The Secret to Hot Monogamy

Red Hot Mommas and Red Hot Daddies aren’t always, well.. um..RED HOT.  It happens. To the best of us. Work, stress, money, lack of money, bills, extended family issues and children- they all can culminate in a complete theft of ones libido. Or worse yet, the loss of both libidos. 

No one sees it coming.  It just happens.  Slowly.  Insidiously.  We get too tired or mad to keep making much of an effort anymore.  Tragedy strikes or an extended illness sets up shop in your home.  Surviving takes precidence over romance.  If this is where you are at in your marriage I say to you, “Welcome Friend! You are normal. It happens.  Now do something about it.”   

Before you haul out the Victoria’s Secret catalog, I want to tell you something.  Lingerie won’t work.  In fact you could both wear it at the same time, if that is how you roll.  No judgement. It still won’t work.  It might seem to for a while, but it’s just a quick fix.  Not a cure. Quicker than you can max out your credit card- you’re back in the same boring boat.

So what is the secret to staying HOT?  Ready?  Brace yourselves!  The secret to an incredible sex life is…PRAYER!  Wait a minute!  Who groaned?   I am serious.  In fact I am not only a member of the Bedroom Prayer Club- I am also a customer!  (Just a little Hair Club for Men Joke)  So are my friends!

I have seen first hand the power of prayer turn friends marriages from “roomate” status to “Honeymooners” almost over night.  Issues that couples had struggled with a few months, some even for many years, were no match for the earnest prayer of spouses.  In fact, usually it was only one spouse who was willing to put their marriage into God’s hands.  Marriages that were once teetering on the brink of divorce have become passionate and functional. 

I know some of you out there are a little bit freaked out right now.  It’s okay.  Breathe.  God loves you.  Every single part of you.  There is nothing going on in your life or bed that he doesn’t care about.  I mean, HE knows what you need better than you do.  Trust HIM with this area of your life too.  You have nothing to loose.  Everything to gain.

It’s Coming

It’s coming people.  Valentine’s Day.  The most disturbing and disappointing of all holidays.  If you are a super romantic spouse, if you live for Valentine’s Day, if you cannot understand why everyone doesn’t embrace this day as slightly less important than Christmas with the family- you are excused from reading any further. Go, please, spread you good cheer and good will elsewhere! 🙂

Surprised to hear a Red Hot Momma dissing V-Day?

Let me tell you something.  Valentine’s Day is a great idea, in theory.  Take an official time out of our busy, less than romantic lives to tell others we love them.  Show in deeds, not just words, that we care about each other. Do something that makes our spouses sit down and say “Yes.  There it is! The reason I wanted to get married to this person in the first place!”

The reality is far more grim.  More hard feelings and strife results from this holiday than any other! Especially with in the confines of Holy Matrimony.  Okay, I admit that I don’t have any hard data to back that up.  But I have lots of experiential data that proves this day is a disaster waiting to happen.  And it happens every year! 

Now before I go all Chicken Little on you, I have to say that not every couple is Valentine’s Day impaired.  There are many, many of you out there.  God bless your souls! Because I occasionally hear stories about you all.  Usually just before I flip the channel or change the radio station.  Kidding! 

I am going to go out on a limb and say that most of us are VD Impaired.  Not because we want to be handicapped in this area.  We just are. We have tried.  Disappointed or spouses and ourselves so thoroughly, that we just want to hide under the covers until the day passes.  So, if you have set out to woo your spouse and have failed, miserably, time and time again-  I say loudly to you “Welcome Friend”. 

I am the first to admit that I have held too high expectations for my spouse.  And myself.  I have believed the lie that if we really love one another, we will have a fairy tale day! ( Darn it! ) Pressure! Pressure!  Whisk your spouse off to an exotic island.  Cover the bedroom in rose petals.  Drop thirty five pounds and slither into some bizarre looking lingerie. And on and on….

I have spent many hours pouring over sugary sweet cards that ended up on his dresser, after a quick perusal.  He has brought me candy that I didn’t need, flowers that died almost as soon as they were transported through our front door.  We have waited two hours in frigid temps to dine out because, after all, it’s Valentine’s Day!  

Perhaps Mr. Red Hot’s fear and dread of the day has spread to me.  But before we write off my loathing of the execution of this holiday, I humbly ask how many disaster stories do you personally have? If you don’t have any, just ask around.  “What was your worst Valentine’s Day ever?’  I am going to bet that you will barely get the words out before the cringe worthy answer is blasted back at you. 

A note of sympathy.  I feel extremely sorry for anyone who is single AND “currently looking” on VD.  It is comparable to being forced to wear a scarlet “S” to denote that you, indeed, are un-coupled.  To be single on the most romantic day of the year is simply dreadful by the Hallmark standard.  “Here you go.  Poor thing.  Take your hump and limp up to the bell tower with the rest of the unfortunate souls…”.  The pressure and expectation is just ridiculous.  It is just a day on the calendar.  Not a judgement of character.  I suggest ignoring the hoop la.  Or better yet do something nice for yourself.

