The Best Kind of Full

In my last post, I was planning how to celebrate the Lean in 13 program being over. I was looking forward to eating a bit more normally again, a bit less restricted. I was getting tired of being hungry and I wanted to just feel "full" again.

My plans went out the window.

This past week has been a rough one. My larger-than-life father-in-law passed away early Monday morning, after 89 extraordinary, adventure-filled years on this earth. Hospice had told us a week prior that we were in the final stretch and that meant all schedules, plans, intentions, and any sense of "normal" were tossed into the breeze as we did our best to help him make his final journey home.

Good eating? Only if you call pizza, Christmas cookies and thrown-together-meals-on-the-fly good. Normal exercise schedule? Not a top priority. Sleep? Umm, no, even if it wasn't my turn on the night shift. The stress of the situation didn't allow for real rest.

And once we had said our goodbyes, there was still more to do. Making arrangements, getting things ready for the funeral, lots of tears, more fitful sleep, trying to make sure everyone is OK. Again, the Christmas cookies and snacks were convenient, but  not fulfilling. I found myself eating ... a lot ... and never getting the satisfaction I had been dreaming of when my stomach was growling during Lean in 13.

Of course, you and I both know what the problem was. I wasn't going to find what I was looking for in a bag of potato chips.

As I sat in church on Christmas Eve, I finally understood what it means to be truly full.

Full of the love that sustains me. My family now fills an entire pew and as the people I love most in the world, they fill my heart with support, acceptance and strength. Those things provide the foundation I need to withstand any storm.

Full of the spirit that guides me. My daughter picks on me every time we're in church because I always cry. My home church is such a wonderful place. It's the one place I feel truly connected to me ... the real me ... and it fills me with warmth and golden light. Sounds corny, maybe, but it's true.

Full of the hope that encourages me. The world can be a not-so-nice place. But when I'm surrounded by people who believe in a greater good, people who acknowledge their blessings and share their joy, I can't help but trust that there is more good to come.

Full of the peace that settles me. Yes, this is a very sad time for my husband and our family. We are going to miss a great man terribly. Life will never be the same. But I am reminded how lucky we were to love him and be loved by him. As I sit in that pew, I know deep down in my heart that we will all be OK because that is the promise that has been made to us.

You can't get that kind of full with gingerbread men.