Excessively Moderate

This is Natasha when she was probably 6.
 I have waited  months to get this picture out of storage.

"Moderation in all things, including moderation."
            Petronius




I have not been keeping up with my calorie counting.  (~_~;)    The good news is that I have not gained any weight.  I have been using the Fatsecret calorie counting app on my phone to keep track of my daily intake. Everyday I commit to starting tomorrow.

I had complained of shortness of breath at my last follow-up, so my doctor ordered a cardiac workup.   I got the results last week:  My beat is fine, but there is a slight problem with the "relaxation" part.  My doctor says it is nothing to worry about, cardiologists just like to say "Diastolic dysfunction." (actually, it is fun to say)   I guess I am fine with getting up for the downstroke, but a little trouble getting down for the upstroke.

I think something  may be wrong with me because the events of the last two years have not made me question the existence of God.  I don't blame Him for my illness or for Natasha's death.  I do give credit to God for my recovery, and should Natasha  come back to life, I will consider doing the same there.

I have to ask, is where does God fit into my beliefs?  He is clearly NOT the one of my childhood prayers, the one whose blessings I am grateful for, no matter how they appear.  Nor is He the one of my adult prayers who will supernaturally protect me and my loved ones, while simultaneously making me a better Christian.

If my faith in God were based on His works in my life, does the fact that my daughter is dead trump my recovery?  Is it time to put God and Jesus with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, more characters invented to explain the holidays?

I still consider myself to be a Christian, but I am learning that I don't really know what that means and also I am learning that God is not who or what I thought He or it was.  I felt His presence when I was sickest through the doctors, nurses, and other professionals who tried to heal me and care for me when I couldn't./

When Natasha died, I didn't feel it; there was no around the clock care, no-one came into my room everyhour to see if I was sleeping or if I needed something.  Yes, there were cards and calls, but it has been months since anyone sent a card and no-one ever asks me if I am sleeping alright.

Well, Alanon teaches me that our high powers will only give us what we need, when we need it and no extra and no sooner than that.

I have felt my spiritual life has been lagging alot.  A friend recently told me that I am hiding my face from God.  She could be right.  To counter that, I have thrown myself into UMC life at Pitman Park: two Bible studies, a Tuesday morning Men's prayer meeting (when I am not sitting in a doctor's office), Wednesday night community suppers, plus church and a Sunday school class.  I have also started a plan to read the Bible in a year.

I am someone that people could point at and say I am avoiding my grief by throwing myself into a religious life like some sort of self-flagellating (is that redundant?) fanatic.  Maybe that is true, although I have always sought to follow the philosophy of moderation in all things, even the things that I am enthusiastic about.

Getting active in a local church has really boosted my moral.  I feel, emotionally, better than I have in months.   One thing I have learned is that I really don't know much about who God is.  I am guilty of living life as a "fuzzy" Christian.  Being such, I was certain that God is alright with my apathetic witness.  I discovered that I was not fine with it because I wasn't being spiritually nourished.

I feel like this is not done, but I am going to publish it anyway because perhaps letting it go will help me later on.