Well.  I suppose I will get off my soap box now.  I have work to do and of course, Valentine’s cards to buy. 🙂

An Open letter to new gym members

Hi.  You don’t know me and I don’t know you.  Still, I have been watching you. 

Not in a creepy way!  Just noticing you and praying for you.  See, I know how hard it is to walk into a gym.  Everybody looks like the cover models for Men’s Health or Women’s Fitness.  TTTH.  Tanned. Toned. Totally hot.  It is enough to make even the most confident among us hide in the locker room.

I am going to tell you a secret. The hardest part of working out is wading through the masses of beautiful people.  A word of caution- don’t gaze upon their beauty to long.  You might start feeling inferior.  Just hold your head up high.  Look straight ahead and walk to the machine you have chosen. 

Ask for help when you need it.  You actually draw more attention to yourself trying to wing it on your own.  In the off chance that you fall off the rowing machine, just remember to laugh.  Roll over.  Get back up and try it again. Next time use those foot straps.  That is what they are for. 

Some folks might be snotty. Hostile even.  As though you are Satan himself because you are on “their” treadmill.  People get weird about that kind of thing.  They spend a lot of time on a machine.  Sweating, praying. A kind of relationship develops. The person wants it to be exclusive, not realizing the machine is just doing it’s job.  Nothing personal.  So when Mr. Biceps or Miss Ab’s see you on “their” machine, it is only natural they feel irritated. Don’t take it personally. In a few months from now you may be having a one-sided relationship of your own.

Stop pulling on your clothes dear.  It makes you stand out.  Wear clothes that fit.  Not clothes you wish would fit.  Trust me.  You will feel better if you can move in your pants.  Same with shirt.  A misguided error of those who weigh more than average is that by wearing form fitting clothing one looks smaller.  It’s a myth.  I know.  🙂  Pick nice clothes that are flattering on you.  Not the “Biggest Loser Fantasy” you.

Remember, it isn’t high school.  It’s a gym.  You are there to work out.  Not to be “seen”.  No one is looking at you.  They are busy.  Working out and worrying if someone is looking at them.  🙂

Don’t be a hater.  Yes there are incredible humans crawling all over the gym.  Gorgeous.  A few were born with it.  Most have worked for it.  Be happy for them.  If you can’t be gracious on your own, pray for God to help you. 

Don’t envy.  Thou shall not covet the neighbors pec’s.  Nor glutes.  Nor ab’s.  Focus on being healthy.  Not looking like _____.  You are not a number on a scale.  Your life in not measured by inches lost or gained.  You are God’s beloved creation.  His masterpiece. 

Keep coming.  In a few weeks, you will be sore.  Maybe a little or a lot discouraged. Not to mention the droning questions from well meaning, and not so well meaning, friends and family members.  For some reason, when people find out you go to a gym, they always ask the same question- “How much weight have you lost?” As though, just by signing the contract you automatically loose five pounds as a bonus!

Don’t slap them.  I know it would feel really good, but don’t. Pity them instead.  They have bought into our culture’s obsession with numbers.  Which is ridiculous and dangerous.  Take a deep breath and say “I am focused on being healthy.  Not numbers.”  It is okay to sound a little superior when you say this.  You have my permission.  This will either end or seriously curb their obsession with your progress. 

The most important thing  to remember is to be grateful.  Thank God you can move.  Pray as you run.  Exercise can be a spiritual discipline.  A chance to be mentally quiet and still while moving.  Worship.

From Surviving to Thriving

The further I make it in life, the more aware I become of how much my body has to say.  The words and emotions that I chose not to express find a way to make themselves heard.  One way or another.  My body speaks what is on my mind.

Some women are so in tune with their bodies that the above statement would seem ridiculously obvious.  But this Red Hot Momma was not raised to honor her body.  Let alone listen to what it was saying.  I was raised in an environment where body hate was the norm.  Even encouraged.  Subsequently, I abused my body in various ways.  From depriving it of food to over feeding my body.  Ignoring its pleas for rest.  Quiet times and exercise. 

Lax boundaries and emotional abuse from those I felt unable to stand up to culminated in weight gain, insomnia, hormone imbalances, panic attacks and ultimately, depression.  I found myself an emotional and physical wreck. My body was screaming out to me. Pleading with me to tune in but I did my best to ignore it.  Until, I was too sick to fight what it was so desperately trying to tell me. I had two choices: Listen and change or die.

I chose change.  As I began to recover from a series of life threatening illnesses, God began to open my eyes to the lies I had believed about this body I inhabit. HE replaced ugliness, disgust and guilt with beauty and truth.  HE showed me I was made in the image of the Creator of the Universe.  My body is beautiful and honorable.  My body is holy.  The temple God has chosen to indwell.  It is worthy of respect, honor and love.  It is not to be starved, carved or denigrated.  I am to care for it out loving respect for the Father and myself.  Not guilt or vanity. Out of love. 

