why am I not tempted to eat any of this food?” 

Before I share the answer, I must say my relationship with God has changed even more then my food habits.  My relationship with God is the primary reason I fast every day.  When I’m present, I recognize God in ways I’ve never experienced before.  Before fasting, I didn’t know God is always with me.  I didn’t feel worthy of such a gift.  God’s presence in my life had nothing to do with my worthiness, but everything to do with His love for me.  When I finally hushed my mental dialogue of negativity, I could hear God.

So, when I asked God, “Why am I not tempted to eat any of this food?”  His answer made me gasp out loud.

The answer was: I am your sponsor.  When you fast, I hold you accountable.  

When this amazing idea entered my mind, I literally giggled.  That happens a lot now.  My relationship with my Heavenly Father makes me smile and laugh and celebrate.  I talk to Him in the kitchen, on my afternoon runs and in my bedroom on my knees.  I love my time with Him.  Where I once felt shame, even put off praying because I lacked faith, I’ve become a daddy’s girl to Him.

I was in Sedona a few days ago walking in the canyon along a creek bed trail with my family. 

Late in the day, the counselor took the kids back to the car and I stayed to listen to the creek.  I loved the way water shimmered and carried on.  The rocks glistened with earth colors as the clear water rolled over them.  

I’ve always loved water and find it healing to my soul.  I was nearing the end of my 16-hour fast and decided to say a prayer.  I was praying that day for on of my hero’s Reggie Littlejohn, founder and president of Women’s Rights Without Frontiers, an international coalition to expose and oppose forced abortion, gendercide and sexual slavery in China.  I expressed my love for Reggie and prayed she would be blessed on her path.  The woman is unstoppable and has the courage of a lion.  I admire her greatly and see her as a role model for women.  

After my prayer, I started up the trail when something in my mind said “Ask God what He wants to say to you?”

“Ok,” I thought and walked back to the spot I’d just been praying.  I folded my arms and asked “God, what do you want to say to me?” 

At that moment, I turned my head ever so slightly when I saw something that took my breath away.

A water fall.

I’d been standing in that very spot for how long and hadn’t seen a water fall?  Buried in the ivy and camouflaged by a small crevice behind it, there it was. 

Again, I gasped out loud. 
Again, I giggled with pure delight. 

God is so present, He is always there and has so many beautiful things to teach and share.

I stared at the waterfall, knowing God had shown it to me.  God’s love filled my beating heart and hungry stomach.  It would be another hour or so before I ate.  God’s presence keeps me so full.  His glory is rich beyond measure.

Intermittent fasting and prayer is not about food, but about finding the best of life, the best of self and the absolute grace of God.

Despite all the this, despite the miracles and waterfalls, despite how far I've come, despite my desire to know and understand God I still have times I don't know what I'm doing.  I'm like a child who has been taught a lesson and the very next moment I need the lesson taught again.  I'm easily distracted by feelings of doubt and the difficulty of overcoming the odds.

I'm on a journey, a long journey of healing and health.  I will be fasting for a year.  This experience is fragile and to be handled with care.

I was out running yesterday, working through all my emotions when I told God I was scared.  It's still scary letting go, losing weight, writing, struggles with my kids, household demands and late-night baby snuggles that leave me sleep-deprived the next day.  I told God I was scared I couldn't do it and He told me it would be alright.  He would be with me.  He loves me.

My memoir Starving Girl - My 30-day Experience with the Miracle of Intermittent Fasting and Prayer is done, although I have major editing to do.  Here's a peak at my book cover.  

I'm so happy I wrote about my first 30-days of intermittent fasting.  I was on a roller coaster ride and I learned so much about hunger as a teacher, dieting is for victims, food addiction, living in the present, loving babies, overcoming sexual abuse and discovering God's grace.  In the next few weeks, Starving Girl will be up on Amazon and Kindle.