Over the weekend I lost weight; but not in a healthy way. I had a looong weekend, and couldn’t bring myself to post anything. The Husband gave me some news that has absolutely shattered my life. I’m not ready to share, because I can’t bring myself to say it. I think eventually it will help to post it here, but not yet. I don’t have any friends or family I can turn to for comfort in this situation; but I can turn to God.
Because I didn’t eat much this weekend, I’m 219 lbs today. For once, I’m not happy with my weight loss. Or with anything. It’s like I was swallowed up by this terrible black hole. He won’t even look at me; every time someone has said so much as a “hello” this morning to me, I tear up and have to escape. And I don’t really see an end in sight. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus. It took everything in me to drag myself out of bed this morning and get showered and dressed, then get in the car and ride in silence with him until we got to the office, where he dropped me off. I’m trying to meditate on two things. The first:
A psalm of David.
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, [a] I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,When sorrows like sea billows roll;Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, with my soul,It is well, with my soul,It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,Let this blest assurance control,That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!My sin, not in part but the whole,Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:If Jordan above me shall roll,No pang shall be mine, for in death as in lifeThou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,The sky, not the grave, is our goal;Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,Even so, it is well with my soul.