So here I am at 32 feeling childlike delight in my body.  Joy at my ability to do three times as many push ups this month as last.  Wonder at my muscles ability to move my body in ways that were not even imaginable last year.  Excited to break out into a run and not care if anyone is watching. Instead of berating myself for the abuse I have endured and heaped on myself, I choose forgiveness of others.  Most importantly myself.  My favorite quote from Maya Angelou sums up how I view my past, “You did what you knew how to do, and when you knew better, you did better.”

I now feel safe to care for myself. After being told my whole life that being kind to myself would make me selfish, I am finding the exact opposite.  Loving myself makes me able to love others. Admitting I am weak has made me stronger.  Facing conflict instead of running away brings peace. Confidence. Health.  Regardless of the emotional crap that is heaved my direction, I am not backing down. The Father has blessed me with free will and I will not hand it over to anyone. Ever again.  I own my own space. Without apology.  For the first time in my whole life.  My body cannot help but glow with this knowledge.

Tales From the gym

Red Hot Momma’s are always being confronted with new situations.  We assess the situation and make adjustments where needed.  We find a way to make things work.  I dare say problem solving is the Red Hot’s best skill. 

But…(and isn’t there always a “but”) even we have our moments of where we just want to run hide in the closet.  I think that going to the gym is one of the most trying times in a woman’s life.  Most of us spend way too long in the restroom, tugging and stretching on our workout clothes.  Psyching ourselves up to walk into a hotbed of beautiful, toned, tanned bodies.  (Can I get an Amen?)  It takes great courage to take our fluffier selves into the middle of what appears to be a super model photo shoot everyday. 

This Red Hot Momma pumps her music really loud in her ears, closes her eyes, and asks the LORD to give her the courage and strength to do what she needs to do today.  She also gives herself a pep talk.  Mrs. Red Hot says things like “This is about you.  Not them.  Yes they are beautiful.  So are you.  GOD loves you all equally.  You can do it!  You are worth the effort!”.

Once immersed in our own fitness routine, our confidence returns.  We are worth it!  We feel awesome!  Look out world!  Until a size 1 woman, who happens to be our age, sits down on the machine beside us.  She is fabulous looking and blowing us a way on the rowing machine. 

 Red Hot Momma’s are tempted to feel jealous.  This is where the rubber meets the road of Christianity.  We capture the thought and dissect it.  Often at the root of jealousy is fear.  Fear that we do not measure up. Pardon the pun.  Fear that maybe the world is right, our value lies in our looks and we will never be enough.  Fear that we lack something that every other woman has or has figured out how to get.

So if anyone out there can relate, here is a simple soulution.  Pray.  Pray for GOD to change our heart.  Pray for Miss Size 1.  She needs prayers too. Chances are she is feeling just as inadequate as we are in some area.  

 Ask the LORD to remind us we are all on the same team.  Fighting the real enemy, the world and it’s master, not one another.  Carry this truth with you today, Red Hot Momma.  You are loved by the King.  He thinks you are beautiful.  Just the way you are, right now.  So do I.

The Power of One

I am going to go out on a limb here with the following statement.  I think most of us drag around some toxic baggage from our parents.  It could be a negative perspective, self defeating thought patterns or a tendency to abuse our bodies. 

Often when we see these unhealthy habits in our own lives, we can trace them back generations in our families.  For example, you hate your body….Your mom was always on a diet…Your grandma always complained about the size of her rear end….and so it goes. It is obvious that a change must come.  But there is so much dysfunction, where do we begin?   

If you struggle with “inherited” bagage.  Behaviors you do not want to pass down to your children and their children.  I want to encourage you. You are not alone in this battle to live the life the Father has intended for you. You have power. Knowlege and determination.  You are not a mindless drone.  Continuing with damaging choices just because “that’s the way Mom always did it..”. 

You can do whatever it takes to be healthy. You are brave, because the Father will make you brave.  You are strong, because HE will provide the strength required to change your life. You have power as one, thanks to the power of the ONE.  Your decedents will inherit from you life skills that will bring joy and peace.  Not pain.  Your legacy will be one of beauty.  Not ugliness.

Dirty Talk

I have found that there are lots of us ladies that participate in dirty talk.  We do it everywhere.  The bank, ballgames, kids birthday parties.  Even church.  We say things that should make us blush.  Cringe.

The “dirty talk” I am referring to here is a kind of self inflicted character assassination.  It goes something like this…”Umm. That birthday cake looks so good. I’m not going to have any though.  My butt is already so big.”  “I am sorry I forgot our lunch date at Chick Fil A!  I am so stupid.”  “I am so fat.  Wrinkly. In need of medical intervention.  Shield your eyes as I pass by, please! “

If this is where you are at, consider the following.  Would you talk about others the way you speak of yourself?  Would you call your friends fat cow, loser, hippo girl, pig woman?  I bet you would be horrified if someone said such mean things to you.  So stop saying them to yourself.  Give up the dirty talk. Be kind to yourself.  You are worth it! 

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Ephesians 4:29