If The Shoe Doesn't Fit:: Forward

Adopting with the Lord's Blessing

Father to the fatherless, defender of widows--this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families.
Psalms 68:5-6

You are the helper of the fatherless LORD, You have heard the desire of the humble; You will prepare their heart; You will cause Your ear to hear, to do justice to the fatherless and the oppressed, that the man of the earth may oppress no more.
Psalms 10:14, 17-18

In you the orphan finds mercy.
Hosea 14:3

For as many as are led by the Spirit of Go, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, "Abba, Father."
Romans 8:14-16

Monday, December 21, 2009

Forward

You are about to read the story of a morbidly obese woman as told from her perspective. This is my story and mine alone. I promise, if nothing else, to be completely candid about all aspects of dying from morbid obesity. A lot of what you will read here will be embarassing for me. Some of the commentary may make you cringe, look away, thank God that you were blessed with a high metabolism, but whatever you feel while reading this, know that I am speaking to you for a reason.

Almost all of us has a morbidly obese friend or family member. And if you think about your family and friends and can't think of who that person is, quite possibly that person is you. Often you may wonder just what to say in your efforts to help that friend or family member realize that he or she is killing him/herself. You might even look him/her directly in the eyes and say, "Don't you realize you're killing yourself?"

Please, don't do that. It only makes the situation worse. But it's okay if you didn't know that. It is that reason that I'm writing this blook (my word for a blog turned book.)

I will be writing this as I begin my journey to save my own life. I'm dying every day. Everyday a little bit of the person I used to be or wanted to be dies and I'm desperately doing CPR trying to revive her. I don't want to die. I'm not on a suicide mission. I'm just a woman who was dealt a difficult metabolic hand, but I keep asking for the dealer to "hit me" because I know that there is an Ace in the deck somewhere. Until then, I have a hand full of cards that must be read in order to save my life.

Please note that all material found on this blog, unless otherwise noted, is strictly the intellectual property of the author and can not be reproduced in whole or in part without expressed written permission from the author.

Furthermore, while I am writing about my life as candidly as possible, I reserve the right to change the names and locations to protect those who may not wish to be as candid. I; however, will face the music with my full name and photo when I'm feeling brave enough.