Raindrops in the Ocean

In the grocery store, a box of Kashi caught my eye as I passed.  I don’t go down the cereal aisle anymore.  It is rare that I stray from the vegetables and meat.  For some reason, seeing that Cheerio colored heart on the front of the box took me back to the beginning of my journey toward health, the beginning of my journey to my own heart.

In those days I could go days without eating and not even realize it.

I could also eat a gallon of Chex “Puppy Chow” without realizing.

I hated my body and punished myself by not eating.  I don’t mean to be dramatic.  It wasn’t pretty.  Before I could begin to start eating right, I had to recognize the beliefs fueling my actions.

And I had to decide I was worth taking care of.

I had a little bowl, in which I ate the little heart-shaped Kashi every morning.  I remember sitting in my morning chair with my Bible, journal, and those little hearts.  Slowly I allowed God into those beliefs, allowed Him to change me.

And I always carried a box with me, just in case.  Back then it was a new habit–one more thing to remember–and it took a tremendous amount of effort.  Now I see how monumental those daily acts were, making sure I had something healthy to eat, just in case.  It was a choice to take care of this life–and this body–that God has given me.

My choices have changed the more I have learned about taking care of my body.  I am still learning, and I am grateful. Tonight I am grateful for those early days, and those staples in my diet that I would never eat now (soy, anyone?).  Each vigilant new habit was a stake in the ground, claiming the foundations of the life I have now.