Prospective

Time offers a masterful prospective. Eight years ago this summer I found myself on the park stage crowned Queen of the Bristol Homecoming. Last year I had the privilege of serving as a judge for the contest, and tonight served as a interview coach. I gave them several tips about body language, pausing before speaking, and other interview skills. I then did a short mock interview with each of them.

Eight years is not that long in the span of 80. It makes, however, all the difference between 19 and 27. I found myself for the first time tonight sitting on the other side - asking the questions, extending a comment to graciously prod them into a deeper response, and then offering suggestions. How did I get in the position to offer suggestions? I seems I have. I wonder how this sneaks up on a person. How is it that I have gained enough professional expertise and speaking skills to prove useful in this area?

I had this same realization just this past week at a meeting in Dearborn, MI where I spoke before a panel, and then before the larger (75 people) congregation. It flowed naturally, and it triggered in my mind old, old memories of Ball State where I sat on the Executive Committee for a student organization. How could I have imagined then what that work would prepare me for later? Just as when that crown was placed on top my head, how could I have foreseen the most rewarding benefit of all -- helping the younger girls of a community I love so much.

Interviewing them also makes me think back on the many "me's" I have shed along the way to who I am now. I see the girls there, in that first fledging form. Interestingly, the ones who do not fear constructive criticism are the most introspective and the ones who realize they are but one small part of the universe and not it's sun.

I saw tonight the true beautiful of the person who honestly says, "what can I do better?" So much more is received when more is given. It is a happy obligation -- but obligation it is -- to help a younger generation. How rewarding it is when they listen! Yes, we cannot understand how God uses us, but surely he does. Was there any more proof of a master plan than what I observed tonight?

He is The Beautiful Architect.

Hope

It is a powerful thing to observe Hope--to see if shift, shape, and lift a person. I have the privilege to witnesses this time and again at Weight Watchers. As a Weight Watchers Leader, I witness the transformation of countless individuals on their journey toward self respect. I believe in the dignity and potential of every individual -- I believe in the sanctity of human life -- that is why each Tuesday at 5:30 and Saturday at 9am and 11am are my favorite days of my week. At those times I see concentrated Hope.

To me Weight Watchers is about more than counting points and portions. It is about taking control of what really matters - because Life is much more than Food. When we master our intake, however, we master so much more. Self respect can sometimes come at a high price - especially because so many of us wait until the very last moment to get help. We're a strong and independent people and it is hard to say, "help me."

But, when we do, we grow. And when we are open to new ideas and information, we inch closer to that which we believe we can be. And that is the American Dream. Not cars, nor homes, or other material things. Being Free is a universal banner -- Free to be ourselves, free to think, breathe, pray, dream. Free even to fail, and try, try again.

At Weight Watchers I see weight literally and figuratively lifted from people. I see them change -- I see them glow. Sometimes I do not see the physical weight come off - because quite honestly I see all people in love when they walk through the door. I see them through a sense of compassion and friendship - I don't really see their weight. Then, so often, I will be weighing them in at the beginning of the meeting to find they have lost 23, 56, 77 lbs. I will stare up at them in disbelief and say, "really?" I see only their smiles-- on the meek and the bold. I see them care about themselves again; I see self-love.

This was God's plan for us--not wandering despair and hopelessness. There is a higher plan. That plan includes feeling satisfied with our achievement, self growth, and encouragement to the other. I don't think we really grow unless we help someone else to.

Yes, every week I see more than 100 people put on hope. I see them walk through the door. Sometimes they are fighting a deep, internal battle -- other times they yell in victory. They are not overcoming vices really -- merely championing what's best in them. We all have something to give -- from the 10 year old to the 82 year old at Weight Watchers -- in life. We all have something to give. Hope, fulfillment and encouragement are what we deserve.

Yes, hope is a vehicle to our destiny.

Everything in Moderation

If you know anything about labs, you know their every move is motivated by food: there desire for it, their proximity to it, and the minutes until their next meal. My dogs know a few words like "here," "sit," "stay," and "DINNER."

Labs are known for their "people dog” qualities, meaning they like being around their owners and try to please then. They will often follow you from room to room. However, all of this is forgotten when any hope of food is near - and all their best intentions for good behavior go out the window.

Case in point:

One day when I was gone Molly learned how to open the lazy-susan cabinet in my kitchen. What did I keep in said cabinet? Ziploc bags, vegetable oil, and about 4 sticks of Crisco. I think Molly must have started innocently enough-- "oh wow, look! If I keep pushing this wood thing, it swings!" Then I think she caught a glimpse of something new to put into her mouth - aka Ziploc. Then, duh duh duh, she caught a sniff of the Crisco.

I found out the hard way that, like many of us, Molly loves Fat - specifically Crisco. When I came home, I found the following: the entire kitchen, dining room, and living room littered with torn up Ziplocs. A half-empty large bottle of vegetable oil laying sideways on the living room floor, with the remainder of it's contents soaking into the floor boards. Two untouched Crisco bars laid with the remains of one wrapper by the TV stand. Molly lying on one side as close to the sofa as possible with a maddened look in her eye. And then, as the shock finally settled on my face in that "oh my GOD" position - I saw it....the front end of my sofa...everywhere. Apparently one of the Crisco bars had squirted under the sofa and Molly lost interest in everything else -- can't you just see the thought process "must Have CRISCO!" She destroyed the front part of the coach in her desperate attempt to get her treat.

Then, when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I saw it. The 1/2 ton TUB of lard (well, it seems like a 1/2 ton at the time), sitting straight up by the front door. I'm not sure how I ever came to own a LARGE TUB of Crisco - but I did. And evidently I stored it in the very BACK of the lazy-susan. I picked it up and found it had been licked down to the bottom.

The next week Molly had a VERY shiny coat.

Life lesson: move all edible objects to higher, less accessible levels. Know that Labs love “the good stuff” just as much as we do. And realize that sometimes we can get just a one-track mind as Molly did that day – too much of a “good” thing is bad. EVERYTHING is best in moderation – especially Crisco.

Post note: for all you dog lovers –the vet was called, and Molly survived. She didn’t even seem to notice. As a preventative measure, she was on a special non-fat diet for 4 days after that. I had to cook her lean meats!

Remind me to tell you of the time Wrigley consumed 1/2 a box of "sugar in the raw" with Molly's help. That went just as well. Wow, Molly does have a sweet tooth.