Fat Tuesday’s roots lie in the Christian calendar and is considered the “last hurrah” before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. That’s why New Orleans is a mecca for raucous behavior and uncensored debauchery on Fat Tuesday. All those party revelers know that the fun ends abruptly at midnight which is generally when the hangovers kick in followed by heaping helpings of guilt and shame.

The traditional purpose of Lent is the penitential preparation of the believer—through prayer, penance, repentance, and self-denial. Being raised in a traditional Catholic home, my siblings and I were encouraged to give something up in sacrifice during the period of Lent. Upon reflection, I’d wager my childish sacrifice of ice cream during the Lenten period had very little to do with penitential preparation, but was likely motivated by the scorn of the catechism nuns. Sister Mary Scary, the knuckle rapper didn’t take kindly to non-participants.

Personal sacrifice during Lent is something that’s stuck with me through the years and a practice I still observe. Over the years a typical Lent sacrifice for me generally included some sort of food or drink. The Diet Coke year was a particularly tough year as I used to be horribly addicted to diet soda, much like a nicotine or coffee addict. And of course any year that requires me sacrificially laying down my love for say – pizza, chocolate or sugar, well let’s just say those were years my immediate family members likely suffered nearly as much as I.

Back in the day, for me Fat Tuesday was all about pigging out on my favorite food like a grizzly bear preparing to hunker down for winter hibernation. My Fat Tuesday pig outs were legendary. With that kind of pre-Lent preparation, abstaining for 40 days became more about purging my body of the excesses of Fat Tuesday rather than sacrificial suffering or drawing closer to God. With that kind of “sacrifice” Easter Sunday became all about “catch-up” bingeing rather than an appreciation for what God had been trying to teach me during the preceding 40-day fast.

The past few years as my commitment to Christ has deepened, however, I’ve used the words of King David to guide me when making my decision regarding my Lenten sacrifice. But the king replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on buying it, for I will not present burnt offerings to the LORD my God that have cost me nothing.” (2 Samuel 24:24 NLT)

King David’s words remind us that giving without sacrifice isn’t really worth the effort and not really giving at all. For me to give up my something that I could do without anyway such as pizza or TV, really isn’t helping me to grow spiritually. However, when I choose to spend 40 days fasting from worry or negative self-talk, I know success can only be achieved through prayer, repentance and Scripture reading.

Fasting from lifelong bad habits or behaviors require much sacrifice on my part because those bad attitudes and behaviors have become part of my personality. My addiction to diet soda or The Housewives of Orange County … not so much. Those are acquired tastes, unlike my negative self-worth which is rooted and grounded in my emotionally abusive, dysfunctional childhood.

Maybe it’s just me, but the closer I get to God, the more I’m aware of my short-comings and how much I have yet to learn. For this reason, each Lenten season finds me with multiple choices regarding which bad habit or behavior to surrender for the 40-day period. Whether I give up my control issues, sacrifice my negative attitudes – or even surrender my unhealthy addiction to carbohydrates or processed foods, what is important for me, is to give something. Not because it’s a barbaric law of the church but because Father God gave so willingly to me (and to each and every one of us). I can’t repay God for His sacrifice, but I can evolve into a better human being … a better Christian, if I discipline myself to sacrifice for the purpose of self-discovery, repentance and a closer walk with the Father.

16 “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. 17 God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him.  John 3:16-17 (NLT)

The joyful news that He is risen does not change the contemporary world. Still before us lie work, discipline, sacrifice. But the fact of Easter gives us the spiritual power to do the work, accept the discipline, and make the sacrifice. ~Henry Knox Sherrill

Okay, yes it was a sad story, but for whatever reason, be it my age or those dang hormones again, I simply didn’t get it. I wasn’t buying the sensitive portrayal of the Hollywood beefcake eschewing romance and sappy repartee sugary enough for Hallmark greeting cards. I mean, really girls. It’s just a movie, not real life. Men like the one on the giant silver screen are only repeating lines written for them. They aren’t really like that – especially after years of marriage. Sadly though, I fear gullible young women are eating these lies up with big giant spoons – especially today as it’s Valentine’s Day.

Don’t get me wrong … it’s not like I’m immune to romance, it’s just that after 25 years of marriage to the same man, I define romance much differently now than I used to. When my husband and I were dating and even the first couple of years of marriage I used to believe in (and expect) candlelight dinners and flowers. But that was before kids, mortgage payments and real life brought me back down to Earth.

