Trying again

This blog thing is funky, because realizing that anybody is reading threatens the integrity of writing for my own sake. I write because it is good for me to write. It helps me think, helps me process, helps me work through things. This is a post like that, so feel very free to not read it.

Today was my first day of trying again to be a healthier me. I ate in a pretty healthy way. Maybe a few extra bites of trail mix, but other than that, I did well. I drank plenty of water and ate what my body needed. No comfort food.

So I'm feeling rather uncomfortable. Empty. Sad. Sometime soon I will feel strong. But not now. I feel weak.

I just went and played my freshly tuned piano (first time in at least 4 years) while my husband and children listened. Most of my kids haven't heard me really play. So tonight I played Mozart, Beethovan, Bach, and Keith Green's Prodigal Son Suite.

It helped.

It helped to play the music I played when I was young and strong and confident. I can't go back to being twenty. But I can pursue the better version of me, that is healthy, strong, dare I say disciplined.

My piano was full of dust, dice, a match box car, and a number of other bonus features. The piano tuner completely dismantled it. It was fascinating. And I have to say I had no idea how bad it sounded. Until she was done. And I nearly cried. It was beautiful. It played the way it was meant to play.

I guess that is what I need. A complete dismantling, cleaning, tuning, retuning, oiling, fixing. This season I feel a little dismantled. That's okay, but I've been leaning hard on the comfort foods. And now that's gone. And that's hard. I know I need to learn to lean on my Beloved, on Jesus . . . finding more power than I'd ever dream. But tonight a handful of chocolate chips sounds ever so much more appealing.