These days my idea of romance is getting up to find that my thoughtful husband has taken the time to unload the dishwasher for me before he left for work. Real romance is getting in my car and noticing that my husband has filled the gas tank and there’s a new sticker on the windshield letting me know that my car has had its 3,000 mile service inspection and necessary oil change. That to me says, “Honey, I love you and care enough about you that I don’t want you to run out of gas or have your car break down somewhere because it’s overdue for scheduled maintenance.”

I’ve never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day. To me it seems silly to set aside one specific day a year to declare your undying love for someone. If you have a special someone in your life you should be making the effort to tell them daily that you love them. If my husband is going to bring me flowers or a gift, I’d rather he did it spontaneously without there being a special day on the calendar set aside for love. For this reason, my husband and I rarely celebrate Valentine’s Day.

In order for a marriage to be mutually satisfying for longer than it takes a Hollywood blockbuster to pass through theaters and into DVD release, it’s gonna take a little bit of work – and not just on Valentine’s Day.  Marriage and love relationships are often times hardwork and fraught with an element of messiness and unpredictability.  Hollywood romantic comedies and love stories generally solve difficulties in the allotted 120 minute time frame so they can have a predictable happily ever after ending.

One of the most quoted scriptures at wedding ceremonies is still the best advice when it comes to relationships: 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)

Cut your spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend a break today if they don’t shower you with Valentine’s chocolates or flowers. Meditate on the truth that love is kind and does not keep a record of wrongs and choose to love them even though you feel slighted.  Real love isn’t about being showy one day a year it’s about showing love all year long … and not just to your significant other.

Valentine’s Day is about love and God tells us to ‘love our neighbors as ourselves.’ Be a Valentine today and tomorrow … and the next day … and the next day and every day that you’re able – because you can and because God loved us first and now it’s our turn.

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. 10 This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11 Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 12 No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. 1 John 4:9-12 (NIV)

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. ~Albert Einstein

This entire past year has been a fruitful year for me because you see, I’ve been pregnant; and not just normal human gestational pregnant for nine months, mind you. I’m talking giant mammal pregnant. Not quite elephant pregnant but close to walrus or whale pregnant; that’s roughly about 18-19 months in case you were wondering.

I’ve not been pregnant in the traditional sense of the word, but pregnant with a dream for the better part of the last two years. While this has not been a conventional pregnancy, it has nonetheless been fraught with the traditional pitfalls like cravings, psycho hormonal behavior and anxiety just the same.

My dream came to me more than a year and a half ago when God visited me in my sleep and gave me three very specific dreams while I slept. The three dreams were spread out over the course of three separate nights, but yet all the dreams were related and very detailed. I awoke from the third dream and received a directive from God that the theme of those three dreams was to be the subject for my next fiction novel. The message of the three dreams was a simple one: the power of a name.

Initially I scoffed at the idea as I was already busy with another writing project. But then, who was I to argue with God? Such a simple message, but yet I felt unqualified to tackle the project. My ever faithful God has spent the last year and half reminding me, there is power in the name and I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.

I spent the first six months and the last half of 2010 questioning whether I’d truly heard from God. My doubt was no match for God however, as He’d already done His part and impregnated me with the idea.

It took several months for me to accept that I’d been touched by God and several times before the end of 2010 I very nearly aborted the dream by trying to reason the impossibility of the task assigned to me. It wasn’t until early 2011 I made my resolution to dig in and finish what God started. The whole of this past year I made the decision to get serious about nurturing the baby I was growing.

… And so I wrote … and I wrote … and I wrote for all of 2011.

Now as 2011 comes to a close and I made it full-term with this pregnancy, it’s time to roll up my sleeves and expel this creative baby from its safe haven. The writing is finished; the editing nearly complete and I’m in full transition mode as I bear down and prepare to share my little bundle with the rest of the world.

Like every other new mother, I’m afraid to let my baby go for fear that the world, which can be such a cruel place, will ridicule my baby and not accept it for the beautiful work of art that it is. I’m looking forward to introducing my baby to the rest of the world in 2012. Look for The Name on your Kindle or Nook within the next few weeks and hopefully in print form in a few months.

For those of you who might like a sneak peak at my baby, here’s a quick look at The Name:

Born ten weeks prematurely, Kaydee James is a little girl whose very existence defies medical science. Kaydee survives against all odds in a decade where medical miracles aren’t a commonplace occurrence. The miracle child becomes the object of much concern and fascination once it’s discovered she possesses supernatural abilities allowing her to communicate with the Creator of the universe. Kaydee’s special gift allows her to avert natural disasters and battle against supernatural forces simply by calling on the Name of the Lord.

Kaydee’s older brother, John Jesse becomes the forgotten child living in his sister’s shadow. A sudden cross-country move finds his family unexpectedly thrust into a strange new life as farmers in the desert of Arizona. A series of tragedies and hardships force John Jesse to wage war against not only forces of nature, but unnatural powers of darkness seeking to extinguish the light of hope Kaydee’s gift brings to their small desert community.

The Name is a powerful story of good versus evil set against the backdrop of the wildness and beauty of the harsh southwest desert. It is a story to remind us all that big gifts come in small packages and contain immeasurable power when the driving force behind the gift is none other than the Lord Jesus Christ.

HAPPY NEW YEAR one and all! I can’t wait to see what the new year brings!

We’ve never gone more than a day or two without texting, emailing, instant messaging on Facebook or talking on the phone.  In fact, most days we talk or text frequently.  The next 10 weeks promises to be a bit of a challenge as she’s at a camp in the mountains where cell phone service is questionable and there is no free Wi-Fi.  

As we said good-bye this morning I found myself clinging to her a little longer than usual; putting my whole self into a hug that has to last us both 10 weeks.  My silent tears communicated a thousand unspoken messages, in spite of my best efforts to hide them.  I didn’t want to send her off under a cloud of my own personal fears and worries.  She’s a passionate, daring and adventurous young woman, yet she fought to maintain a brave façade in an attempt to disguise her underlying fear of stepping blindly into something new.   

Because she boarded an early morning flight at the crack of dawn this morning, I spent most of yesterday drilling her with the standard warnings of ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’ from The Mother’s Handbook and Big Book of Rules.  

You know the one I’m talking about, as you’ve either issued these warnings yourself or had them pounded into your brains from your own mothers.  It’s where things like never run with scissors or in the absence of toilet seat protectors in public restrooms, always paper the seat with toilet paper.   (Sorry, but that just makes good sense!) 

These little pearls of wisdom and common sense nuggets have been handed down from generations past from our ancestors and their ancestors before them.  These commands are generally issued with the standard finger waving inches from your nose and the mandatory eyebrow scrunch designed to strike fear in your adolescent brain.  (Oh wait; maybe that was just my mother!) 

 When I was on the receiving end of these wisdom appetizers I found them a little hard to chew on.  As a typical rebellious young girl, my reaction generally produced an eyeball roll so severe I’d swear I could actually see the inside of my skull and out the backside of my head.   So imagine my horror when yesterday I found myself issuing these stern warnings with the requisite finger waving and eyebrow scrunch and my daughter perfectly mimicked my severe eyeball roll in the back of her head!  

Good Lord … when did I morph into my own mother? 

As a mother, quite naturally we want only to protect our children.  What I realize now that I didn’t comprehend as a teenager, was mothers don’t really like having to be the purveyor of strict rules and regulations. The metamorphosis into motherhood just happens. 

Something mystical and unexplainable ignites deep within the female reproductive system that explodes during childbirth as babies are sluicing down the birth canal that dramatically alters our DNA.  That dormant mother bear protective gene which up until this point has lain sleeping somewhere between our uterus and our brains awakens and revs up rocketing from zero to sixty the second the fruit of our womb greets the world with its first cry.  

This phenomenon overtakes us causing to us to utter words we previously swore we’d never repeat when we became mothers.  Things like: because I said so; it’s for your own good; this hurts me more than it hurts you; wait till your father gets home; were you born in a barn or my all-time favorite classic stop eating that cookie dough – you’ll get worms!     

It’s likely my daughter hated the speech I gave her yesterday about wearing clean underwear in case the plane should crash.  But not nearly as much as she hated my dire warnings about not talking to strangers in the airport and be sure you’re not swayed by some handsome young guy you’ve just met who wants to give you a ride to camp.  Because after all, she’s a beautiful young woman and a prime target for perverts who want only to kidnap her and sell her as a sex slave in some third world country.  

Hey these things happen all the time and I want only to protect her!  Doesn’t she know that while she’s off having the time of her life working at a summer camp which basically translates to a vacation with pay, I’m at home imagining every worst case scenario ever conceived by womankind?  

No she doesn’t get it; the same way I didn’t get it when my mother issued similar warnings to me when as a 20 year old bride I wanted to move 3,000 miles away to the wilds of Alaska.  But someday when she’s a mother, she will get it and then she’ll understand that mother’s must say these things because not only is it imprinted in the fine print of every woman’s birth certificate – it’s in The Mother’s Handbook and Big Book of Rules.  

We have to let them go someday and it’s comforting to know that when they do leave they’ll have clean underwear on; they’ll steer clear of the perverts and they will always wash their hands after using the restroom!

The guy in the following video link isn’t a mother, but he’s a dad (which doesn’t come with the same handbook as a mother), but if you watch this video, I think you’ll agree he gets it; this whole parenting thing.  Not only does he get it — he says it far better than I ever could. 

Spoiler alert – be sure to grab the tissues when you watch this!

http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=KGWWWNNX

Judgment day and doomsday predictions are certainly nothing new as there’ve been untold prophecies for as far back as I can remember. In fact, the same guy who predicted the end of the world would occur September 1994, Harold Camping, is the one spearheading this latest EOTW prediction (based on mathematical equations hidden in the Bible).

When I heard my first end of the world prediction back in 1976 I was a brand new baby Christian. As a new believer those predictions scared the bejeebers out of me. I had too much living to do for me to jump on board with the impending destruction of all mankind.

Now that I’m a well-seasoned mature believer there’s a part of me that thinks bring it on Lord … beam me up Scotty … stick a fork in me, I’m done! Life can be exhausting some days and can seem overwhelming.  Sometimes it’d be nice to check out.

When I first heard this latest prediction for next week my first thought was I might as well have a piece of pie with my dinner (heck, maybe even two) because after next week none of it will matter anymore!

I think Erma Bombeck said it best: Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.

I’m not overly concerned about the predictions for next week’s worldwide demise for a couple of reasons. The Bible tells us no one knows the hour or the day (Mark 13:32-33). Jesus himself doesn’t even know the hour or the day. How can anyone hope to figure out the great mystery based on mathematical equations?

The main reason I’m not worried about when the world will come to a grinding halt is regardless of the hour, the day or the month it happens … I’m ready. I’m assured of my salvation and where I will spend my eternity. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow or if the Rapture happens next week, I’m ready.

Of course I continue to be concerned for unsaved friends and loved ones. I continue to pray for the salvation of the lost, but that doesn’t change my future. I’m ready.

I have a friend who puts a lot of faith in science rather than God. My statement to her has always remained the same: if you’re right and I’m wrong, when we die we simply cease to exist; return to nature and become worm food, we’ve lost nothing. But if you’re WRONG and I’M RIGHT, you’re in very big trouble.

If the Bible is to be believed (and I believe it is) when a non-believer dies they will face the judgment seat of Christ and have to account for their sins. If their name isn’t written in the Lambs Book of Life they will be cast into an eternal lake of fire. (Revelation 20:11-15)

Judgment day will eventually arrive for each of us. The mortality statistics remain high at 100%. The question is … are you ready? If you’re not sure about where you will spend your eternity, there’s no time like the present to get ready.

For me it’s not a tough choice … worm food, lake of fire or eternal life in a mansion with streets of gold and no more pain or sorrow (Revelation 21). Call me what you will but I’m ready either way. My ticket has been pre-punched because I’ve accepted Christ as my Savior.

If you find yourself unsure about your eternal future the only way to be sure you have a pre-punched ticket to Heaven is to admit you’re a sinner and invite Jesus into your life. It’s that simple.

Are you ready? The clock is ticking.

15 We tell you this directly from the Lord: We who are still living when the Lord returns will not meet him ahead of those who have died. 16 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. 17 Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Then we will be with the Lord forever. 18 So encourage each other with these words. 1 Thessalonians 4:15-18 (NLT)

Weave in faith and God will find the thread. ~Author Unknown

PRAYER FOR TODAY: Lord Jesus, I believe you are the Son of God. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins. Please forgive my sins and give me the gift of eternal life. I ask you in to my life and heart to be my Lord and Savior. I want to serve you always and be ready when the trumpet calls.  I ask all these things in your holy name, Lord Jesus. Amen.

I’ve gotten really good at telling people I weigh somewhere “in the neighborhood” of my driver’s license weight.  When in fact I’m so far from that neighborhood, not even an Eagle Scout with a golden compass, a high-end GPS system, and a printed Google map could help me find that neighborhood right now. Can you say denial?

What we weigh is such a personal, intimate detail most of us go to great lengths to keep that number a secret.    I’d rather have root canal surgery than share my real weight with anyone.  To this day – even my husband has no clue what I weigh.  (The poor guy totally buys that “neighborhood” theory.)

I should say no one knows my real weight … until my lunch last week.  My dear friend was telling me how good she thought I looked and I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.  Yes, it may be true I’ve lost a smattering of weight over the last few months, but I know I’m a long way from where I need to be.  A long, long way.

Honestly, I really am at that point where I couldn’t give a flying fart what other people think of the way I look – the fact of the matter is I’m at the intersection of   “Confidence & Fatigue.”  On one hand I admit I’m a full-figured woman and I’m okay with that — finally, while on the other hand I’m carrying around this full-figure full time and it’s is putting a lot of stress on my body and my joints and I’m exhausted.

As I was lunching with my very best friend, my Gertrude, I experienced a moment of weakness and was feeling that “confession is good for the soul” vibe.   

“Yeah well I may look good but I weigh one-hundred and blah-de blah blah pounds.”  I just blurted it out – no drum roll, pomp or circumstance, there it was … my number … my weight  … my humiliation.  And guess what? It felt really good to say it out loud and get it off my chest!  It felt even better that my friend didn’t laugh at me.   And then she did something truly amazing and confessed her weight OUT LOUD to me, but swore me to secrecy.  To my grave, I swear, no one will ever hear it from me!

The funny thing is the older you get (or the heavier you get) numbers, some numbers anyway, seem to lose their importance.  When my friend confessed her weight, my response was, “Gee, that’s not so bad.   If you went on The Biggest Loser they’d hate you because you were the little girl!”

It’s all relative. It’s just a number.  Now that I’ve confessed it out loud, the power that the number had over me has been broken.  It’s just a number and it does not control me.  

When we confess our shame and bring it out of the darkness Satan loses his power over us.  Confession really is good for the soul.  I feel 10 pounds lighter having finally admitted to another person what I weigh. 

Perhaps if I shared my weight on my blog, I’d really unburden my soul and feel 20 pounds lighter, but I’m not going to lie to you – I’m not that  secure– yet.  Maybe when I get back to my driver’s license weight I’ll come clean.  In the meantime, let’s just say I’m in the neighborhood!

It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere.  ~Agnes Repplier

¹² It is shameful even to talk about the things that ungodly people do in secret. ¹³ But their evil intentions will be exposed when the light shines on them, ¹⁴ for the light makes everything visible. This is why it is said, “Awake, O sleeper, rise up from the dead, and Christ will give you light.” Ephesians 5:12-14 (NLT)

PRAYER FOR TODAY:Thank you Lord Jesus for the freedom you’ve blessed me with to simply be myself and to know with certainty — that is good enough for you, whatever I weigh.  All praise be to you, Father God in Heaven.  Amen.

I’m not going to lie to you – after completing my personal challenge to blog every single day for one whole year in 2010, I actually enjoyed having a bit of a break from the daily rigors of blogging.  Believe it or not, blogging every single day for one whole year is much harder than you can imagine.  It’s tough to be witty, creative or inspirational every single day.  I can promise I won’t be repeating that challenge, but I hope to be able to blog on a semi-regular basis from here on out.  Perhaps not daily, maybe not even weekly, but I’m willing to commit to regularly.

The last few months being blogless has provided a much needed menal health vacation that I’ve enjoyed in part, but I miss squeezing my creative juices.  I’ve missed that little nagging voice in my head reminding me that I’ve got a goal to meet; a promise to keep  and words in my head and my heart that must find a voice.  A warped sense of humor like mine needs an outlet to share my dieting challenges, my spiritual awakenings and those occasional epiphanies that God occasionally sees fit to enlighten me with.   

Last year’s Diet Nuggets and Wisdom Appetizers gained quite a following from people all over the world who commented on my website frequently.  I’ve missed reading the varied comments and hope to hear from you all again.  So … here I go ready or not.  I’m back in the saddle and ready to enlighten you, make you think and hopefully provide a few laughs along the way. 

I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I hope you’ve not forgotten me.  I hope you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you!

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; ⁶ in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.  Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

Laughter is an instant vacation.  ~Milton Berle